The Two Week Arrangement (Penthouse Affair #1)
Kendall Ryan
About the Book
Dear Sexy AF Intern,
I know you don’t particularly care that I’m the CEO of this company, and you’re just an intern. I also know you’re not impressed by my power or my wealth, and that’s fine.
You think you’ve got me all figured out from working alongside me for two weeks, but you don’t know me. Not really.
You don’t know that I’m a single dad to twin toddlers, or that those two little girls matter more to me than this entire hotel chain.
I’m not interested in starting something deep and meaningful, but what I am interested in is the way your body reacts to mine when we’re in the same room. You probably assume the concentration on my face is work-related, when in reality, I’m figuring out which I want more—to nail you against the wall or bend you over my desk.
While you’re too disciplined to act on it, I’m not. And the night you stepped into my limo, all bets were off.
Prologue
Presley
I have fourteen days to win the job of my dreams. Two weeks of working alongside billionaire hotelier Dominic Aspen to land an executive spot at the most prestigious hotel chain in the world.
There’s just one thing standing in my way: one six-foot-two, infuriatingly sexy thing, my new boss—Dominic Aspen.
If the rumors swirling about him are true, I have no idea how I’ll make it through this in one piece. He’s intense, demanding, and mysterious.
But I need this job more than you can imagine.
I won’t play games, won’t fall for his charms.
Too bad Dominic doesn’t play fair. In fact, I’m not certain we’re playing the same game.
One touch, and I’m putty in his hands. One whispered promise, and I’m done for.
But I was never supposed to fall in love . . .
Chapter One
Dominic
“Been out with anyone lately?”
The tension headache that’s been threatening all day finally sets in, throbbing low in the base of my skull. I shake my head at Oliver’s ridiculous question, my gaze not straying from the screen of my laptop.
“You know I don’t have time to date,” I say, more than a little exasperated that we’ve had this conversation approximately six thousand times.
Just because Oliver is in a happy relationship doesn’t mean he needs to force monogamy down everyone else’s throats. I’m perfectly happy being single.
“Come on, man. You without pussy is like macaroni without cheese.”
My vice president, ladies and gentlemen.
“Fuck’s sake, Ollie. Do you have to be so crass?”
This recurring conversation is wearing thin. I’m about three seconds away from kicking him out of my office. Or kicking him in the nuts. Whichever comes first. Maybe I’ll kick him in the nuts and then kick him out. It’s not like he doesn’t deserve both.
Oliver only scoffs as he wanders to the far end of the office and reaches for a cut-crystal glass from the bar cart. The glass decanters hold fine aged Scotch and the best gin money can buy, but I rarely touch the stuff. It’s there for two purposes—on the rare occasions when I’m entertaining clients, and for Oliver. The man drinks like a fish, though he rarely lets himself get intoxicated by some miracle of his metabolism. But I take no issue with it. It’s well after six, and technically speaking, our workday is over.
Without bothering to ask me if I’d like a glass, he simply pours himself two fingers of Scotch and then joins me again, sinking into the plush black leather wingback across from my desk. He only takes one sip before continuing the criticism.
“Don’t be such a priss, Dom.” He pauses to look at me, his eyebrows raised in amusement as if he’s about to let me in on an inside joke. “You must have forgotten.”
I lean forward and place my elbows on the desk. “Forgotten what?”
He smirks, swirling the liquor in his glass. “That I know all of your quirks.”
I roll my eyes. That’s a polite way of putting it. At least he didn’t call it a sexual deviance again. The memory of that conversation last month makes me shudder.
It’s true that Oliver knows me well. I’d be the first to admit my best friend and vice president has gotten me out of some unseemly situations over the years, but that doesn’t mean I want to discuss my sex life with him.
Even though we’ve been friends since we graduated from Princeton, there are certain boundaries I like to maintain now that I’m his boss. In some ways, those years seem like only yesterday, and in others, they feel like a lifetime ago. Even if Oliver hasn’t changed much, I feel like a completely different person.
“You know the only two ladies I have time for are Emilia and Lacey.”
Defeated, he sighs. “Yeah, yeah. I know.”
I would appreciate it if Oliver didn’t always forget the two little girls waiting at home for me to read them bedtime stories and check for monsters under the bed. Children certainly aren’t on Oliver and Jessica’s radar at this point in their relationship.
They weren’t on mine, either.
“Besides, there will be time for fun and games later. The internship program begins Monday.” I skim over the schedule my assistant has compiled for me.