Dirty Little Secret: A Billionaire Romance Duet - Mika Lane Page 0,38

not the good kind of trouble if you know what I mean.”

“Gotcha, boss.” She smiled like the smooth diplomat she was and pulled the door closed behind her.

God bless that woman.

Not that I would mind fucking that little Dani senseless. But there just was no way I’d pull shit like that in the office. I’d worked too hard and wasn’t about to blow it on some pussy. There was enough of it around I didn’t need to look for it at work.

Which brought Saffi right back into my thoughts. And I was about to meet with her dad.

Christ.

As if on cue, my admin stuck her head back in my office. “You’re ten a.m. is here, Varden.”

“Thanks. Be right there.”

I entered the crowded conference room and headed right for Hugh Bartlett. Saffi Bartlett’s dad.

He shook my hand warmly.

“Hi, everyone,” I said to the room. “Thanks for gathering this morning. Welcome to the office, Hugh. Good to see you.”

“You, too, Varden.”

The meeting came off without a hitch, and the analyses of some new potential investments were looking good. Very good.

After the room had cleared, I walked Hugh to the door. “Thanks for coming by this morning, Hugh.”

“My pleasure,” he said, smiling.

He should smile. He made a small fortune every time the firm made a new investment.

“Say,” I asked, “how is your lovely daughter? What was her name? Saffi?”

Like I could forget the name of the woman I finger banged the night before…

Hugh’s face lit up. “Oh, thanks for asking. She’s doing great. Working on some big story, she tells me. Top secret.” He patted me on the shoulder.

That didn’t sound like Little League bullshit.

“Well, good for her.”

Hugh nodded. “Yeah, hopefully this will help her move up the ladder, make a little more money. She’s banking on her new story to be her break-out. Something about a club. A private country club or some such.”

Fuck.

My stomach dropped and I leaned against the wall for support.

Breathe…

“What was that, Hugh?” I had to work to steady my voice. “Your daughter’s doing a story about a club?”

He nodded proudly. “Yeah, sounds interesting, doesn’t it? I can’t wait to read it. The kid can write. Just like her mom.”

He extended his hand. “Listen man, gotta run. Let’s do dinner again soon, okay?”

“’Course.”

As soon as he was gone, I rushed back to my office, slammed the door, and locked it.

“Varden?” My admin’s voice rang from the other side of the door. “You okay?”

“Yup. Just a little headache.”

Shit, shit, shit.

She wasn’t doing a story on a country club. She was doing a story on a fucking sex club! How did I not figure that out? And I was probably going to be part of it.

I fell into my desk chair and buried my head in my hands.

I was pissed. Pissed at myself for doing anything that put me—and the firm—in harm’s way.

I paced the office. Miss M had been right to be suspicious. Jesus, her instincts were good. I could learn a thing or two from her.

This is what happened when I let my dick lead me around.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

’Course I couldn’t be too furious. After all, wasn’t I doing some deceiving, myself?

I had to get in touch with Saffi. If she knew who I was, she’d never reveal my identity.

Right?

Chapter 27

Saffi

The Man in the Venetian Mask.

That looked damn good on paper.

Thanks, G, man of mystery. And sex god…

In the office the next morning, exhausted and drained by that insane session with my masked friend, I found myself on an unexpected roll. I sat at my computer and wrote for three hours straight. When the gang came by to give me their Chinese food order, I actually told them I was too busy.

God that felt good.

Tom invited himself into my cube.

“What?” I asked as I kept typing.

He frowned. “Saff, my friend. What’re you so busy with? Heard you couldn’t even get us lunch.”

I whirled to face him. “Why don’t you get your own goddamn lunch, Tom?”

His eyes widened and his head snapped back. “Damn. Okay. I see how it is. Guess somebody’s on her period. I’ll leave you alone now. Although I did come over here to ask you something.”

I pursed my lips in annoyance. “What?”

“Well, did you want to go out for a drink sometime after work?”

I was done.

“Get out of my goddamn cube. And if you ever talk about my period or anyone else’s again, I will go right to HR.”

He backed up, the color draining from his face.

I turned back to my writing after a couple