Willing Sacrifice (Knights of the Board Room) by Joey W. Hill Read Free Book Online Page B

position made the most of every inch of his hard, powerful body.
    His gaze sparked with humor. “Yes ma’am.”

Chapter Two
     
    With grim amusement, Max noticed he let out a breath after the elevator door closed. “That woman’s a handful and a half,” he muttered, but of course that just piqued the interest of his overachiever side. A side that embraced the SEAL maxims of be better than your best and the only easy day was yesterday .
    Actually, he expected she was two handfuls. Two very nice handfuls.
    Before the day in the limo with Mrs. Kensington, he’d known pretty much the same things about Janet that most of the K&A workforce did, though his study of it might have been a little bit more in-depth. He was a good listener, and he’d kept his ears peeled for details about her. She was Matt Kensington’s terrifying administrative assistant who demonstrated cool efficiency and an exemplary work ethic that made all their lives easier. To his recollection, the woman had never once screwed up a detail, and Max found that intriguing. Matt Kensington trusted her implicitly, and he didn’t do that with anyone, really. Max had seen him check Lucas’ numbers or Ben’s legal work, but Janet could be riding in the limo, put a stack of papers in front of him, and he’d sign them with a cursory glance.
    When Max was hired, Matt had taken him around the office to introduce him. Though he and Matt had a personal connection, the HR guy could have done the task, and Max wouldn’t have felt slighted. Instead, it kind of flustered him, the CEO himself doing the intros. It had earned him a second look from a lot of people. But it was Janet’s second look he’d remembered.
    She had a way of examining a person as if she was noticing a lot more than most people did. He’d been around enough special ops guys to recognize someone who evaluated strengths and weaknesses right off, cataloging a man’s abilities. He’d taken a good look back, no sense denying that. She’d been wearing a pretty butter-yellow suit combo, with silky white stockings covering a pair of excellent legs. Under her thin blouse, he could see the lace of a camisole top. She was small-boned, small-breasted, but all well proportioned.
    In his time working this close to the executive level, no one had ever mentioned she was a dancer. But on that very first day, he thought of a ballerina, because that was what she looked like, the way she kept her dark hair pulled up on her head, the fine lines of her hands and body. How she moved.
    He remembered what she’d said to him today. “Now I teach.” When he’d put her up on the hood, taken off her shoes, her toes had fallen naturally into a graceful point as she crossed her ankles.
    Her face intrigued him. She was a handsome woman, her facial features not delicate enough to be called pretty. Cheekbones and nose cut in sharp planes, brown eyes direct. The way she kept her mouth glossed in that tempting sheen disguised the thinness of her lips, but that thinness fit her face, like the slim, elegant lines of her dark brows. It was the force of her personality beneath that radiated her confident sexuality, the unmistakable aura of a woman who regularly donned the clothes of a Mistress and indulged that side of herself at Club Progeny.
    He’d seen her at it a couple times, though not close up, because she tended to choose a corner of the public floor at a distance from that coffee shop she’d mentioned. She’d restrain a man with nothing but commands or nominal restraints, but he’d stay locked in the proscribed position as she took a whip to him, wielding it with skill. He’d noticed she didn’t wear the high break-neck heels a lot of the women did. During a break in her sessions, sometimes she’d sit down, zip open her modestly heeled boots to rub her calves, as if she had cramps there. He’d imagined doing that for her, bringing ease to her expression as he enjoyed the feel of her toned limbs beneath his