He pats the sofa next to him suggestively, a cheeky Carrero glint in his eye but I continue with my notes refusing to make eye contact.
“I think not, Mr. Carrero.” Sighing inwardly at the man I have to deal with every day; he’s never dull anyway.
“Your loss.” He closes his eyes again. We pause as we hear voices in the room next to us, faint and distant, that quickly evaporate as the intruders leave again. Both of us silent and still.
“You’ve a meeting in about fifteen minutes, I’m sure half those suits are going to be in it.” I point out, sounding unamused and bored.
“I’ll just imply I was busy elsewhere.” He shrugs, refusing to open those eyes and managing to look crazily attractive in this pose. I sigh.
“Busy doing what?”
“Busy in a cupboard with my PA, trying out the softness of t
