Jennie
My sneakers squeaked on the Italian marble of the entryway. My home. My sanctuary. Everything in the enclave had been thoughtfully designed with privacy and personality in mind.
This house was no different. It was three separate white stone structures joined by thatched-roof walkways. The main living space was in the center. Kitchen, bedrooms, great room, all under one roof. My home office and gym were in separate, distinct "wings." It was a necessity for someone like me who didn't know how to separate work from home.
"I'm gonna do a quick sweep before I head out," Alison said, closing the front door behind us.
I was too tired to argue. It had been a long-ass day that not even an hour of private kickboxing training was able to erase.
I needed a bath and a glass of wine. No, a scotch. A gigantic one. Perhaps I'd drink straight from the bottle.
"I'm gonna go take a bath," I told her over my shoulder.
Groveling was exhausting. And the plan Flawless's publicity firm had laid out involved a lot of it. While I was busy apologizing and laying low, they planned to raise Irene's profile, painting her as the responsible leadership within Flawless. I understood the tactic. I just didn't love it.
My position with the board was shaky, to say the least. One wrong move, and they could remove me from my own company thanks to that stupid ethics contract. When I'd signed it years ago, the idea that I'd do something "unethical" had been laughable. Now, there wasn't a damn thing I could find funny about the situation.
I headed down the hallway, past the two-story living room and its spectacular ocean views, beyond the kitchen and its pristine-ness.
My bedroom was the only one on the main floor. I'd gone for clean neutrals in here because the color came from the water and sky through the long wall of accordion glass doors. Usually, it was like stepping into a high-end spa. Relaxation was instantaneous.
However, the high-alert adrenaline I'd been running on had rendered me one giant ball of pressure. If someone were to hug me too hard, I was fairly certain my head would pop off.
I made a beeline for the bar cart I kept inside the doorway to the master bath. There was nothing like a hot bath and a few fingers of scotch. I stripped my sweaty tank off and let it hit the floor.
Reaching for the decanter, the smell of smoke hit me. Too late, I realized that the terrace doors in my bedroom were open. I wasn't alone. I opened the vanity drawer and came up with a curling iron. Not ideal, but if an intruder picked today to tangle with me, they would live to regret that very unlucky choice.
The slosh of water had me whirling around.
Framed in a large bay window was the copper pedestal tub I'd had custom made. It was one of my very favorite spots in this entire house.
And it was currently occupied by a very naked man.
"Hello, Jennie."
A very naked woman with the slightest British accent. My brain was scrambling to keep up to assess and hypothesize. Was I about to be murdered by a nude serial killer?
A cigarette dangled indolently from her lips. Her hair was thick and dark. The eyes that studied me were a dark brown. Her jaw was aristocratically carved, highlighted by delicate hollows just below breath-taking cheekbones. Her lower half was covered under a frothy layer of my own damn Prosecco bubble bath.
"What in the hell do you think you're doing?" I demanded, holding the curling iron like a short baseball bat. I needed to call Alison and have her cuff this person and march her naked out my front door.
My neighbors would love that.
There was a scar under her left eye that gave her a roguish look. Lazily, she pulled the cigarette from her mouth with long fingers. She exhaled a blue cloud and eyed my skimpy sports bra as if she had the right to.
"I'm here to help you," she announced.
This is how it ended. Being murdered by a crazy naked woman. Yesterday, I'd been more likely to die in a private plane crash. How far I'd fallen.
"You have five seconds to get out of my tub and another ten to get out of my home, or I'm calling the police and having my security team stun gun you to death in the tub," I said.
She smiled, a knowing kind of grin, and the urge to slap it off her face was so overwhelming I nearly bit through my lip.
"Now what's the fun in that?" she asked. Her voice was smooth, amused.
"How the hell did you get in here?" I'd had to disarm the alarm when I came in with Alison.
Alison. More angry than scared, I stormed to the Hepplewhite side table next to the tub and picked up the phone. If this smug idiot and I didn't kill each other in combat, I was going to have a long talk with Nayeon about security in Bluewater.
Tilting her head, the naked stranger blew another cloud of smoke toward the Baccarat chandelier and ignored me.
"Alison? I need your stun gun in my bathroom."
"Another spider?" she asked.
"No, it's not another spider," I hissed, eyeing the about-to-be dead woman in my tub. "It's worse."
"Are you in danger?" she asked, her tone clipped.
"Probably only of committing murder." I hung up.
The movement took me closer to my stalker. Reckless with anger, I snatched the cigarette from her mouth and dropped it in the bubbles that barely covered her lap.
"I don't allow smoking in my home. Or naked strangers."
"Pity," she said, and a dimple flashed to life in her cheek. "But it does make my job easier, I suppose." Bracing her hands on the sides of the tub, she rose, sending bubbles and water cascading down her body.
She stepped out and into my space.
I stood my ground but made no effort to tear my gaze away from the soapy cock between her muscled thighs.
