The NØ Frat Clause by H.K. Carlton

Heat Level 3
SKU 978-1-77233-693-1

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Fresh out of college, Lexi Wideman lands an entry level job at a lucrative recruiting firm. Only six months into her tenure, she’s offered a major promotion—executive assistant to Roger Kent, the company’s coveted corporate headhunter. Older, irresistible, and ruggedly handsome, Roger Kent turns her into a liquid pool of need with just one smoldering glance. But the opportunity is just too good to pass up this early in her career. Lexi must find a way to remain professional while panting after her boss. 

Roger Kent is thrown off guard when the company execs all of a sudden decide he needs an assistant. Perhaps he does, but Lexi Wideman is not the girl for him. She's smart, young, and gorgeous. It's hard enough trying to keep his eyes off her. Working in such close proximity, day after day, it would only be a matter of time before his hands followed. 



I looked up as Miss Wideman flitted into my office once again. She smiled then turned her back. She pulled the top drawer to the file cabinet open and began to wade through the tabs with her fingertips.

We’d settled back into the same easygoing work relationship we’d established when she’d worked in the admin pool. She was efficient and capable. We were of the same mind in most things. Generally, she knew what I wanted before I asked. It was hard to believe she was fresh out of college. Her work ethic and business acumen were stellar. I liked it.

For all my earlier worry, things were shaping up just fine. I could do this.

“How is it you wanted this new client filed? They have a hyphenated surname.” Lexi set one of the file folders on top of the desk, and she traced the name on the page with a perfectly manicured pink fingernail. She leaned over, affording me an unfettered view of her ample cleavage. It took every ounce of self-control I possessed to keep my attention on her lovely face.

Shit, this is what I’d hoped to avoid. I fisted my hands to keep from reaching for her. My palms actually itched.

“Do you generally go by first or last?” she asked.

My mouth had gone completely dry. I had to lick my lips before I could speak. “I believe the rule is to ignore the hyphen.” My voice sounded exceptionally deep even to me.

Not missing the change, she stared at me, her gaze darted, questioning. She blinked rapidly. “And this one? Mark-Paul Saint-Jean? The same?”

“You do that accent very well. Kinda…” I caught myself. It was on the tip of my tongue to say “sexy.” I cleared my throat. “Yes, file it the same way, thank you.”

“Got it.” She picked up the file and walked away.

Unable to keep my gaze off her shapely ass as she exited, I fired the pen over my shoulder in frustration.

As predicted, working with Lexi Wideman was pure, unadulterated hell. What the fuck was wrong with me? I prided myself on my work ethic and proper office protocol. I’d given seminars on the subject, for Christ’s sake. It didn't help that sometimes when she looked at me I could see raw desire reflected back at me. Whether she wanted me to see it or she was too young and inexperienced to know how to hide it yet, I wasn't certain. The only thing I was sure of was that she was on the verge of driving me stark raving mad. 


Product Reviews

Score: 5 out of 5 (based on 1 rating)
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elevator going up?
Written by G. Stillman on 9th Nov 2019

This review is going to be brief. The story is a quick read, it has sweet romance and it sizzles, starting with an elevator ride.