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BEN

I’m keeping my distance from her whilst we travel to the French restaurant my colleague chose for our business lunch. I have to. I’m still rock hard from our little back and forth. and I need to be Mr. Elias, ruthless businessman, not Ben, the randy teenager who gets hard from the smell of her hair. I mean, green apples and vanilla shouldn’t be something that makes my dick stand to attention, but it bloody does.

And it’s left me hugging the door opposite her in the car, attempting to avoid any of my senses being consumed by her, but it isn’t helping. I can’t drag my eyes away from her. Studying her profile as she looks over the notes I’ve written in preparation for today, I smile at her furrowed brows as she reads. Her nose twitches too, like a cute little bunny.

I scoff internally at myself. A cute little bunny? What the fuck has gotten into me?

Without her eyes leaving the page resting on her lap, she purses her lips and clears her throat. “Should I be taking notes during this lunch? Do you want my input or should I stay neutral and quiet?”

A smirk is the only response I give for a few seconds, but realise she can’t see it as she’s still focused on the papers before her. I reach over and brush her hair from her shoulder. I shouldn’t be touching her, but I can’t help it. “No, Penelope. Just enjoy the food, if you can.”

Her eyes meet mine, her brows furrowed and her lips parted slightly. “Then why did you bring me, Ben? You seem like you have everything prepped and no notes are needed. I’m struggling to understand why I’m here with you. You didn’t bring my dad to meetings like this, did you?”

A long sigh and a pinch to the bridge of my nose makes her shift in her seat so she can face me. “No, I didn’t. Honestly, Penelope? I like being near you. I had to attend this meeting and I didn't want to leave you alone in the hotel. Plus, I wanted you to be able to see as much of New York as possible for the short amount of time we’re here.”

A small smile creeps onto her face and she reaches over and places her hand on mine. “Okay then. We’ll attend this lunch and then we can enjoy our time here, together, yes?”

I flip my hand over so we’re palm to palm and link our fingers together before slowly lifting her hand and placing a small kiss to her knuckles. “Yes.”

As we exit the car, I let my hand drop to her lower back, guiding her past the potted bushes covered in twinkling fairy lights lining either side of the entrance, and into the restaurant. Christmas is everywhere outside with lights, signs, and holly wreaths hanging in abundance, but inside there isn’t as much.

I hang back a second or two and let her take it all in. The interior is exquisite. It may be as pretentious as you can get, but it still looks beautiful. The middle of the dining room has a huge holiday floral display, and bizarrely, a picture of waves crashing together covering the whole back wall. It’s a stunning piece of art, but it’s out of place. I would’ve expected a mural of the Eiffel Tower or something more French. But to each his own.

The lighting is dimmed and I roll my eyes at the ‘ambience’ they’re trying to create. It’s the middle of the day, we’re here for lunch. But I wish it was the evening so I could be on a proper date with her. Let her experience the atmosphere whilst I wined and dined her. Instead, I have to keep my business head on.

It’s fine, though. One day I’ll take her to Paris. Blow her away with private tours of the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, and the Palace of Versailles. I think she’d prefer sightseeing there than being on a date in a restaurant anyway.

“Why is it so dark in here?” Penelope’s whispered voice brings me back to the now, and with a small chuckle, I turn my attention to her.

“I was thinking the exact same thing myself. I didn’t pick the restaurant, I’m afraid. My colleague did. I’m not a fan of the French cuisine they serve here.” I know my tone of voice is clipped, but it’s all part of my effort to tighten my mask and ready myself for this particular meeting.

I drag a hand through my hair and blow out a deep breath as the maitré d smiles expectantly at us. “We have a reservation under the name Kingston.”

She runs a manicured nail over her screen and then smiles. “Let me show you to your table. Mr. Kingston has already arrived.”

“Of course he has,” I mumble under my breath, but of course Penelope hears it.

She slows her pace and leans into my side, her mouth at my ear, and the scent of green apples and vanilla hits me again. “Do we not like this guy? I’m getting all kinds of grumpy vibes from you.”

