Blindsight: Book One

TWO

I PACED THE POLISHED granite floors with a steaming cup of English breakfast in hand the following morning, thinking of Hunter Ellis. He shouldn't interest me as much as he did, but he was every lovely trigger I possessed—sexy, inked, and aloof. My favorite combination. But I wasn't in any place to be thinking relationships. This needed to be all business, and if I wanted to get my own place, I'd need a stable income.

I had to call him.

My eyes followed the letters of his deceptively simple name printed on the business card. Hunter Ellis. Such a simple name for the complex man that stood before me yesterday. But I couldn't let my personal attraction get in the way of a potentially good business opportunity.

I glanced across the kitchen, nervously sucking on my bottom lip, my thumb hovering over the phone. The clock on the oven read nine exactly. "I guess this is it." I sucked in a sharp breath and flipped his card over, finding the hastily written digits on the reverse. I punched them in, hands quavering just slightly, before I took a breath and hit the call button.

"Hunter Ellis," a voice boomed.

"Ah, hi..." I cleared my throat. "Hi, this is Erin Warner, I was just calling you about—"

"Ah, Erin." His voice immediately clicked to a lower register with recognition, maybe even with pleasure.

"Yes, Erin. Sorry, I forgot to introduce my—"

"Perfectly all right, as I recall I didn't either. Can I have a car pick you up in thirty?"

"Excuse me?" I stumbled.

"To talk business. I've got a meeting at eleven," he revealed. "It's now or never, Princess." One minute he was all "business" and the next all "Princess" — who was this guy?

"I...I don't even know what we're talking about!" My blood heated.

"I want you to be my PA. For travel purposes, mostly."

"You...what? Are you insane? I'm sorry, I mean, I'm not qualified for—"

"Everyone's qualified to be a personal assistant," he laughed. "Does hanging out with me all day sound like such a horrible idea?"

"Stop cutting me off!" My voice rose further octaves. His rumble radiated straight through my veins to my core.

"I think you like it." He was still smiling, I could hear it.

"Wrong. I hate it," I grit. "And I'm not qualified."

"If I say you're qualified, then you're qualified. So you see, Erin, it doesn't matter if you think you can do it, I know you can. And as for the other thing...why do your legs shift and your lips turn up in that cute little grin every time I interrupt you?" he purred into the phone.

I sucked in deep lungfuls of breath, gritting my teeth and cursing the day I'd bumped into this man.

"So thirty minutes?" he asked. My cheeks warmed and I huffed into the phone before I could stop myself. His laugh vibrated across the line. "Thirty minutes," he finished and the line went dead, the sound of his chuckle fading into the background.

Exasperated but intrigued, I sighed and pulled my tea into my hands. A smile split my face and my thighs twisted together thinking of seeing him again. I took a sip before spitting the tea back into my cup. Cold. I grinned again, dumping my tea into the sink and scurrying up the stairs to get ready. Apparently, I had a meeting with a very sexy business owner. It didn't even occur to me that he hadn't asked for my address.

"IT'S GOOD TO SEE you again," Hunter, looking as relaxed and sexy as ever, greeted me at his door less than an hour later.

"It's good to see you too," I nodded as he let me in. "I'm not sure why I'm here though." Yes, I am. I need this job. I need financial independence.

"Mm," he grinned, his eyes, flicking up my body. I knew if I wasn't careful I could get swallowed up in the spell he cast around him. "I like a girl that gets right to the point." His smile widened before he took off in long strides through the entry. I followed him into a beautiful foyer filled with photography on every spare wall. Handsome black and whites hung with just the curve of a breast, the silhouette of a nipple, the arch of a back, but more striking was the floor-to-ceiling photo dominating one wall.

A woman suspended from one long twisting rope, her body arched, her bottom round and full, nipples beaded as one long rivulet of water trailed between her plump breasts. She perched on tiptoes, her hair falling behind her body in such a long cascade the tips nearly touched the top of her ass. The only color in the photo was her vibrant red nails. One splash of blood red.

"Gorgeous," I finally said.

"Thank you, it's a favorite. Old though. It's been hanging here for nearly three years. I usually like to switch them out more often than that." He trailed a fingertip over the soft curve of her ankle, twisted and pulled taut as she balanced with ballerina-like precision. "Join me in my office?" He held his hand out to indicate I should follow him.

"I'm still not sure—" I looked around, realizing for the first time we were alone in his home.

"I want to talk to you about this." He waved his hands at the photos on the wall.

"This?" I wrinkled my eyebrows. "But I thought..." I glanced at the leather bag containing my laptop, thinking the bulk of my work as his personal assistant would be paperwork and travel arrangements.

"It's related." He arched a playful eyebrow in challenge.

"Lead on then." I followed dutifully when he walked down the long hall, shaking his head and laughing the entire way. I couldn't have cared less if he was laughing with me or at me; I was too busy admiring his ass in the roughened denim that hung at his hips. My boss. What an intriguing thought.

"Have a seat. Thanks for coming at such short notice. I expect a lot of questions, so we should get down to it. I'm a photographer, obviously." He gestured to the nudes hanging on the walls around him. "I travel a lot for shoots, often multiple weekends in a row. I'll need you to do other things on occasion too, but I really need a right-hand man, or woman," his eyes sparkled then, "when I'm on location. I won't need you here every day when I'm in town, but know my calendar. If I need you outside of that, I'll call you." He leaned back in his chair and crossed one long leg at the ankle. I shut my eyes for one long minute, not hearing a word coming out of his mouth as I tried to get my bearings, calm my racing heart, and regulate my breath. Regardless of his aching good looks, I needed a job. Any job.

"Erin?" His throaty voice rippled in the air between us.

"Sorry." I glanced at a threesome of photos on the wall behind him, featuring just that...variations on a threesome. How would I ever keep it together on these shoots with him?

"I need you there every single trip, no excuses. Sometimes two weeks at a time, whatever the shoot requires. The upside? Paris, Milan, Prague, all expenses paid. And I compensate well," he said, his intoxicating green eyes gleaming, full lips chiseled in the shape of an elegant bow and lifted just marginally at each corner in a perpetual dancing smirk. He unfolded one long leg and leaned forward in his chair, his elbows coming to rest on the edge of the polished grain. "I'm asking you to be my shadow."

www.adrianeleigh.com