Hired For His Pleasure: The Talk of Hollywood / Keeping Her Up All Night / Buttoned-Up Secretary, British Boss

Jaxon Wilder wouldn’t be here at all if Stazy had her way!

A fact he was well aware of if his rueful smile was any indication. He shrugged those impossibly wide shoulders. ‘Then I guess the outcome of all this is completely in your grandfather’s hands.’

‘Yes,’ she acknowledged heavily, knowing her grandfather had left her in no doubt earlier as to what he had already decided.

Geoffrey was his usual charming self when he returned downstairs a short time later, obviously refreshed and alert from his nap. He took charge of the conversation as they all ate what on the surface appeared to be a leisurely dinner together.

Beneath that veneer of politeness it was a different matter, of course: Stazy still viewed Jaxon Wilder with suspicion; and on his part she was sure there was amusement, at her expense, glittering in those mercurial grey eyes every time he so much as glanced her in her direction!

By the time they reached the coffee stage of the meal Stazy could cheerfully have screamed at the underlying tension in the air that surrounded them.

‘So.’ Her grandfather finally sat back in his chair at the head of the table. ‘Did the two of you manage to come to any sort of compromise in my absence?’

Jaxon gave a derisive smile as he saw the way Stazy’s mouth had thinned into stubbornness. ‘I believe my conclusion is that all the talking in the world between the two of us won’t make the slightest bit of difference when you are the one to have the final say in the matter!’

‘Indeed?’ the older man drawled. ‘Is that what you believe, too, Stazy?’

She shrugged slender shoulders. ‘You know that I will go along with whatever you decide, Gramps.’

‘I would rather have your co-operation, darling,’ Geoffrey prompted gently.

Jaxon watched Stazy from beneath lowered lids as he took a sip of his brandy, knowing her initial antagonism towards him hadn’t lessened at all over the hours. That if anything Stazy seemed even more wary of him now than she had been earlier—to the point where she had avoided even looking at him for the past half an hour or so, let alone making conversation with him.

Could that possibly be because she was as physically aware of him as Jaxon was of her …?

Doubtful!

She grimaced before answering her grandfather. ‘Mr Wilder has very kindly pointed out to me that he isn’t the only film director interested in making a film about Granny.’ The coldness of Stazy’s tone implied she considered Jaxon anything but kind.

‘So I believe, yes.’ Geoffrey nodded.

Stazy’s eyes widened. ‘You knew that?’

‘Of course I knew, darling,’ her grandfather dismissed briskly. ‘I may not be in the thick of things nowadays, but I still make it my business to know of anything of concern to my family or myself.’

Jaxon frowned. ‘In my defence, I would like you to know that I have every intention of giving a fair and truthful version of the events of seventy years ago.’

‘You wouldn’t be here at all if I wasn’t already well aware of that fact, Jaxon.’ Steely-blue eyes met his unblinkingly. ‘If I had believed you were anything less than a man of integrity I would never have spoken to you on the telephone, let alone invited you into my home.’

His respect and liking for the older man deepened. ‘Thank you.’

‘Oh, don’t thank me too soon.’ Sir Geoffrey smiled. ‘I assure you, you’ve yet to convince my granddaughter!’ he drawled, with an affectionate glance at Stazy’s less than encouraging expression.

Jaxon grimaced. ‘Perhaps the situation might change once we’ve worked together …?’

‘Stazy …?’ Geoffrey said softly.

Stazy was totally aware of being the focus of both men’s gazes as they waited for her to answer—her grandfather’s encouraging, Jaxon Wilder’s much more guarded as he watched her through narrowed lids.

But what choice did she have, really …?

Her own feelings aside, her grandfather might have said he would have to accept Jaxon’s film and ‘be damned’, but Stazy wasn’t fooled for a moment. She knew of her grandfather’s deep and abiding love for her grandmother, and of how much it would hurt him—perhaps fatally—if the film about Anastasia were to be in any way defamatory. And the only way to guarantee that didn’t happen was if she agreed to work with Jaxon Wilder.

‘Okay,’ Stazy agreed heavily. ‘I can give you precisely one week of my time at the beginning of my summer break.’ She glared across at Jaxon as she recognised

the triumphant gleam that had flared in his gaze at her capitulation. ‘But only on the condition.’

