Page 12 of Eternal Love (Timeless Duet #1)

TRAPPED WITH THE

BILLIONAIRE

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Sample Chapter

His hazel eyes bore into hers. Warmth spread over her body, and a happy flush engulfed her cheeks. He pinned her arms above her head, his hands exploring the contours of her body, teasing her. Her back arched in response, her lips parting.

“Oh, what I’m going to do to you,” he whispered into her ear, pausing to gently nibble on her lobe.

She giggled in anticipation.

He turned her around hard, her arms still pressed against the wall. One hand kept her still while the other reached down, pulling at her underwear. He dropped them onto the floor, releasing her hands and getting onto his knees. A flick of his tongue rubbed over her, and she cried out, giving way to low moans as his tongue searched the deep recesses of her body.

“There! Stay there,” she panted. “I’m going to—”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

Tasmin gasped, sitting up poker-straight in bed. She massaged her eyes, allowing for the state of her tiny bedroom to come into focus. Well, that’s a new one, she thought. You could’ve had a sex dream about anyone, literally anyone, and instead, you choose your pompous boss. Nice one, Tasmin, she scolded herself.

She sighed and allowed her body to fall back against the bed. She covered her face with her hands in shame. She hated to admit it to herself, but God, she wanted to finish that dream. It had been two whole years since she’d last had sex before her ex-fiancé Jeremy the Jerk had decided to bang his personal trainer.

One-night stands just didn’t do it for her, and her trusty old vibrator was even less exciting now. She allowed her body to slip back into sleep, but her mind wasn’t playing ball and wouldn’t allow her to finish the heavenly dream.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

The alarm seemed to intensify in anger, urging her awake.

“Oh shit, shit, shit,” Tasmin muttered. She scrambled around, realizing only too late that she hadn’t done her laundry. She stood, hands on hips, surveying her pile of clothes the way a police officer studied a dead body. But this was no suspicious occurrence, simply laziness. Although in the eyes of her mother, it most certainly would be a crime, with Tasmin being a class one felon. Tasmin had tried and failed to fight her baser instincts, but there were just far better things to be doing than cleaning—like writing. And she was making some real progress despite her bedroom floor looking like a bomb had hit it. She was an old-fashioned pen-and-paper kind of girl, and it showed. Her floor was more paper than carpet at this point.

She tugged out a mini tartan skirt and white silk shirt from her laundry mountain, being sure to give the shirt a discretionary sniff.

“Well, this will have to do,” she muttered, pulling on the clothes. She grabbed a few scraps of paper that, to the untrained eye, may appear to be garbage, but to her, it was the first few chapters of her manuscript. She could review them on her lunch break. The beauty of working as a junior editor at Smith and Smith, a highly decorated publishing company based in New York, was that she read piles of manuscripts. She knew what constituted good and bad writing. That’s what she was paid for by the company, well, by him. Lloyd Smith took over the company years before he was expecting to, that’s if he had any real interest in taking over the company at all. He was thirty when he rose to the role of director after his father had suffered a fatal heart attack. The son of a billionaire, now a billionaire himself after inheriting his father’s wealth, he’d garnered a real reputation as a playboy, partying his way around Europe with multiple models on his arm.

Five years later, as much as Tasmin hated to admit it, the business was more successful than ever, signing a wealth of hot, new debut authors to rave reviews from critics and readers alike. She had been employed at Smith and Smith for two years and had enjoyed the bare minimum of contact from him. It was limited to emails and a cursory “good morning” or “good afternoon” if they passed each other in the hallway.

Sure, he had been present at her interview, sat regally between the two other managing partners, Mr. Matthews and Mrs. Ray, and Tasmin couldn’t help her mouth hanging open when she had first seen him. She’d never actually seen someone that good-looking in the flesh before. He had the face of a runway model, all chiseled cheekbones, perfect complexion, and underneath that $3,000 suit, she could spy a gym-honed body to match. She had swallowed hard and adjusted her last-minute outfit choice, wishing she had chosen a longer dress and maybe at least gone to the gym once in a while. The dress hugged her thighs in a tight embrace. He clearly hadn’t had a similar reaction to her. She’d spotted a slight frown of disapproval on his face as his gaze scanned her up and down, past her long chocolate hair and matching eyes. He’d gestured for her to take a seat with a flick of his wrist, not even offering to shake her hand. Does this prick think he’s better than me or something? The high and mighty billionaire can’t even bear to touch the hand of a mere peasant.

Once the interview was over, Tasmin had decided it was, all in all, not a total shit show. She eyeballed him and held out her hand. “Thank you so much. It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Smith,” she said, making sure to drip an air of sarcasm into her voice. His eyes widened as he looked up from his notebook and took her hand in his own. He was warm, so warm.

He cleared his throat and pulled back his hand. His face returned to stoic indifference.

“Please call me Lloyd. That’s what all the other employees call me. Congratulations, Miss Paris, you are the ideal candidate for the role of junior editor. You start Monday.”

The last part had sounded too much like a command. He was used to getting what he wanted.

Tasmin stuck her chin in the air. “Well, thank you very much indeed, Lloyd. I’m pleased to accept the offer.”

He gave a curt nod and gathered his notes. “Good.”

“But it’s completely impossible for me to start tomorrow. I need to give my current job one month’s notice, so I’ll be starting one month from today.”

The managing partners exchanged a sideways glance at one another and then looked back to Lloyd.

“Fine,” Lloyd said. “But no longer than a month.”

“Oh, of course,” she had beamed. “And please, do call me Tasmin.”

His jaw flexed. “Tasmin,” he said and left the room.

She liked the sound of her name in his mouth.

The door slammed shut behind him.

Mr. Matthews cleared his throat. “We’re very pleased to welcome you to the company.” He smiled and followed his boss.

Mrs. Ray smiled and shook her head. “Tasmin, that was an excellent interview. I can tell that you’ve made a lasting impression on the boss. I’ve been here longer than he’s been alive, as I was here when his father first started the company. But he’s a great boss, really, and a big softie deep down.” She gave her a friendly wink and a crinkled smile.

Tasmin doubted that, but she didn’t want to contradict her.

She showed Tasmin to the elevator that would take her back down to the lobby.

The beep of the elevator closed on Mrs. Ray’s smiling face. “See you in a month, Tasmin.”

And the rest was history.

End of sample chapter