Page 1 of Don't Lie to Me

ONE

I sang along to the music playing from the kitchen docking station while I sautéed a pan of bok choy stir-fry. I peeked at the clock before dancing across the kitchen to prepare a salad for dinner knowing I had ten minutes to finish up before Jack would be there, promptly.

It was how he lived everything, controlled, alert, and dispassionate – except for a successful closing on a new business property. Jack McMillan was CEO and President of McMillan Holdings, a real estate investment company his grandfather started. He took control of the company when his dad died in a car accident ten years ago.

At the age of twenty-two, he had recently graduated from college and was just beginning to be mentored into eventually taking the helm of his family’s vast empire. Overnight, he became CEO and within the last five years grew the internationally renowned company from a multi-million dollar corporation into multi-billion dollar empire. He possessed power and control at every single moment I saw him.

As his personal assistant, housekeeper and personal cook, I saw a lot of him.

He was respectful and kind, but always from a distance. He wore his confidence like a perfectly tailored suit like he was made for his job and his position, and people bowed to him daily.

He expected perfection and was fierce with anyone who didn’t deliver, but he was never cruel or angry. In fact, besides a slight smile or low chuckle, he rarely showed any emotion at all. It was as if he lived inside a perfectly carved wall of stone where nothing penetrated him. Some days it unnerved me, but I had seen just a few glimpses over the years of his kindness and generosity, and even playfulness, that made me want to see more.

Because for the last two years, I had lusted after him fiercely.

I wanted to watch his eyes light up in the throes of passion and to see him lose control, if even for a brief moment. I suspected long ago I was attracted to him simply because he was the most gorgeous man I had ever laid eyes on, but it went deeper than that.

I inwardly sighed every time he brought home a new toy, or video game for my son Logan, who often accompanied me to work on the days he didn’t have school. As a single mom, my opportunities for dating were infrequent at best. Plus, I hated leaving Logan, even if my best friend, Macy, constantly offered – and sometimes demanded – I go out for a night out.

Jack was affectionate with Logan, often treating him like a niece or nephew, even though he didn’t have any of his own since he was an only child.

I was lost in the entertaining sounds of my new Mumford and Sons album, dancing along by myself in Jack’s impressively decorated kitchen, lost in my thoughts of him, when I heard a throat clear behind me.

Whipping around at the noise, my long blond hair flying out behind me, I froze when I saw him.

Jack stood in the doorway, hands clutching the top of the doorframe, impeccably dressed in his black Armani suit, with his dark red tie loosened around his neck and the top button of his grey shirt undone. There wasn’t a wrinkle to be seen and he looked just as perfect as he had when he left for work in the morning.

It was also the most casual I had ever seen him look, and a warm feeling instantly began spreading through my lower stomach. I couldn’t make out the defined muscles I knew hid under his designer suit, but I knew they were there.

There was a hint of amusement in his eyes along with the wide smile he flashed directly at me.

“Jack,” I breathed out hoarsely. Whether breathless from the sight of him, or the dancing, I didn’t know.

“Enjoying yourself?” He asked as he pushed off and walked towards the stovetop where his dinner simmered. He lifted the lid and inhaled. “This smells delicious.”

“Thank you. It should be ready in five minutes,” I said flippantly, but took a few steps away from him and towards the counter because I was feeling anything but flippant. I turned around and pretended to finish the salad, even though I was really just fluffing it with the salad tongs.

Mostly I just needed a minute to compose myself and hide the embarrassing blush from getting caught wiggling my ass in his kitchen.

“How was your day?”

I watched him out of the corner of my eye as he walked over to the fridge and took out a bottle of water. We had this conversation every night when he got home, on the nights I was still there. But lately, to my own ears at least, it sounded more personal, his voice a bit softer. It was probably my overactive imagination running away from me again.

“It was good. I confirmed your appearance with Jessica for Saturday night at the Opera. She’s looking forward to it.” I bit back my own grimace. Of course she’d be looking forward to a night out with Jack. The only thing that stopped me from wanting to gag is that I knew she was almost at her three-date limit. Then I’d be scheduling appearances, dates, and rsvp’ing on his behalf for other women.

I rubbed my hand across my forehead, and sighed. Either I had to get over this ridiculous obsession soon or I’d have to quit. Maybe I could go back and finish school. The thought alone made me snort.

Like I could handle law school and Logan. That ship sailed years ago.

“Something wrong?” he asked casually. I stopped pretending to finish the salad and removed my apron.

“No.” I shook my head, still clearing my thoughts from my dream that would never happen. “I was just thinking.”

He regarded me thoughtfully as if he expected me to say more but when he realized I wasn’t going to, changed the subject. I was glad.

“Big plans for the weekend?”

I scrunched my nose up. “I have a date tomorrow.”

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