The Boss

PROLOGUE

PROLOGUE

“I knew this internship was the chance of a lifetime, but I never thought I’d make so many wonderful friends.” As the scents of beer and grease wafted in the air at the Hare and Stag pub, Chaney Sullivan raised a pint of ale in honor of the twelve coworkers sitting around the table for her going-away party. Her chest tightened, knowing she was leaving London and these people. “I’ll miss you all so much.”

“Just wait until we show up on your doorstep wanting to go sightseeing.” Gemma, who rented a room to Chaney, tossed her mane of blond hair behind her shoulder. “You won’t miss us then.”

“Disneyland, Universal Studios, Beverly Hills, Venice Beach.” The thought of seeing these people sooner rather than later brought a ball of warmth to the center of Chaney’s chest. She set her glass on the table. “If any of you visit Los Angeles, I’m happy to play tour guide.”

“Does that include me?” a deep male voice said from behind her.

The familiar Welsh accent filled her stomach with butterflies. The flapping of their wings matched the speed of her pulse.

She stood, turned, and faced Drake Llewelyn, CEO of Dragon Llewelyn Limited. The top of her head came to his chin, and she stared up at him.

His glossy-magazine-model good looks and athletic build, hidden beneath an expensive tailored suit, always brought oohs and ahhs from females. His way of making each employee feel as if they were the key to his company’s success had earned him the gratitude of all who worked for him, regardless of gender. But in Chaney’s opinion, his can-do attitude and work ethic made the man.

Only thirty—eight years older than her—he’d built Dragon Llewelyn into a successful multinational corporation with a global portfolio of media and telecommunications businesses using a combination of raw sweat and street smarts.

Her smile widened with admiration. She couldn’t help herself.

He looked every inch a power broker, except for his hair. In the past three months, his neatly trimmed, corporate style had grown into dark wavy locks, nearly brushing his collar, making him look more rakish than respectable.

She’d imagined running her fingers through his hair more than once. She’d imagined herself doing a lot of things with him. None of which had anything to do with her internship responsibilities.

He raised a brow as if waiting for an answer.

Which he was, she realized. Drake Llewelyn didn’t like waiting for anything or anyone. During her four-month internship in the mergers and acquisitions department, she’d learned that much about him.

Chaney lifted her chin, acting bolder than she felt. The beer, she wondered, or maybe the realization she would be an ocean and continent away from him tomorrow night. “Of course, it includes you, Mr. Llewelyn.”

“Drake,” he corrected. “As of an hour ago, your internship ended. You no longer work for me.”

His warm brown eyes with golden flecks gazed into hers, making Chaney feel as if she were the next special project he wanted to tackle. Her insides quivered.

Not that he would, given the bevy of beautiful women he dated and the supermodel deemed his girlfriend du jour by the media.

But the thought raised Chaney’s temperature ten degrees. If this were a birthday celebration instead of a going-away party, she knew what she’d wish for when blowing out the candles.

“Drake.” She forced the name from her parched throat, feeling more like a tweener with her first crush than a twenty-two-year-old woman. Okay, she had a massive crush on him, as did every other female who worked at the company and most women who breathed, no matter what age or marital status.

The man was a catch.

His chiseled cheekbones and jaw tempted a woman to reach out and touch them. His full lips hinted at long, hot kisses. And his bank account promised a life free from financial worry.

Prince Charming had nothing on Drake Llewelyn. He was King Midas and Adonis rolled into one. Who wouldn’t want to be the woman who captured his heart?

“Make a note of our new travel guide in Southern California, Gem,” he said in that half-teasing, half-serious tone Chaney had come to know and love. “With a new cable channel in our portfolio, we may spend more time there.”

Adoration filled Gemma’s gaze. She, too, had fallen under the spell of the dragon, Drake’s nickname in the office. She batted her lashes and flashed a smile. “Already noted, sir.”

“Very good.” His easy grin crinkled the corners of his eyes.

Chaney bit back a sigh. She’d been longing for the unattainable—okay, her boss—since she met him on the third day of her internship.

Gemma scooted an empty chair to the table, right between hers and Chaney’s. Everyone else seemed more interested in filling their pints than staring at their gorgeous boss.

