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"Quit it, Wick. You're acting as if I'm about to steal your daughter's chastity."

"She's the decent type," Wickham muttered. "It's not right, your plans for seducing her."

"Who said anything about seducing her?"

"You don't have to," Wickham retorted. "I've heard from Charlie himself. You've gotten rid of your current mistress - and you only do so when you've already found a replacement."

Anyone else who dared speak out of line with him would have typically earned Acheron's wrath, but since he and Wickham went a long way back, he merely ignored the last bit, saying, "I just want to get to know her better."

Or so that was the plan, but Acheron ended up spending much of his morning in a state of frustration and impatience. He kept thinking that it was only a matter of time before the girl made up some excuse and found her way to his office. A billionaire was in her debt, after all, and now was her chance to cash in on it.

But the hours ticked by, and come lunchtime, Acheron was forced to concede he had underestimated little Pippilotta.

When Charlie informed him about the whole company being unaware of both his illness and the girl's involvement in his recovery, he had thought it was only because she had enough common sense to understand that his personal health had a reciprocal impact on the company's stock value.

When she had made no attempt to contact him in the two weeks he had been away from the office, he had thought she was being discreet.

But now?

Pippilotta Jones was obviously a hell of a lot smarter than he gave her credit for, having succeeded in making him cool his heels like some infatuated idiot, the way no other woman before had done so.

Picking up the intercom, he buzzed his PA in and asked Charlie to find out where the girl was having her lunch. Hopefully, it would be a restaurant with a private room. She intrigued him, and morsels like her were meant to be savored and indulged in private.

When Charlie came back, Acheron was more than ready to leave, only to hear the younger man report ruefully that Ms. Jones was having lunch at her desk.

"She what?"That had to be an act, surely? Millennial thinking had long gotten rid of that kind of dedication to work. She had to be faking this for some reason.

"I've gone to the CCTV room to have this verified, sir. I went as far back as a week, and I checked footage from random dates in the past few months. She always has her meals at her desk, Mr. Simonides."

Her desk,which was the one place in the world Acheron hadn't a hope in hell at having a private conversation with her. Had she known that perhaps, and this was simply her way of forcing him to exert more effort in wooing her?

Acheron was normally contemptuous of such games, but instead he found himself even more intrigued. She was becoming more and more of a challenge, and it had been a long time since he had last felt this way.

Years if he recalled correctly, and it was when he had Serenity Raleigh temporarily working for him as a secretary.

You win then, Ms. Jones,Acheron thought.I'll play your game...for now.