Page 24 of Billionaire's Black Assistant

She couldn’t understand why Dean would keep disregarding her feelings this way. He could excuse it away, she knew, possibly with telling her he simply wanted to see her look perfect for the evening. But to Sheri, it seemed like more and more, he was intent on staking his claim. This could be his kind of test, to see if she’d follow his lead or defy him.

Before now, she had been the one arranging gifts and trinkets for Dean’s other women. Now that she was on the receiving end, it left a bad taste in her mouth. Maybe mostly because she knew that just like them, she could be as easily discarded.

No! This is different. Dean cares about you, insisted that firm inner voice. Yes, but only as an assistant, thought Sheri heavily.

She knew him too well, and knew that love and commitment never had a feature in his plans. How many broken pieces of her heart would she have to pick off the floor when he finally decided he was through with their little escapades?

If she didn’t make up her mind soon about what was best for her, Sheri knew she’d be more and more caught up in the fantasy romance with her billionaire boss. And then, it would finally be too late and she’d stand to lose more than she bargained for or could even afford.

***

She is so pretty.

Dean realized that the more he saw of Sheri, the more bewitched he became. From his vantage position where he was concealed, he’d seen her arrive, face half-covered in the decoratively sequined mask. There’d been that sharp tang of satisfied possessiveness in his throat when he saw she was wearing his diamonds with the champagne-colored dress which accentuated her beautiful figure and honey-brown legs, finished in those sexy black strappy heels.

He decided he liked the way the other men in the room couldn’t seem able to keep from staring her way. She looked like she could be a supermodel in that dress, her smooth, soft skin a mixture of mocha and butterscotch, eyes a dazzling brown and framed by thick dark lashes, and her deep chestnut curls tamed in sleek ponytail that begged to be gripped in his hands as he mashed his lips to hers.

Her beautiful bee stung lips seemed to be calling to him even now…wait, no. They were curved in a smile, directed at the tall, broad-shouldered man behind the bar. Even with his mask, you could catch his cocky grin, as he seemed to offer Sheri a cocktail. She looked shy, but accepted with a nod, while glancing around the crowded ballroom. Dean wondered if she was looking for him. A part of him was irritated, though, to see her being charmed by the blond-haired bartender.

Dean recognized him, of course, and knew he wasn’t really a bartender. He’d know Quentin Jasper anywhere. A billionaire in his own right, his family ran a chain of hotels and resorts based around the world. The venue of the ball was in one of such hotels, and in fact, the event was hosted and sponsored by Quentin.

Dean was also one of the sponsors, as well as an old school friend of Quentin. Though in different fields of endeavor, they acted as rivals whether in business or play. Watching the handsome blond devil bring a blush to Sheri’s throat and cheeks had Dean deciding it was time to quit his stance as observer and reclaim his prize.

***

Sheri couldn’t even remember what the handsome stranger had called the drink he’d placed before her, some kind of froth espresso cocktail? But it tasted delicious when she took a sip. He looked pleased at her awed expression. “This is good,” she said in approval.

“Thank you,” he said with a slight bow of that suavely waved blond head. “It’s one of my specialties. Inspired by my love of beauty and brilliance, such as what I find before me.”

Sheri buried her nose in her cocktail, feeling the stranger’s eyes warm her skin with his gaze on her. She shifted in her seat, running nervous fingers over her earrings and necklace. “Oh, I’m sure you mean these. Well, I admit they’re fabulous for making an entrance.”

“I meant you,” he said smokily. “But of course, the diamonds are superb, even if I do say so myself. After all, I recognize them from my store’s collection. There’s only one set like that made.”

Sheri gasped and clutched at her throat. What did the bartender just say? She’d only walked up here hoping it would be easier for Dean to notice her when he arrived. This place was teeming with masked revelers, some in costume, and she had felt slightly overwhelmed though she didn’t show it. She only just noticed the man behind the bar and had found herself drawn in by his deep, gravelly voice and open, warm smile. It did much to calm her nerves as he’d offered to make her a cocktail.

Now she took a closer look at the strong jawline evident beneath the mask and the cleft movie-star chin. Even though he simply wore a white dress shirt rolled up at the sleeves and open at the throat while tucked into black pants, she could tell this just might not be some ordinary bartender. He grinned at her apparent confusion, and tugged off the mask so she could view his face, as handsome as the rest of him with that tall, well-muscled frame.

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