‘Another condition?’ Jaxon grimaced.

She nodded. ‘My grandfather has to give his full approval of the screenplay once it’s been written,’ she added firmly.

Working here with the prickly Stazy Bromley for a week was far from ideal as far as Jaxon was concerned. But not impossible when he considered the alternative …

‘Fine.’ He nodded abrupt agreement.

The tension visibly left Sir Geoffrey’s shoulders, and Stazy saw this as evidence that he hadn’t been as relaxed about this situation as he wished to appear. ‘In that case, shall we expect to see you back here the first week of July, Jaxon?’

‘Yes.’ Even if that would involve reshuffling his schedule in order to fit in with Stazy Bromley’s.

She still looked far from happy about the arrangement.

Her next comment only confirmed it. ‘A word of warning, though, Jaxon—if anything happens to my grandfather because of this film then I am going to hold you totally responsible!’

Great.

Just great!

CHAPTER THREE

‘WHAT’S with all the extra security at the front gates?’

Much as six weeks previously, Stazy had been prowling restlessly up and down in the drawing room of Bromley House as she waited for Jaxon Wilder. Her stomach had tightened into knots when she’d finally seen their visitor had arrived. Not in the expensive black sports car she had been expecting, but on a powerful black and chrome motorbike instead.

Convinced Jaxon Wilder couldn’t possibly be the person riding that purring black machine, and confused as to why the guards had let a biker through the front gates at all, Stazy had continued to frown out of the window as the rider had brought the bike to a halt outside the drawing room window, before swinging off the seat and straightening to his full, impressive height.

The man was completely dressed in black—black helmet with smoky-black visor, black leathers that fitted snugly to muscled shoulders and back, narrowed waist and taut backside, and long, powerful legs. Black leather gloves. And heavy black biker boots.

He—it was definitely a he, with that height and those wide and muscled shoulders—had had his back turned towards her as he’d removed his gloves, before unfastening and removing the helmet and shaking back his almost shoulder-length dark hair as he placed the helmet on top of the black leather seat.

Stazy had felt the colour drain from her cheeks as the rider had turned and she had instantly recognised him. Jaxon Wilder. Almost instantly he had looked straight up into the window where she stood staring down at him, leaving her in absolutely no doubt as to his knowing he was being watched.

Staring?

Gaping at him was probably a more apt description!

All her defences had gone—crumbled—with the disappearance of the sophisticated man she had met six weeks ago, wearing a discreetly tailored suit, silk shirt and tie, with his dark hair slightly long but nevertheless neatly styled. In his place was a rugged and dangerous-looking man who looked as if he would be completely at home at a Hell’s Angels reunion!

Stazy had left all the details of Jaxon’s visit to her grandfather, knowing from conversations with Geoffrey that the two men had been in contact by telephone on several occasions during the last six weeks, and that the date for Jaxon to arrive at Bromley House had been fixed for today—the day after Stazy had driven herself down from London.

That initial meeting with Jaxon, the sizzling awareness she had felt, had seemed like something of a dream once Stazy had been back in London. So much so that she hadn’t even mentioned her encounter to any of her friends at the university. Besides, she very much doubted that her work colleagues would have been interested in knowing she had spent part of the weekend with the famous Hollywood actor and director Jaxon Wilder.

But that didn’t mean Stazy hadn’t thought about him. About the way he looked. The aura of male power that was so much a part of him. The mesmerising grey of his eyes. The sensual curve of those chiselled lips. The deep and sexy timbre of his voice.

That aura was even more in evidence today—dangerously so!—as he looked up at her and gave her a slow and knowing grin.

Stazy had been completely flustered at being caught staring at him. Damn it, just because the man had arrived today looking like testosterone on legs, it didn’t mean she had to behave as though she were no older than one of her students. She was virtually drooling, with her tongue almost hanging out, and she found it impossible to look away from how hot Jaxon looked in biker’s leathers!

He had become no less imposing when the butler had shown him into the drawing room. Those leathers fitted Jaxon’s muscled body like a second skin, the black boots added a couple of inches to his already considerable height, and that overlong dark hair fell softly onto his shoulders.

Already feeling something of a fool for being caught staring out of the window at him in that ridiculous way, Stazy was in no mood to repeat the experience.