I close my eyes and breathe deeply, savouring her scent as her words take hold in my head. She said ‘we,’ not ‘you’. She sees us as a team. And it makes my cold heart a little warmer knowing it.

“He isn’t my favourite person, but he is a formidable presence in his industry, and this meeting could be very lucrative for me. I need to be Mr. Elias the businessman for this. Please don’t hate me too much.”

The worry in my voice is tempered with the small laugh I force out. She frowns her confusion and opens her mouth to speak, but thinks better of it and just nods a little. At least I know I won’t be the biggest prick at the table. That accolade will go to Kingston. Penelope might even be able to overlook my douchery when it’s compared with his.

My name is bellowed across the restaurant and I turn to find James Kingston standing to greet us. His eyes immediately roam over Penelope. The way they fixate on her cleavage poking through the little window of her dress makes me want to maim him. But I force a smile on my face, take hold of Penelope’s elbow—a move James doesn’t miss—and walk toward him.

“James, long time no see.” I offer my hand first and he shakes it enthusiastically. “This is my assistant, Penelope Richards. Penelope, this is James Kingston.”

She smiles and offers her hand too, and I fight the urge to snatch it back so he can’t touch her. But that would be a ridiculous move, and I’m trying to be a sensible businessman, so I don’t. I do grit my teeth together and let my jaw tick as he takes her hand and kisses her knuckles lightly whilst muttering, “Enchanté.” Pretentious prick.

A quick look at Penelope shows her smiling wider, and the sight irritates me. Those smiles are mine, not some slimy prick’s who uses words like enchanté when he comes from bloody Hampstead.

As if she can read my mind, she offers a little glance my way and a quick roll of her eyes to let me know she sees him and agrees with me. The irritation I was feeling rolls off my shoulders a little as I clear my throat.

“Shall we be seated.” My tone is sharp and authoritative, and Penelope shoots me an impressed look. I preen like a damn peacock under her gaze. She likes me taking charge it seems.

As James turns his back to head toward the table, right against that painted wall, she winks and mouths, “He’s a douche” to me. I nod back as I pull her chair out, and once she’s seated, I sit in the chair next to her. She offers her thanks with a small smile and tip of her head, relaxing me a little more.

I want to put my hand on her thigh, but I know I shouldn’t, so I open my legs wider and let my thigh rest next to hers. She doesn’t move it away, so I go one extra and wrap my foot around her ankle as her cheeks turn a subtle shade of pink.

“So Ben, I see why you’ve stayed in the states for as long as you have. With beauties like this working for you, I wouldn’t want to come home either.” Kingston’s words irritate me, but I’m used to his games, so rather than giving him what he wants, I spin the conversation.

“Yes, Penelope is beautiful, isn’t she? She’s also the best assistant I’ve ever had. She’s hard working and efficient, I’d be lost without her.” She’s turned to look at me with wonder in her eyes, and I try to show her I mean every word through my own.

She clears her throat and laughs softly. “Don’t let my dad hear you say that. He’ll be so disappointed.”

James looks at both of us with a mild form of confusion on his face. “What did I miss?”

“Penelope’s father was my assistant before her.” That’s the only explanation I offer as I sip the water in front of me.

But it doesn’t matter, because Penelope decides to share with him. “He’s been Ben’s assistant for years but had to have surgery on his knee recently, so I stepped in. Once he’s healed, he’ll come back to be Mr. Elias’s assistant again. I’m just filling in for the time being.”

The leg not wrapped around Penelope's starts to bounce under the table. I don’t normally give so much about myself or the inner workings of my business away. It’s something I should’ve told her about in the car, but I smelled her bloody hair. And by the way Kingston is eating her words up, he knows he’s got an advantage over me.

But what’s really irritating me is the idea of her leaving me. As much as I miss Hank, I like working with her, seeing her every day. I don’t want that to end. And judging by the smug smirk on Kingston’s face, he knows this too. Fuck.

