Hired To Betray, Tempted To Love

"Is she here yet?"

Martha looks up at me from her computer. Her face turns pale as she tries to put together my words into context. She has been working for the company for twenty years now, and no matter what promotion I offer her, she is satisfied with being my personal receptionist. The woman is kind and generous beyond anything, but she is also freakishly scared of me all the time.

The few times she heard me scold my employees during meetings didn't help with that.

"Who, Mr. Drake?" she asks, pinching her eyebrows as her eyes take on a look of thoughtfulness.

"Miss Cynthia Lucas. She goes by Cynth."

Even her name has a taste on my tongue. How is that even possible?

"I don't know, Mr. Drake," Martha sighs, standing up from her chair behind the counter. "I didn't see anyone come in today, and even if she did, she won't have an ID to enter this part of the office."

Yeah, she won't. I forgot about that.

Rubbing my jaw, I look at the clock behind Martha, which reads 9 o'clock. Surprisingly, instead of feeling happy at the fact that she has managed to disappoint me by being late on the very first day itself, I find myself hoping that she will come. There is something about that girl that makes me love the way she gets on my nerves. I like playing the cat to her mouse. It would have been fun if the game had lasted longer.

Disturbed by the thoughts, I start to pace in front of my cubicle, one hand on my hip and the other caressing my stubbled chin as I keep looking at the glass doors. There is no sign of her.

"One interview and she's already got to you, brother?"

I turn at the sound of the voice. My brother, or more like my mirror, Reece, is leaning against the wall beside Martha's semi-circular counter. He is dressed in a black button-down and jeans, his one foot resting against the wall as he crosses his arms over his chest in amusement.

Unlike Cynthia's pretty face, his manages to piss me off within seconds, and the fact that he is my identical twin who looks every inch like me pisses me off even more.

"Shut up," I growl at him, taking another look at the double doors. "What are you doing here?"

"Sarah called and said that a new employee was joining. I didn't want to miss your first interaction." Reece smirks, turning to Martha. "What do you think, Martha? Won't it be a show?"

The fifty-year-old lady just shrugs, ignoring his presence as she focuses on her computer screen again.

"Leave, Reece. No one wants you here. It's too early to go pissing people off."

As I rest my hands against the steel railing, peering down to see any sign of my new assistant, my brother walks towards me leisurely, hooking one finger in a pocket of his jeans.

"Try to be warmer, brother," he says as he rests his elbow on the railing and leans against it. "Sarah also said the girl's pretty. Maybe she's the one for me."

I move my eyes to him at his words, seeing in them the absolute fun he is having while toying with me.

"She's an employee, and you'd better keep your hands off her if you wish to remain with your limbs intact," I warn him.

He looks at me gravely for some time and then begins chuckling to himself. "So was Jeannie, brother. You had no problem bending the rules for her."

I clench my fists at the mention of his ex-girlfriend. Jeannie was the one who cut off our last thread of brotherly affection for each other. I know that no matter what Reece pretends to feel, he still feels violated by that night.

Before I can reply to his taunts, the double doors open. I jerk my head towards it, sighing in relief when I spot the familiar face of Miss Lucas stepping inside. She is in plain clothes, looking as professional as any of my other assistants. But unlike them, I find myself completely taken over by her look.

Wearing a deep red pencil skirt and a white blouse, she has her hair down in smooth waves, the length of them reaching her waist. Her lips are a deep red, the same color she wore yesterday during the interview. For someone I am supposed to despise, she is making my job rather difficult.

In her hands, she carries a Starbucks cup, a folder, and a large handbag. She stops when she sees us standing before her, her doe-wide eyes moving between my brother and me. She looks confused about which one is her boss, I guess.

"Miss Lucas," I say gravely with a voice I know she would relate to no one but me. "You're late."

Miss Lucas looks at me from Reece, her eyes twinkling with recognition.

"Good morning, Mr. Drake." She beams at me, walking three steps until she is craning her neck to look at my face. "Here's your coffee and here's your schedule for today."

She hands me the Starbucks cup and opens the folder. Her hands shake as she balances the file on one palm, flipping through it hurriedly. From the corner of my eye, I see my brother's eyes ludicrously moving down her body. He notices me watching and throws in a smirk.

"Miss Lucas..." I clear my throat, making our new employee gaze up at me from the folder.

"Yes, Mr. Drake?"

"You're late," I repeat.

She blinks, her eyes flickering to my brother again before settling on me.

"I'm not, Mr. Drake," she says, shutting the file as she stands with her determination firm on her face. "You must be mistaken."

I take a look at my watch and lift my wrist to show her what I am seeing.

"It's nine o'clock, Miss Lucas. You were supposed to be here fifteen minutes earlier."

She narrows her eyebrows, her full lips twisting to a soft frown.

"I was half an hour early, Mr. Drake. I came even before you did," she informs. "I didn't have the ID, so they stopped me at the gate and then stopped me again from entering here. After confirming with your manager, Mr. Khan, I was told to start my task asap by bringing you your coffee and entering your schedule neatly in this file. Only then was I allowed to enter here."

