Or maybeex-employerwould be the correct term.
Chapter 3
A blonde hurricane.
This is my first impression of the woman I suspect is my new assistant, because in addition to never having seen her before—which makes me pretty sure she’s not one of my employees—the beauty Adil warned me about is without a doubt indisputable.
I’ve always preferred brunettes, perhaps because in my country dark-haired women are in the majority and blondes are rare, but it’s impossible to remain indifferent to Madeline Turner, if this is really her.
I barely have time to assimilate her arrival, though, because that phenomenon of nature comes rushing towards me, without looking.
At the last minute, I try to shield her from the hot cup of coffee I’m holding, but I fail, and a high-pitched scream lets me know I hit her square in the chest.
What happens next puts my world on pause—only Madeline continues in motion.
I watch as the blonde shrugs off her fancy suit blazer, then her blouse, standing half-naked for the entire floor to see as people storm out of their offices while she screams.
I stare for longer than is polite, making no effort to look away from her body.
I blame the shock and not the size of her boobs, which are big compared to her delicate frame. It also has nothing to do with Madeline wearing lingerie in a shade of blue that reminds me of my country’s sky during Spring. Or that the lace from her bra has a little bow resting on the skin between her breasts, now reddened by the hot beverage.
Of course, I’m only mesmerized by the madness of the situation.
She looks up, and I see the nervousness in her expression. In fact, if I had to guess, I’d say she is in a panic. Now that the initial shock has passed, she freezes like the rest of the people standing and staring at me.
She wets her lower lip with the tip of her tongue, and a fierce desire spreads through my body.
It’s a primal instinct. I’m experienced enough to understand sexual tension in its purest form.
Although I know I must act politely, I allow myself to study her.
A full mass of blonde, wavy hair, just past her shoulders. An oval-shaped face and features so smooth and perfect that I have the feeling that if I held her a little tighter than necessary, I could break one of her bones. On her mouth, a light pink lipstick, which makes it look even more tempting.
That will be a problem. I won’t be able to look at her without wanting to kiss her, bite and suck her lips, especially the lower one.
Finally, I get to her eyes.
They are expressive pools, the color of larimar stone[6], lost in nuances between aqua green and blue, adorned by long and incredibly black eyelashes in contrast to the color of her hair.
Beautiful in an impressive way.
The way Adil described her doesn’t do justice to her beauty. I’m used to perfect women around me, but Madeline Turner could make a saint lose his faith.
It’s only when I hear laughter coming from my counselor next to me that I snap back to reality.
“What do you think you are doing?” I ask her, holding on to irritation rather than overwhelming attraction.
Her eyes, which hold mine captive by some kind of magic, turn into angry ones, and I swear I can almost see small flames glow in her pupils.
“You burned me, Your Excellency.”
Ah, so she knows who I am. Of course, how could she not?
“Your Excellency, she destroyed your suit,” my secretary says, looking like she’s about to pass out, but I’m not paying attention.
I take off my blazer, and before Madeline can protest, I cover her with it.
She looks at me, confused, but then her cheeks flush. “Thank you,” she says, because I’m sure she’s polite, but her eyes still show disdain.
