Hired for the Boss's Bed (Harlequin Presents

Don't be such a baby. Feel the fear and, for God's sake, do it anyway.Resolved, Serena Stevens gulped down a breath, raised a trembling fist and almost, almost, knocked on her boss's imposing double doors. But why the early summons before she'd even had time to hang her bag? Was it coincidence that today marked the end of her probation period?Three months ago, David Miles, President of Miles Advertising Australia, had given Serena her first real break. At twenty-four, with a marketing degree but no experience, she'd been thrilled.But was Mr Miles unhappy with her performance as Junior Account Executive? Would he roll back those impressive shoulders, furrow the steep slashes of his dark brows and level her with a stern, disapproving look? Did he want to discuss a demotion?Her stomach back-flipped and her hand dropped like a weight.Not a dismissal!Beyond anything, Serena wanted to prove herself. Growing up with the nickname Miss Least-Likely-to-Succeed had not been pleasant. Chubby, self-conscious, a delayed dyslexia diagnosis...school days were more forgettable than memorable. Thank God for her sense of humour. Corrective tutoring, self-improvement books, grooming courses and perseverance had eventually paid off. Now the sky was her limit!Sydney, with its big-city verve, cafeacute;-culture and holiday climate, would always be her true home. But as a teen she'd felt so caged by her excess baggage and learning disability--add to that a father who questioned her every decision--she'd vowed to some day break free and reach every inch of her potential.London, Paris, NewYork. Nothing and no one would hold her back. Who knew when or even if she would ever return?Serena pressed her lips together and kicked up her chin.But first things first. She more than liked this job, she needed it. 'Junior Account Exec' not only paid the bills, it was an important step in her climb to the top.After ironing damp palms down the sides of her white jersey skirt, she crossed two fingers behind her back and rapped on the timber. Before she could swallow the jet of nerves clogging her throat, the right-side door swung open. She smiled too hard and said the first stupid thing that popped into her head.'You rang?'Mr Miles' deep blue eyes sharpened and one eyebrow quirked before he gestured her in. 'Ms Stevens. Thanks for coming so quickly.'Tugging each onyx cufflink in turn, he accompanied her to the guest chair adjacent his desk. Cheeks burning, Serena slowly folded down as David Miles--top gun, millionaire, hunk--sauntered around the bend of a long curved teak desk.He ran a finger and thumb down an already perfectly aligned crimson tie, which complemented a crisp white shirt. 'You must be wondering why I asked to see you?'Did she see thunderclouds brewing behind those sooty lashes? Serena smothered a sigh. No use beating around the bush. If Mr Miles wanted to sack her, she might as well know now.Heartbeat thudding in her ears, she watched him sit and draw in a high-backed chair. 'Is it bad?'A muscle leapt in the square line of his jaw as he collected a pen and tipped it like a see-saw between middle finger and thumb. 'The news, Serena, is partly bad. But partly very good.'She eased out a breath. Not fatal then. Her hand loosened its vice-like grip on the chair's armrest. 'As long as I'm not queuing for a new job next week, that's good enough for me.'She couldn't be sure, but that twitch of his lip might have been a smile.He sat back, his coal-black hair a little spiky, as if he'd shovelled a hand through it just before she'd arrived. 'You've heard we've won the Hits account?'She perked up. 'The new music video programme? Sure. Everyone's saying it'll be the biggest thing to grace the tube since Idol.''You'd also know I hired Jezz McQade to plan and run the campaign.'Yes, she knew, and had consequently read some industry pieces about this lady'sGrady, Robyn is the author of 'Hired for the Boss's Bed (Harlequin Presents', published 2008 under ISBN 9780373820740 and ISBN 0373820747.