“So, you’ll be looking for a job then? I’m in need of a new assistant myself. I’ll pay you double what Ben’s paying you.” He smirks at me and I want to reach across the table and smack the smug expression off his face. With the back of a chair.

She will not be going to work with him. He’ll be no better than her old boss and the sleaze dad. But I hold my tongue and my temper. If I know Penelope, she’ll see right through him.

“You don’t even know what he’s paying me. You can’t just offer that. And besides I’m not sure I could go from working with someone like Ben to someone who's not…” Her words trail off, leaving the meaning from her statement up to our discretion to interpret.

And I’ve never wanted to kiss her more than I do right now. She took his pretentious prickish behaviour and handled it. That sass that started everything with us is still burning inside of her, and a surge of pride washes over me. She carries on like this and I won’t be able to hide my ‘excitement’ from the whole damn restaurant when we stand to leave.

“Penelope, I’m a very wealthy man and I always get what I want, regardless of how much it costs. And I can assure you, anything Ben can do, I can do better.”

The scoff from her lips is loud enough for both of us to hear, and instead of the retort I had ready on my lips for him, I leave it to her.

“Hmmmm, I’m sure you are. But, money can’t buy you everything. And as such a successful businessman, I’m sure you’re aware of that.” Her tone dripping with sarcasm, she raises her brow confidently back at him.

And just like that, I’m rock fucking hard.

She brings her glass to her lips as James chuckles, and I couldn’t care less about the man sitting opposite me. All my focus is on the formidable woman sitting next to me. I’m transfixed with watching her as she slowly lowers the glass back to the table and meets my gaze. She widens her eyes slightly and very subtly motions her head toward James, quickly bringing me back to my senses.

“So, Kingston, I have some questions about your proposal.”

The waitress interrupts us and James places his usual order—oysters for starters. Ridiculous. He’s such a dick.

“I’m so sorry. I haven’t even looked at the menu.” Penelope's soft laugh to cover her embarrassment flutters around me and a sudden thought grabs me—the menu is in French. Does she know how to read French?

Shit, I should’ve prepped her on this before too. Fuck. If only my head hadn’t been in the gutter thinking about her hair so much I could’ve prepared her. And now she’s going to look like an idiot because of me. Well, not on my watch.

“Don’t worry, Penelope, I’ll order for you.” I turn to the waitress, about to place our orders, when I’m stopped by a hand on my forearm.

“Thank you, but I’m able to order for myself.” Her tone is clipped and I raise my brow at her, but she ignores it and directs her next question to the waitress. “What would you suggest?”

James chuckles into his water and I sit back in my chair a little put out, a little turned on, and a lot irritated. The little brat.

“Um, what is this?”

After the waitress left with our orders, James and I settled in to discuss his new business venture. And even though I could make it work, I already know I’m not going to. He’s pissed me off, flirting with Penelope, making it clear he knows what he’s doing as well. I refuse to work with someone like that.

Penelope held her own though, and I’m impressed with the way she batted him off. She’s a formidable woman, I just wish she’d accept my help when I bloody offer it and realise we could be a great team if only she would allow it. This time her independence means she’s stuck with a meal she’ll hate because she was too proud to let me order for her.

Irritation prickles over my skin, and even though I know she has this damsel in distress complex, it doesn’t mean I have to like it.

“It’s what you ordered.” My voice is smug as I thank the server and smile.

“But what is it?” Her nose is scrunched up in disgust and I bring the glass to my lips to hide my amusement.

“It’s caviar, sweetheart.” James winks and I watch Penelope’s reaction intently. The last time I called her sweetheart she ripped me a new one.

Her eye twitches a little and she smiles tightly whilst fixing him with a glare. Seeing her react like this and knowing I’m not on the receiving end sends a gleeful feeling through me. James squirms under her look, and I can’t force the smile from my lips. Squirm you, arrogant bastard, squirm.

“Hmmm, um, if you’ll excuse me. I’m going to run to the ladies’ room.”

I stand as she does and dip my head to her, watching her put a little extra sway in her step as she walks away.

