The Naughty King(9)

“Alexander, did you see this?” Jack asks as he slides his phone over to me.

An email from Yamada Enterprises’ president sits on the screen. My eyes race over the words, knowing Jack wouldn’t be showing me this now if it weren’t important since this is our interested buyer in the Buchanan deal.

I sigh heavily. “Gentlemen, it seems that you’ll have a bit of an extension in reviewing the contract. My business contact for the deal has requested that I meet with him face to face while he is in the states vacationing in Las Vegas. Mr. Sutherland and I will be leaving at the end of the week and will return on Monday—”

“I can’t do that, Alexander,” Jack says next to me. “It’s my . . . cousin’s wedding and I just can’t miss it.”

My lips twist. This isn’t like Jack. First off, he’s never interrupted me in the middle of something, and second, when did he start giving a fuck about some random cousin who he’s never talked about until now?

“Who cares,” I say. “I’m missing my sister’s twenty-fourth birthday party. This is business. Skip it.”

Jack frowns. “I can’t. There’s no way I can get out of this one.”

Before I have a chance to fire off more reasons of why Jack should stop being a pussy and go to this meeting, Margo’s voice cuts between us. “I’ll go with you. I am your assistant, after all.”

My eyes widen. The thought of being alone in Vegas, of all fucking places, with this woman, causes my dick to twitch. I can’t be around her that long and not fuck her. It’ll drive me out of my mind.

“That’s a great idea, Margo,” Buchanan chimes in. “You can make sure whoever is getting this company is worthy. It would be nice for you to make a few contacts.”

I hold up my hand. “Wait, just a minute. This is my deal, and I don’t think—”

“It’ll still be your baby,” Margo purrs next to me. “I promise not to interfere in any way. I just want to learn. After all, you’re known around this city for being able to charm the pants off anyone you set your sights on. I think I can learn a lot by watching you in action.”

“Oh, you’ll see me in action, all right.” I purse my lips and cut myself off, not wanting to say crude things to her in front of her father and fuck up this deal.

Fuck.

I sigh while both Margo and her father watch me intently, waiting for me to give in and take the enemy along with me. The information Margo could gain from this trip could be devastating to the deal, but I doubt they’ll be able to negotiate a better deal for Buchanan Industries with Yamada Enterprises. I have nothing to worry about by allowing her to tag along, and it’ll make Buchanan still feel comfortable that he has gained the upper hand on me because his sweet ball-breaking daughter is his little spy.

“Fine,” I concede. “Margo can go, but once we get back, we put this deal to bed. Agreed?”

Buchanan nods. “Agreed. I’ll have my answer for you by then.”

I roll my shoulders and relax a bit in my chair. Spend the weekend with Margo in Sin City—no problem. I can get through this.





Margo

WHY COULDN’T ALEXANDER KING BE a pudgy, fifty-something, bald man with bad breath? It would make it a whole lot easier to pretend that I don’t feel the weight of his stare on me every time I go into his office if he were hideously ugly. As it stands now, it’s hard for my body not to respond to him. It’s like I have this visceral reaction to him whenever I’m in his presence, and that scares the shit out of me.

His advances had backed off a bit from a couple of days ago when I caught the hooker blowing him in his office. Thank God. But I can tell he’s ready to make good on his promise to have me beg him to fuck me. He thinks fucking him will break me—that I’m some little twit who wears her heart on her sleeve—and that pisses me off. He pisses me off.

The countdown to Vegas is on. In just one day, I’ll be on a private plane heading across the country to the biggest adult playground in the world. I don’t know how being alone with him for an entire weekend is going to go. He was probably right. I’ll want to either fuck him or kill him with my own bare hands, but I guess it will be the latter.

“Margo?” Alexander’s voice rings through the intercom sitting on my desk.

“Yes, Mr. King,” I answer with as much professionalism as I can muster.

He quickly rattles off a list of tasks for me. “I need the daily stock report on Buchanan Industries, a dinner reservation for two at Per Se for seven tonight, and my coffee cup is empty.”