We all stand in silence. Even Martha's clicking on the keyboard stops as she stares at the girl while lifting her glasses over her nose. I do the same, adjusting my glasses and then trying hard to maintain my scowl at her.

"You should have sent Khan to inform me of your arrival, Miss Lucas, instead of being so irresponsible."

"Irresponsible?" She repeats in disbelief. "Did you really expect me to fight with your manager on my first day itself? What kind of reputation would I have had if I didn't give him the respect he deserves for working with someone like you?"

"Someone like me?"

"Yes," she begins. "Managing an obnoxious, unpleasant, and absolutely self-possessed billionaire must be quite the task for him every day. By the way you behave with people, you need to...oh wait a minute..." She stops and turns to my brother before continuing. "Mr. Drake, I suppose you're one too...Does the company policy state anything against voicing our opinions against our bosses?"

Reece looks at me with a wry smile before he focuses his attention on her.

"Nothing of that sort, Miss Lucas. May I introduce myself, however?" He takes a step towards her and extends his hand for her to shake. "I'm Reece Drake. I'm the twin of this jerk here. I hope you and I will get to see more of each other."

My nerves flare when I see Miss Lucas blush before she takes his hand and gives a shake.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Drake."

"Just Reece will do," he corrects her. "I myself am an employee of my brother. I'm the draftsperson."

"Oh." Miss Lucas looks impressed, not bothering that my brother hasn't let go of her hand still. "In that case, you can call me Cynthia, too. That's my name."

Reece smiles. "Nice to meet you, Cynthia."

As they stare at each other, I am left even more irritated than before.

"Enough." I break the abysmal conversation, pulling my brother back by his arm and letting him let go of Miss Lucas's hand. "Follow me, Cynthia. Let me give you a tour."

She murmurs an apology to Reece as she struts after me. I open the door to my office and hold it open until she steps in. Giving my brother one last glare, I shut the door behind us.

Facing Miss Lucas, I find her holding her folder against her chest as she looks around the room. From here, I can't help but follow the light from the glass wall behind when it shines over the curve of her bare legs. Her skin looks so soft, impeccably perfect. My eyes scan their movement upward, taking in her wide hips and waist until they move towards her breasts. But before I can lose myself in admiring them, she clears her throat, making me look at her face instead.

Embarrassed at having been caught checking her out, I rub the back of my neck hastily.

"Over here..." I walk past her to the other door, which opens to her own cubicle. "Have a look."

As I stand holding the automatic door wide open for her, Miss Lucas stares at the space between my body and the space left for her to enter. She swallows a gulp as she proceeds toward me, turning to the side and sliding against my body to enter the room instead of asking me to move away.

While she slides between me and the door, her chest brushing over my shirt, my free hand curls into a fist, and I bite my bottom lip, trying to ignore the need to touch her.

Damn. I'm attracted to this woman too fucking much.

The attraction has only grown since last night. If she were any other woman, I would have made the first move by now and had her between my sheets as I fucked her into oblivion. I feel the rush of blood to my cock just as a vivid imagination of Miss Lucas naked between my sheets entices me.

"Mr. Drake?"

I break out of the imagination when she clears her throat again, only to find her already inside her small L-shaped cubicle. It is a plain room with no furniture other than her desk and a succulent plant beside the door. I hope she finds it comfortable. My last assistant had many useless complaints, one of which was why the color of the walls wasn't purple.

"Is everything to your liking?" I ask her, still standing outside.

If I enter, the space between us would diminish, and right now, I feel horny enough to not make her uncomfortable with the sight of my bulging front.

"Yeah, it's nice," she replies and then places her bag and folder on the desk. "You left something at my apartment yesterday, Mr. Drake."

She opens her bag and takes out a very crinkled version of my suit from it. Without looking me in the eyes, she hands it over for me to take.

I stare at the crinkled piece of fabric and then at her, unable to believe her. Hesitantly, I take the suit from her hand, dangling it before my eyes to see how it has been destroyed.

"You could have at least dry-cleaned it."

"I thought about that but..." She looks at the floor. "It's an Armani suit, and I didn't have the money to dry clean it. Besides, I didn't ask you to leave it with me. You did that yourself."

"I was making you comfortable!"

"Well..." she coos. "I'm sorry, but you shouldn't have. Thanks for helping me last night, but I can't be doing unnecessary spending until I get my salary, which you promised you would once these thirty days are over, Mr. Drake."

"You've got money for drinks at the bar but not to dry clean stuff?"

She looks offended by my question. Her nose scrunches up as she throws a disgusted glance at me.

"My roommate paid for the drinks," she answers. "Half of my stuff is borrowed from her. I spent my last savings on the apartment because-" She stops herself from blurting out the interesting part of her narrative. She shakes her head, dismissing whatever she was about to say. "Forget it, Mr. Drake. You may cut the cost of the dry cleaning from my salary next month. I won't mind."

My jaw hardens at her excuses. She has managed to disappoint me finally, but this is the kind of disappointment I can't hold against her in a professional sense.

"Take a look at your routine, Miss Lucas. You've only thirty days to call this place home."

She gives a broad grin as I release the door of her office.

"Thirty days is enough for me to redecorate it, Mr. Drake," I hear her say before the door shuts with a soft click between us.