‘And a good afternoon to you, too, Jaxon,’ she drawled pointedly.

Humour lightened his eyes. ‘Are we aiming at playing nice this time around?’

‘I thought we might give it a try, yes.’ The tartness in her voice totally belied that.

Jaxon grinned, totally appreciative of how good Stazy looked in a white blouse that fitted snugly to the flatness of her abdomen and the fullness of her breasts, with faded denims fitting just as snugly to her curvaceous bottom and long and slender legs. Her glorious red-gold hair tumbled in loose layers over her shoulders and down the slenderness of her back today. And those sultry green eyes glowed like twin emeralds in the sun-kissed beauty of her delicately beautiful face.

She looked far younger and sexier today than the twenty-nine Jaxon knew her to be. In fact if any of his own university lecturers had ever looked this good then he doubted he would ever have been able to concentrate on attaining his degree. ‘In that case, good afternoon, Stazy,’ he drawled.

She gave him a slow and critical perusal, from the soles of his booted feet to his overlong hair. ‘Are you on your way to a fancy dress party?’

He raised derisive brows. ‘Whatever happened to playing nice …?’

She shrugged. ‘It seems a perfectly reasonable question, considering the way you’re dressed today. Or not, as the case may be.’ She grimaced.

After the way she had stared wide-eyed at him out of the window earlier, Jaxon wasn’t at all convinced by Dr Stazy Bromley’s condescending tone in regard to the way he was dressed. He returned her shrug. ‘I keep an apartment for my use when I’m in London, and the car and the bike are kept there too. As it’s such a beautiful day, and I’ve been stuck on a plane for hours, I decided a ride down on the bike was called for.’ He gave an appreciative smile. ‘Have you ever been on a bike before, Stazy?’

‘No,’ Stazy answered huskily, her cheeks blazing with colour as she was assailed with the idea of wrapping her legs around that monstrous machine, feeling its vibration between her legs even as her arms were tightly clasped about the strength of Jaxon’s waist, her breasts pressed against the warmth of that muscled back—

‘Would you like to …?’

Stazy straightened abruptly, completely nonplussed at the way her thoughts kept wandering down a sensual path that was totally alien to her. Especially as she had managed to convince herself these last six weeks that she had imagined finding this man in the least attractive! ‘No, thanks,’ she dismissed coolly.

‘You only have to say so if you should change your mind …’

‘I won’t,’ she assured firmly. ‘Is the bike also the reason for the long hair?’ she prompted abruptly, fighting the uncharacteristic longing to run her fingers through those silky dark locks.

She had dated very little during the past eleven years, and the few men she had been out with had always possessed intellect rather than brawn. She had never particularly cared for long hair on men—had always thought it rather effeminate.

Jaxon had shown on the last occasion they had met that he was a man of intellect as well as brawn. And as for his being effeminate—the man was so blatantly male there was no possibility of ever doubting his masculinity!

‘The long hair is for a pirate movie I start filming next month.’ He ran his fingers ruefully through the length of that hair.

In exactly the same way Stazy’s fingers itched to do!

She clasped her wayward hands firmly together behind her back. ‘I’d always assumed actors wore a wig or extensions for those sorts of roles?’

He grimaced. ‘I’ve always preferred to go with the real thing.’

Just the thought of Jaxon as a pirate, sweeping his captive—her!—up into his arms, was enough to make Stazy’s palms feel damp. ‘Whatever,’ she snapped.

What on earth was wrong with her?

She’d never had fantasies about being swept off her feet by a marauding pirate before, so why now?

The disturbing answer to that question unfortunately stood only feet away from her …

‘So, you didn’t answer me—what’s with the added security at the front gates?’ Jaxon prompted lightly.

‘I’m afraid it’s all over the estate—not just the front gates.’ Stazy shrugged. ‘My grandfather arranged it.’

That didn’t sound good. ‘To keep the two of us in or other people out?’ he asked.

‘Very funny.’ Those full and sensuous lips thinned at his teasing. ‘Gramps received a telephone call late last night and the security guards arrived almost immediately afterwards. I believe he did attempt to call you and give you the option to postpone your visit until a later date, but he couldn’t reach you on any of the telephone numbers you’d given him …’ She arched red-gold brows.