As soon as she’s out of sight, James rounds on me. “She’s a fucking nightmare, but one I’d like to tame.”

Count to ten, Ben. Count to fucking ten.

ONE.

“That look she gave me.” He shakes his head and laughs.

TWO.

“I wonder if she’d glare like that whilst I occupied her mouth?” He laughs again and I take a deep breath in through my nose.

THREE.

“The things I’d make her do. I mean, what's the point in having an assistant like that if you’re not getting a piece of her arse, am I right?”

My jaw clenches and I’m struggling to remember why I shouldn’t be throttling him.

FOUR.

“Are you fucking that? I mean, I don’t care if you are. Not the first time I’ve had sloppy seconds from one of my colleagues.”

And I’m done.

Reaching over the table, all thoughts lost to the red haze covering my sight, I grab his tie and pull him up to a standing position. The cutlery and dishes on the table clatter as I step forward and wrap my hand around his throat, pinning him to the back wall. He coughs and splutters, his face turning a little purple as the fellow diners look at me in horror.

“Talk about her like that again, and I’ll make sure you’re left broke, broken, and in need of a hospital bed. Do you understand?” I’m seething, my words a forced hiss as I struggle not to tighten my grip. “She’s not for you. Don’t look at her, don’t even think about her, or I’ll fucking destroy you. Is that clear?”

He nods as well as he can, his eyes dipping to my solid grip, and I release his throat as he slumps back into his chair, clutching at his neck and panting for breath.

Grabbing Penelope’s bag and coat from the chair, I head toward the bathroom to collect her. She startles when she sees me outside and then tilts her head in confusion when she spots her belongings in my arms. “We’re leaving.”

She doesn’t question me as I help her into her coat. I snatch her hand, interlock our fingers, and storm through the restaurant with a glower on my face. I don’t care if I’m not welcome back here, I hate the food and the atmosphere anyway, but I won’t sit and listen to anyone disrespect her. I can’t.

I’m so in my own head, I’ve stormed past the car waiting to take us back to our hotel and two blocks down fifty-first street before I realise I’m still clutching her handbag. Growling in frustration, I hail a cab, tell him to take us to the Aman, and snap the seatbelt in place across her chest before securing my own.

“Are you going to give me back my bag?” Her voice is irritated but also confused, and I slide the bag between us, avoiding looking at her. A sigh follows, but I ignore it.

Taking my phone out of my pocket, I fire off an email to my lawyer to cover my arse and make sure Kingston doesn’t try to make this into a thing. I’m certain he won’t. One phone call to his wife informing her about his ‘extracurricular non-work’ meetings he’s had with his many assistants would ensure his ‘fortune’ is decimated after their divorce. A gentle reminder that I’m the alpha in this world is all he needed.

I pay the cab and walk around the car to open the door for Penelope, but she’s already done it and is storming inside the hotel. Thankfully my strides are long enough that I can catch her by the lifts before she gets in them. She scoffs when my hand lands on her lower back to guide her and moves away from my touch. I should pursue her, stand so close to her that all her senses are invaded by me, but I’m too pissed right now. I need a minute to gather my composure. Kingsley left me with a lot of pent up rage, and I know she’s annoyed because I haven’t told her what happened. But I just need a minute.

As the doors open on our floor, I stride out, hold my hand on the lift doors to keep them open, and shoot her a look that asks if she’s coming.

With an eye roll and a sneer, she leaves the small space and waits for me to unlock the suite. Without a word, she storms inside, bends to take her boots off—her arse looking fabulous in the tight dress—and walks into the master bedroom.

A loud sigh leaves my lips as my head drops down so my chin rests on my chest. I acted like a fucking caveman. A fool. In front of everyone in that restaurant. Because of her. She’s changed something inside of me, something I swore I’d never become, and I think it’s time I embraced it instead of trying to hide from it.

I step into the living area, grab the bottle of scotch from the bar, and pour myself a drink. This trip’s been a disaster. Story of my life.