If I had to be murdered in my own home by a naked crazy woman, at least she was the embodiment of the perfect form. It would have been more depressing had my murderer possessed a beer belly and hairy knuckles. Made-for-TV movies about my death would run for years with such a beautiful, homicidal villain.
Her lips curved on one side as she let water puddle all over my marble.
I was going to really enjoy watching Alison electrocute her. Then I'd have a scotch while I watched security drag her away, I decided. Perhaps I could instruct them to drag her through one of the thornier bushes?
She reached toward me with a muscled arm.
I flinched, wondering if I'd completely misjudged the danger factor.
It amused her. "Do I make you nervous, Jennie?" she asked, pulling a monogrammed towel off the shelf behind me. She began a slow, sensual show of toweling off. My eyes were glued to every place the towel dried.
I took a step closer to her and trod on her bare foot. She towered over my five feet and seven inches, but anger made me stupidly brave.
"I'm going to enjoy watching my security team crush you. And rest assured, I will press charges. Trespassing. Stalking. I'm in fear for my life right now."
I wanted to fight, I realized. The choreographed kickboxing hadn't quelled the bloodlust I'd kept locked down all day.
"Jennie, Jennie, Jennie," she tutted. "How will tasing an employee and parading them naked out of your house help your predicament?" she reached out and toyed with the strap of my bra. The brush of her finger against my still sweaty skin ignited something that felt hot like rage but meltier. Slicker.
"Employee?" I sounded like I was being choked.
"I'm Lisa Manoban from Alpha Group. The one hired to help you keep your company."
Fuck.
Alison ninja rolled into the bathroom from the terrace, landing in a crouch and pointing her stun gun at the naked woman.
"Wow." It was as effusive as Alison got.
"Focus more on the criminal aspect than the dick, Alison," I reminded her when her brown eyes roamed south from her well-formed chest to what looked like several decadent inches of pure sin.
"I'm multi-tasking," she insisted.
Lisa grinned at her and stepped around me, irresponsibly disinterested in the weapon pointed at her and the curling iron I still wielded. At the bar cart, she poured two fingers of scotch into three glasses.
"Who the hell are you?" I demanded.
She pushed a glass into my hand.
"I believe I mentioned that I'm Lisa Manoban," she said again. "I'm the fixer your board hired to clean up your mess. Imani can verify."
Double fuck.
"So you show up here, break into my house, and take a bath?"
"What's for dinner?" Frank, the parrot that never shut up, squawked grumpily from the palm outside.
"Shut up, Frank," Alison and I said together.
"You dodged my calls all day. And one thing you don't have in this…" Those brown eyes skimmed my body from head to toe and back again. "Situation," she decided, "is time. Now that I have your attention, we can get started."
I opened my mouth and closed it again.
Using two fingers, she nudged the glass in my hand to my mouth. I swallowed reflexively.
"Good girl. You have another billion dollars on the line and the reputation of a company you built with your own two lovely hands. My job is to make sure you get everything you've worked for. Your job is to listen to me and do everything I say."
"Good luck with that," Alison scoffed from her crouch.
Still naked, Lisa picked up one of the remaining glasses from the cart and handed it to Alison. She accepted it with her stun gun-free hand.
"This isn't happening," I whispered.
"I'm pretty sure this is happening," Alison insisted, looking at her cock again. She took a drink. "Yep. Definitely happening."
Obligingly, Lisa picked up the third glass and did a slow turn. God. Her ass was the most perfect guy-butt I'd ever seen in my entire life. And I loathed her for it. What a waste of an ass like that on an asshole.
Shw held out her hand. "Phone."
It was the cock. Or the ass. Or those brown, brown eyes. Whatever it was, I was hypnotized. I dropped the curling iron and handed over my cell phone.
Her thumbs flew over the screen, and then she handed it back. "There. Now I'm in your phone. When I call, you answer."
"When you call, I answer?" I repeated with disdain. I wanted to smash my phone into her perfect face.
None of this was happening. My carefully curated life was not suddenly spiraling out of control, dancing dangerously close to the drain. I'd just worked too hard, and now I was hallucinating.
She leaned in so close that I could feel the heat pumping off her damp skin. Oh, God. I didn't have the imagination to hallucinate this well.
"If you don't, you'll lose everything," she said.
--
"So she's legit?" Alison asked as I hung up the phone.
My father wasn't responding to my calls. He was probably still in the air. But I did get another director on the phone, and she assured me icily that Lisa Manoban was indeed my new guardian angel and babysitter.
"It would appear so."
I sank down at the kitchen bar and watched listlessly as Alison poured two shots of something.
"What is that?" I asked.
"Fireball," she said. "Borrowed it from Nayeon. Kind of comforting to know that billions of dollars still can't buy a sophisticated palate. That girl has the best worst taste in booze."
She handed me a shot glass, and for the second time that night, I drank on command.
"So here's the plan," Alison said. "You and I are gonna do a couple of shots, and then I'm spending the night here in case the naked burglar comes back to try out your steam shower."
"Good plan," I wheezed and slid my empty glass back at her. "You'll stun gun her next time, right?"
"Promise."