“But we’re not here to watch football on the telly.” Drake motioned to the half-filled glasses and plates of French fries. “A bon voyage party needs more than beer and chips. I’ll be right back.”

He strode away and spoke to the bartender. Soon appetizers, champagne bottles, and glasses arrived. The table resembled a buffet. Leave it to Mr. Llewelyn—make that Drake.

“Now we can send Chaney home to the States in style,” he said with a satisfied smile.

A barmaid handed her a glass of champagne.

“This is so...” Chaney felt as light and carefree as the bubbles floating to the top of her glass, but she didn’t want to sound starstruck even if she felt that way inside. “...thoughtful of you, sir. Thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do after the hard work and long hours you’ve put in these past months, especially with the acquisition of the cable channel.” Drake raised his glass. “To Chaney, who will be missed.”

Her coworkers held up their champagne flutes and repeated the cheer.

The party was more of a send-off than she could imagine. Tears stung Chaney’s eyes, and her tongue felt two sizes too big. She muttered her gratitude and sipped the bubbly.

He handed her a white handkerchief, the kind her grandfather had kept in his back pocket. She never thought a younger man would carry one, too. The chivalrous, old-fashioned gesture brought another well of tears.

Drake Llewelyn was almost too good to be true.

As Chaney dabbed her eyes with the cloth, her friends attacked the food like a pack of starving hyenas. She didn’t blame them. Everything looked delicious and smelled tasty, too.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Drake asked.

She nodded. “I’m trying to figure out what to try first.”

“I know what I want.”

“The shrimp?”

As he moved closer, his warm breath fanned her neck, and the male scent of him tickled her nose. “Too much garlic.”

Chaney shivered, a combination of excitement and fear. She was used to swooning from afar, not up close and personal. Though they worked on the same floor, meetings and conversations in the hallway were their only interactions. Still, she mustered her courage. “So what appeals to you, Drake?”

“You.”

The air whooshed from her lungs. She clenched her fists, digging her fingernails into her palms. Ouch. At least she wasn’t dreaming. “I, um...”

“I’ve been watching you.” He spoke softly, regarding her over his champagne glass. “You’re smart, hardworking, and beautiful. Don’t go back to the States, Chaney. Stay here in London with me.”

Her heart beat in triple time. Who was she kidding? The hammering of that vital organ would take years off her life, but she didn’t care. Drake Llewelyn wanted her to stay in London. He must have broken up with that supermodel.

Anticipation danced through Chaney. Excitement, too. All the time she’d been dreaming about him, she had no idea he’d noticed her as more than just another intern. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You work for me. Or did,” he corrected himself. “I’m not in the habit of dating employees.”

None of her daydreams had been this good. Nothing in her life had made her feel so special.

Chaney wiggled her toes. But she’d better not get too far ahead of herself. “You really want me to stay?”

“Absolutely.”

Oh, wow. She wanted to stay in London. With him. Mrs. Drake Llewelyn. She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. “For how long?”

His brow slanted. “For as long as we’re both having fun.”

Fun. She thought about his answer, repeated the words in her head.

For as long as we’re both having fun.

Drake didn’t want forever; he wanted to have fun. What he really wanted, she realized, was s*x. And then he would move on to the next woman who caught his eye, the same way he had in the months she’d worked for him, the same way he did with the companies he bought, restructured, and sold for a mega-profit once the newness wore off.

Disappointment ripped through Chaney. The legs of the pedestal she’d placed him on crumbled.

She straightened.

No more getting carried away where Drake was concerned. She pressed her toes firmly to the bottom of her boots. No more crush, either. She wasn’t any man’s plaything.

What had she been thinking?

Forget the guy being a catch. He might be gorgeous. He might be rich. But he probably still had a girlfriend, too. That would make him a cheater.

Disgust slithered down her spine.

Drake Llewelyn was nothing but a player, a man who went through a slew of women in the name of having “fun.”

“Sorry, Mr. Llewelyn.” Chaney squared her shoulders. “You’re targeting the wrong girl. Short-term investments, however appealing, are too risky for me. I’m only interested in a long-term investment strategy.”