The Billionaire and the Runaway Bride by Nadia Lee

Chapter Ten

Declan

Benedict brings Yuna to the couch opposite mine. Still not quite believing what I’m seeing, I stand up and gesture for her to take a seat.

She sits down, knees together like she’s doing a photoshoot on how to sit like a lady. I reclaim my position, but sit up straight, since it’s hard to do an interview while draped over a couch like a strip of limp bacon.

“So. You’re Yuna,” I say.

“Yes. And you must be Declan.”

“Declan Winters.” I extend my hand, hoping she’ll give me her full name. If she doesn’t, I’ll just look at her résumé later.

“Yuna Hae.”

She takes my hand and gives it a couple of good pumps. Her fingers are long, strong and incredibly soft and warm, like velvet left out in the sun.

Electric jolts more intense than I felt at the airport seem to shoot from her palm into my arm and the rest of my body. My heart beats funny—and a little too fast. Excitement pumps through my system, just like it does every time I spot something and decide I want it.

And I want Yuna Hae.

Hell, I’ve wanted her since I heard her play the piano in Incheon.

“How come you didn’t call?” It’s the most urgent thing on my mind and requires an immediate answer.

She gives me a light shrug. “I don’t have your number.”

“But I gave you my card.”

“Yeah, um… I don’t have it.” She gives me a small smile. I think it’s supposed to be apologetic, but it doesn’t feel sincere. If this were an audition, she wouldn’t be getting a callback.

“Did you lose it?” I should’ve gotten her number, instead of letting her rush off to catch her flight. It’s just that it never occurred to me. Women have never, ever lost my number. I suppose there’s a first time for everything, though. Now my I-lost-your-card cherry’s been popped.

Then something else occurs to me: even though she lost my number, we got to meet anyway. It’s like fate, which is kind of cool.

“No.” She clears her throat. “The fact is, I threw it away.”

My happy illusion shatters like a broken mirror.

Benedict starts coughing, then pounds his chest until the fit passes.

I start to open my mouth to respond, then stop. There’s no way I heard Yuna right. “You did, um…what?”

“I threw it away at the airport.”

I wiggle a finger in my ear. “Sorry, it sounded like you said you”—I laugh—“threw it away.”

She nods. “Before boarding my flight.”

The words are difficult to process. “And why would you do that? Did you get it confused with a used tissue, or…? Maybe a gum wrapper…?” Although my card is made with stiff paper. Nothing like a gum wrapper. But she might’ve lost the feeling in her fingers after playing Schubert with such vigor. I’m sure it happens.

“Well.” She pulls her lips in for a moment. “I figured that’d be the wise thing to do.”

“So keeping my card, maybe going on a date…that would’ve been unwise?

“Something like that.”

“But showing up here is wise,” I say slowly to make sure I understand her non-logic.

“Yes.”

“Because even though you claim you don’t want anything to do with me—like calling me—you want my money.” I give Benedict a look. See? The Loch Ness Monster isn’t real.

“Not for free,” Yuna says. “I’ll be working. ‘Just compensation for my labor.’ If you want something that sounds more lawyer-like, I’m sure I can—”

“I don’t think a lawyer is going to help.” I’m still stuck on the fact that she threw away my card. My own fucking phone number!

What’s wrong with a date? I make a far better date than a boss, especially if the woman is intriguing. And Yuna is intriguing. And infuriating. The combination’s something I’ve never seen in a woman. I should hate it, but no. I like it even more. Like dessert that isn’t just sweet, but sweet and tart. And juicy.

“If this is too awkward, that’s okay,” Yuna says in a neutral tone. “I can go to another interview.”

“How many have you lined up?” I ask, then shake my head. “Actually, how many have you had already?”

“This is my first, but I’m sure I can line up a few more. My friends are helping me,” she says.

“Your friends. Like Kim, who works for Salazar Pryce?” The woman Benedict spoke of with respect. I’ll bet Kim has lots of people in her figurative rolodex.

“Yes. You’ve heard of her.” Yuna beams, happy I know who one of her friends is. But then, the only thing terrible in the world is anonymity. “One way or the other, I’m getting a job in the next couple of weeks.”

It annoys the hell out of me that she isn’t begging me to hire her or give her a chance. It’s obvious that being my assistant isn’t her number one dream job. Okay, so it’s only for eight weeks, but she’d get to see me every day. Call me every day. Even come over to my house.

She doesn’t give a shit. She threw away your number.

Damn it. No woman has ever treated me like this before, even when I wasn’t an internationally seen underwear model. That’s how any guy knows he’s got the it factor. Girls fawning over you ever since you’re old enough to know what that means, which means starting in elementary school if you’ve got it.

I’ll be damned if Yuna works for some other less hot asshole in the city.

“Do you have any job experience?” I haven’t read her résumé and have no clue what the hell is on it. Now I wish I hadn’t cut Benedict off earlier.

“You mean, have I ever worked as an assistant?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Ah… So no job experience.”

“But everyone has to have a first time, right? Otherwise, none of us would have any experience.”

“And you like to argue.”

“Pointing out basic logic isn’t really arguing.”

And she says it with the prettiest mouth. I wonder what else she can do with it, then quickly rein myself in. I’m not getting a hard-on with Benedict in the room, and certainly not over a woman who thought it was a good idea to toss out my number.

I want to show her how bad an idea that was.

“Can you make coffee and answer phones?” I ask. “That’s mostly what the job entails.”

Benedict makes an outraged sound.

“Sure,” she says.

“And manage my calendar?”

“I’m sure I can figure it out. But really, if you’re having doubts, I can just find somebody else who’s willing to hire me.”

And have you spend your time with someone else?I don’t think so. “It’s fine. You’re hired. Sign the NDA.” I turn to Benedict. “Email her a copy, plus whatever else she needs to start.”

She purses her mouth as she considers. “Um. Should I have it reviewed by a lawyer?”

Reviewed by a lawyer?So she can toss the damned agreement, too? I don’t think so. “If you like. But if you don’t sign it as-is, you don’t get to work for me. And nobody in town’s going to hire you without an NDA.”

“Hmm. Okay. How about my salary?”

I name her the figure I pay Benedict. That should ensure she’ll be eager to work for me, even though the temp position doesn’t come with the usual benefits.

But she sighs like she’s torn between disappointment and relief. I don’t know what she’s got to be disappointed about. I pay Benedict really well. And she’s not going to make that much anywhere else without any experience.

She seems to be taking an awfully long time to decide.

“Do you have any objections?” I ask finally.

“No, it’s fine,” she says.

“Great. You start tomorrow. Benedict will send you the details.”

Her entire demeanor shifts. Her posture straightens with confidence, and her soft, full mouth curves into a lovely smile. But the best is her eyes. They sparkle like carefully cut dark brown garnets, but with more warmth and fire. They suck me in, and I can’t look away.

“Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”