‘As I said earlier, I only arrived in England a few hours ago. I was probably in transit,’ Jaxon dismissed distractedly. ‘Any idea what the problem is?’

‘Gramps never discusses matters of security with me.’ She shook her head. ‘Unfortunately you won’t be able to discuss it with him either,’ she added unapologetically, ‘because he left for London very early this morning.’

Meaning that, apart from the household staff, the two of them were currently alone here together.

Probably not a good idea, when Jaxon was totally aware of Stazy’s femininity today in the fitted blouse and tight denims. And that glorious unconfined red-gold hair was a temptation he was barely able to resist reaching out and touching.

What would it feel like, he wondered, to entangle his fingers in that silky hair? Or, even more appealing, to have the length of that gorgeous hair tumbling sensuously about his thighs as a naked Stazy knelt between his parted legs, her fingers curled about his throbbing shaft as she bent forward to taste him …?

‘He did say he would try to telephone you later today to explain,’ she added dismissively.

‘Fine,’ Jaxon accepted tersely, aware that his erotic imaginings had produced a bulge of arousal beneath the fitted leathers. Something Stazy was going to become aware of too if he didn’t get out of here soon!

‘I’m sure he’ll understand if, under the circumstances, you decide you would rather leave the research for now and come back another time …’

Was that hope he heard in Stazy’s voice? Probably, Jaxon acknowledged ruefully. Despite her casual appearance, she didn’t seem any more pleased to see him this time around than she had six weeks ago. ‘Sorry to disappoint you, Stazy, but I don’t have any other time free.’

‘I assure you it makes absolutely no difference to me whether you stay or go,’ she dismissed scathingly.

Nope, Stazy wasn’t pleased to have him here at all. ‘In that case, I’m staying,’ he drawled.

Stazy nodded tersely. ‘Gramps left all the necessary papers in the library for us to look through, if you would like to get started?’

Jaxon shook his head. ‘I’ve been travelling for almost twenty-four hours. What I would really like to do is shower and change out of these leathers.’ All of that should give enough time for his wayward arousal to ease!

Unfortunately Jaxon’s request instantly gave Stazy an image of Jaxon stripped out of those decadent leathers, standing naked beneath a hot shower, the darkness of his hair wet and tousled as rivulets of soapy water ran down his hard and tanned torso—

‘Would you like some tea before you go upstairs?’ she bit out abruptly, inwardly cursing the way her breasts felt fuller just at her thinking about a naked Jaxon in the shower.

This was ridiculous, damn it! She had never been a sensual being—had certainly never—ever!—reacted like this in her life before, let alone found her imagination wandering off into flights of fantasy about a man whose reputation with women was legendary!

‘Just the shower and a change of clothes, thanks.’

She nodded. ‘I’ll have Little take you up to the suite of rooms my grandfather has had prepared for your arrival.’

‘Why put the butler to all that trouble when you’re already here …?’ Jaxon asked huskily.

Stazy stilled, her finger poised over the button that would summon the butler back to the drawing room, before slowly turning to look at Jaxon. The mockery in those assessing grey eyes and the challenging expression on his ruggedly handsome face indicated that he was aware of exactly how much his suggestion had disconcerted her.

Her mouth thinned. ‘Fine.’

Jaxon realised this was going to be a long week if the two of them were going to get into a battle of wills over something as small as Stazy showing him up to his suite of rooms!

‘I trust you didn’t have too much of a problem rearranging your departure for Iraq to next week instead of this?’ He attempted conversation as the two of them walked up the wide staircase together.

She gave him the briefest of glances from those emerald-green eyes. ‘Would it bother you if I had?’

‘Honestly? Not really.’ He grimaced, only to raise surprised brows as she gave a laugh. A husky laugh that brought a warm glow to those sultry green eyes. A dimple appeared in her left cheek as the parted fullness of her lips curved into a smile.

Strangely, Jaxon had found himself thinking about those sensuous lips more often than he would have liked these past six weeks. Full and luscious lips that were at odds with the rest of Stazy’s buttoned down, no-nonsense appearance. The sort of lips that would be delicious to kiss and taste, and to have kiss and taste him in return.

Something he probably shouldn’t think of again when he was already so hard his erection waxs pressing painfully against the confines of his leathers!

