How Not to Be Seduced by Billionaires

By: Marian Tee



“Don’t forget to use a condom,” Alyx managed to sneak in just before I ended the call. I glared at my iPhone the second time even as our call ended. Condom? Yeah, right.

Standing in front of the glass doors, I had to take another deep breath before knocking. My heartbeat was still thumping so loudly it completely drowned out the sound of my knock. I turned the knob with shaky fingers and went in, murmuring, “Mr. Kastein?”

As the door closed shut behind me, I saw Constantijin standing in the middle of the room, his back to me. He seemed to be gazing at the magnificent view outside the 180-degree windows spanning half of the room. When he turned around, I couldn’t help but swallow.

He didn’t have to say a word for me to know what he wanted.

The blazingly hungry look in his silvery gray eyes was more than enough.

“Call me by my name,” he invited huskily.

I hastily averted my gaze before he could command me into doing anything he wanted with his eyes alone. “I don’t think that’s appropriate, Mr. Kastein.” I wanted to sound prim and standoffish, but I couldn’t fool myself into ignoring the breathless quality of my voice. I sounded just as hungry and frustrated as he seemed.

Shit.

When the silence lengthened, I found myself glancing at him. He was smiling, a dangerously sexy smile that had my hand unconsciously creeping upward to my chest. It was a futile effort to calm my erratic heartbeat.

“Yanna?”

“Y-yes?”

“I didn’t interview the others.”

That stumped me. “W-what?”

“I knew right away who I should hire or not. But you…” He frowned. “I really do need to interview you.”

He did? Why did he?

“I will objectively evaluate your answers and I make no promises about your chances for getting the job.”

I nodded, still not looking at him.

“But after that…” He paused.

When the silence stretched, I was unable to resist the temptation.

My knees buckled at the promise in his eyes. But it was gone in a flash, replaced by an impassive mask falling over his face as he spoke. “Sit down and we’ll start the interview.”

When I practically collapsed on the seat he had courteously pulled out for me, I had to pretend I didn’t hear him laugh out right. He took the seat next to me again, pushing his seat closer to mine, closer and closer until our knees touched once more.

I glared at him.

His eyes laughed at me, as if daring me to be the first to acknowledge what was happening between us.

Constantijin said solemnly, “So it says in your resume you used to work for your father’s pharmaceutical company. Why did you leave?”

Still painstakingly aware of the heat from his body and the way my knees tingled with every instance he moves and his knees bump into me, I said haltingly, “It wasn’t for me.”

“But if I take you…”

My eyes widened. Take me? Like, take me, like, now?

He smirked. “Oh, Ms. Everleigh, what are you thinking?”

I turned red, realizing he knew exactly what I had been thinking.

He said smoothly, “I’m just wondering how I can be sure that if I take you in my company you won’t feel the same in the end?”

It took me a few seconds to answer. “I worked for my father’s company out of family loyalty – I gave it a fair shot but I just wasn’t a good fit. But the job your company is offering – I want it for no other reason than I know I’m going to love it and work hard to be the best for it.”

He looked at me, as if waiting for me to say more.

I looked back at him steadily since I knew there was nothing else I could say.

Finally, he spoke again. “Well put, Ms. Everleigh.”

The whole interview took about half an hour, and he ended it with the usual, “Thank you for your time, Ms. Everleigh, and we’ll be calling you about the results soon.”

He sounded so businesslike I started thinking uneasily maybe I had just misread the situation, and he hadn’t been really hitting on me. When he stood up, I did so, too. I opened my mouth to thank him, but he beat me to speaking. “Now that’s over with…”

In the act of taking my bag from the seat, I froze at the strange tone of his words. Had interviewing me been that much of a bore?

“We can start talking about us then.”

Shock made my fingers go limp, and my bag fell back onto the seat soundlessly.

“Look at me, Yanna.”

My heart raced faster at how different my name sounded when he said it with his Dutch accent so pronounced.

“Yanna,” he said again, warningly this time since I still hadn’t looked at him.

The command in his voice was like music my body couldn’t resist dancing to and I found myself slowly lifting my head up to look at him.

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