A modern re-telling of Jane Eyre that will leave you breathless...
Jack England
Eden Rochester is a force. A whirlwind of intensity and thinly-veiled passion. Over the past few years, I’ve worked hard to avoid my passions, to lock them up so they can’t harm me—or anyone else—again. But Eden Rochester ignites every emotion I have. Every glance from her sharp eyes and each teasing word from her indulgent lips adds more fuel to the fire. Resisting her? Impossible. From the moment I held her in my arms, I had to have her. But tempting her into opening up could cost me my job and much, much more.
Eden Rochester
When Jack England crosses my path and knocks me off my high horse, something begins to shift. Imperceptible at first, the change grows each time he looks into my eyes or brushes against my skin. He’s my assistant, but everything about him calls to me, tempts me. And once I give in, he shows me who he really is—dominant, passionate, and with a dark past. After long days of work and several hot nights, I realize the two of us are bound together. But my secrets won’t stay buried, and they cut like a knife.
Stand-alone.
She took a small step toward me, invading my space. I looked down into her green eyes, giving her stare right back to her until she blinked. Something more than air existed in the space between us. I wanted to grab her waist, to link myself to her somehow. I wanted to claim her, to show her which one of us was truly in charge.
I maintained my stance.
“Do I make you uncomfortable?” she asked.
“Not even a little bit.”
She had no idea. The things I could do to her. The things I’d already done to her in my mind while I lay awake in the apartment behind Ms. Temple’s house every night. It wasn’t some ridiculous fantasy where the secretary bangs the boss. It was her. Something about her that I couldn’t quite define, but that I wanted, all the same.
“Does the way I do business bother you? The way I speak to you?”
I shook my head. “This is a job. You pay me to assist you. I’ll do that in any way I can.”
She cocked her head to the side. “You think this conversation is between a boss and her subordinate?”
I wasn’t sure what she meant. My face must have reflected my confusion.
She dropped her arms before reaching up and smoothing a few stray strands from her face. “I realize I pay you, that you work for me. But ever since that first day, when you won the business from Poole, I haven’t seen you as a subordinate. Can I teach you things? Yes. Do I have more experience? Yes. But you have certain intangibles, things I haven’t seen in any of the others in your position. Don’t sell yourself short.”
I maintained my stance.
“Do I make you uncomfortable?” she asked.
“Not even a little bit.”
She had no idea. The things I could do to her. The things I’d already done to her in my mind while I lay awake in the apartment behind Ms. Temple’s house every night. It wasn’t some ridiculous fantasy where the secretary bangs the boss. It was her. Something about her that I couldn’t quite define, but that I wanted, all the same.
“Does the way I do business bother you? The way I speak to you?”
I shook my head. “This is a job. You pay me to assist you. I’ll do that in any way I can.”
She cocked her head to the side. “You think this conversation is between a boss and her subordinate?”
I wasn’t sure what she meant. My face must have reflected my confusion.
She dropped her arms before reaching up and smoothing a few stray strands from her face. “I realize I pay you, that you work for me. But ever since that first day, when you won the business from Poole, I haven’t seen you as a subordinate. Can I teach you things? Yes. Do I have more experience? Yes. But you have certain intangibles, things I haven’t seen in any of the others in your position. Don’t sell yourself short.”
She couldn’t have surprised me more if she’d backhanded me and spit in my face. Actually, that would have been easier for me to process. This way of hers, the ability to put me at ease while simultaneously stunning me, made me wonder if she was gaming me somehow. But her frank gaze said differently. The truth was there in her eyes.
She reached past me and hit the button to open the doors. “Let’s get some lunch.”
She reached past me and hit the button to open the doors. “Let’s get some lunch.”
Celia Aaron is the self-publishing pseudonym of a published romance and erotica author. She loves to write stories with hot heroes and heroines that are twisty and often dark. Thanks for reading.
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