EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2020 Doris O’Connor
ISBN: 978-0-3695-0232-2
Cover Artist: Jay Aheer
Editor: Karyn White
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
THE TAKEOVER
Romance on the Go ®
Doris O’Connor
Copyright © 2020
Chapter One
"Wait up a sec. I'm—" The door slammed in her face, shutting off her shout for help, and the trays of Starbucks’ finest wobbled precariously in Emma's hands. She swallowed the curse hovering on her tongue, and winced as scalding hot coffee slopped over her fingers.
Liz Goven, her immediate boss and assistant to the CEO, threw a cold look over her shoulder at Em and stalked off. Even through the glass door the loud click clack of her six-inch Gucci slingbacks grated on Emma's nerves. Of course, the high and mighty Ms. Goven would not stoop so low as holding the door open for a mere assistant, now, would she?
Emma resisted the childish urge to stick her tongue out at Liz's retreating back, and sighed instead. With her case containing the papers the CEO needed for the takeover slung precariously over one shoulder, her handbag hanging off one elbow, and two far from stable cardboard trays holding the scalding supply of coffees, her options for opening that door proved rather limited.
Especially as she'd chosen to wear a suit in honor of the new CEO's arrival today. Em hadn't worn the damn thing in years, and clearly she'd gained some pounds since the last time she'd squeezed into it. The jacket didn't do up over her boobs, and the pencil skirt clung to what her mum would have called childbearing hips. Em just called it fat, and normally she hid under flowing dresses and long, comfortable skirts, but the memo sent around had been very precise. The new CEO would expect proper office attire, so Em had even dusted off her kitten heels.
So not conducive to walking, let alone opening the damn door with her knee, which was the only option left open right now.
"Here, let me. How do you get yourself into these pickles, titch?"
Shane Nevin's deep tenor stopped her fumbling, and a shiver of anticipation went down her spine, dampening her knickers like it always did. Em suppressed another sigh, and smiled up at Shane as she did her best not to swoon.
Shane, too, had dressed up for the occasion, and the three-piece suit just emphasized every inch of his six-foot-three, ruggedly masculine frame. If she didn't know better Em would have thought that suit was tailor-made. However, Shane was just a lowly office worker like herself, so unless he'd suddenly won the lottery, then he must have just struck lucky when he got that suit off the rack.
"Nice suit," Emma said, and inwardly rolled her eyes at herself. Nice suit? That's right up there with I carried a watermelon, for frick's sake. Could I think of anything more stupid to say to him?
Shane simply smiled at her comment, reached around her to open the door for her, and grasped one of the trays out of her hand.
"Here, let me help you. Queen bitch made you get the coffees again, I see, as well as made you finish that report, I bet."
Emma almost missed a step at the steely annoyance behind those clipped words, tempered as they were with a smile directed at her. And not just any smile. This was a pure drop-your-knickers-in-an-instant smile of male appreciation that made Emma feel rather lightheaded. She'd seen him use that dimpled grin with devastating effect in meetings with suppliers that meant they dropped everything to accommodate him, but she'd never been at the receiving end of it. Neither had he ever run his gaze over her body with such heated intensity that the fine hair on her arms rose to attention, and her nipples beaded into shameless beacons of lust. Em knew she would have to lose her now-sodden panties as her body responded to this man's charisma with a gush of wetness between her thighs. Jesus, that smile was lethal, and set off an almost painful wave of arousal and feminine need in her core that left Emma breathlessly staring up at him.
"I could say the same to you, by the way." Shane winked at her, and Emma blinked as the spell was broken.
"What?" she asked.
Shane laughed and swept one large hand through the air in front of her.
"Your attire, Em. Nice suit. Who knew you were hiding such a great pair of pins, not to mention…" His gaze dropped briefly to her boobs, where her nipples were still practically waving red flags to draw attention to themselves, and he grinned again, and ran a hand through his hair. The action made a strand of his light brown hair fall across his forehead and her fingers itched to brush it back for him. It had a natural wave to it that could have made him look boyish. Coupled with the angular jaw, covered in designer stubble, the strong slash of a nose, and his intense crystal blue gaze, it just enhanced his raw masculinity and sex appeal, however.
Emma laughed nervously and somehow managed to keep on walking. Shane hit the button for the elevator to carry them up to the executive offices, and she risked another glance up at him from under her lashes. He wasn't looking at her. Just stood waiting for the elevator to finally