‘Which isn’t to say I don’t appreciate your having—’

‘Oh, don’t go and spoil it by apologising, Jaxon.’ Stazy still chuckled softly as they reached the top of the stairs and she turned right to walk down the hallway ahead of him. ‘If we’re to spend any amount of time together then you need to know that I’ll appreciate your honesty much more than I would any false charm.’

‘My charm is never false,’ he snapped irritably.

Stazy turned to quirk a teasing brow. ‘Never? Be warned, Jaxon, I’m guilty of having watched film awards on television in the past!’

‘Guilty …?’

She snorted. ‘Oh, come on, Jaxon—it’s all so much glitzy hype, isn’t it?’

‘I believe the newspapers praised me for the shortness of my acceptance speech this year,’ he drawled.

‘I’m not surprised; I thought your co-star was never going to get off the podium!’

‘She can be … a little emotional,’ Jaxon allowed reluctantly.

‘A little …?’ Stazy raised mocking brows. ‘She thanked everyone but the man who sweeps the studio floor!’

His eyes narrowed. ‘You really can be a—’ He broke off with an impatient shake of his head. ‘Never mind,’ he muttered tersely.

Stazy pushed open the door to the suite of rooms she knew her grandfather had allocated to his guest. The green and cream decor and dark furniture there was more obviously masculine than in some of the other guest suites, as was the adjoining cream and gold bathroom visible through the open doorway. But it was the massive four-poster bed that dominated.

‘The sitting room is through here.’ She turned away from the intimacy of the bedroom to walk through to the adjoining room with its green carpet and cream sofa. A mahogany desk placed in front of the bay window looked out over the gardens at the back of the house, with the blue of the sea visible above the high wall that surrounded the grounds.

‘This is very nice,’ Jaxon murmured evenly.

Stazy eyed him derisively. ‘You seem a little … tense?’

Those grey eyes narrowed. ‘I wonder why!’

She shrugged. ‘Can I help it if the much publicised Wilder charm doesn’t work on me?’

Jaxon’s mouth thinned at the deliberate insult. ‘You shouldn’t believe everything you read in trashy magazines!’

Her eyes flashed deeply green. ‘I’ve never read a trashy magazine in my life, thank you very much!’

‘Too lowbrow for you?’ he taunted.

She drew in a sharp breath. ‘My grandfather made it clear to me before he left that he expected me to be polite to a guest in his home during his absence—’

‘I hate to be the one to tell you—but so far today you’ve failed. Miserably!’ Jaxon bit out.

Stazy eyed him coolly. ‘Being polite doesn’t mean I have to be insincere.’

‘If you wouldn’t mind …?’ He began to unzip those body-moulding leathers. ‘I would like to take my shower now.’ He arched mocking brows.

Stazy had no doubt that Jaxon’s challenging attitude now was in return for her earlier scathing comments about ‘the much-published Wilder charm’. But as he continued to move that zip further and further down his hard muscled chest she knew it was a challenge she simply didn’t have the sophistication—or the experience!—to meet.

‘Come downstairs when you’re ready and I’ll show you the library where we’re to work,’ she said stiltedly, before turning sharply on her booted heels and hurrying over to the doorway.

Totally aware of the sound of Jaxon’s throaty laughter behind her.

‘Where do you want to start?’

‘I have absolutely no idea.’ Jaxon looked down in some dismay at the copious amount of documents and notebooks Geoffrey Bromley had left neatly stacked on the desktop in the library for him to look through.

Jaxon wasn’t sure he would be able to get through them all in just the week Stazy had agreed to give him.

The library itself was full of floor to ceiling mahogany bookcases stacked mainly with leather-bound books, although some of the shelves near the door seemed to be full of more modern hardbacks that he might like to explore another time.

Jaxon felt somewhat refreshed after a long cold shower and a change of clothes, and thankfully had succeeded in dissipating the last of his erection as well as washing off the travel dust.

The erection was something—despite their sharp exchange in his suite earlier—that was guaranteed not to stay away for very long if Stazy was going to continue bending over the desk in that provocative way, her denims clearly outlining the perfect curve of her bottom.

‘Maybe we should just sort them out year by year today, and start looking through them properly tomorrow?’ he prompted tersely.

‘Sounds logical.’ Stazy nodded.

Jaxon regarded her through narrowed lids. ‘And are you big on logic?’