Read His Rules: Ludlow Nights - Book1 (A Ludlow Nights Romance) for Free Online

for..."
    "You have a boyfriend?"
    "No. I don't have a boyfriend," she said through gritted teeth. "I'm one hundred per cent focused on my career. I don't have either the time or the emotional will to have an affair with you or anyone else. And I never, ever, date clients."
    He nodded his head as if he understood, agreed even.
    And Anastacia wondered what on earth was the matter with her that she felt somehow... disappointed, that he'd given in so easily.
    "I admire ambition, independence, in a woman. My mother and sisters are going to adore you." Olivier grinned when her jaw dropped.
    "Dream of me, my beautiful Anastacia, as I will dream of you. Ciao, cara ."
     

Chapter Six
    The next morning, a cranky Anastacia (not enough sleep) stalked into her office, her heels clacking on the floor of ivory marble. Today she was dressed in a sleeveless shift of taupe silk. A dress that showcased toned arms and long and lean thighs. Slung over her arm was a black patent bag the size of Texas.
    Linda was at her desk, fingers dancing over her keyboard. Over the vibrant green reading glasses perched on her nose, she took one look at Anastacia's face and raised pencilled black brows.
    At the same time an office junior made herself scarce.
    Linda knew the drill.
    At the best of times Anastacia Morgan could never be called a morning person.
    Anastacia on a tear was a person best avoided.
    Since Linda was fearless and had worked with Anastacia from the very beginning, she wasn't bothered by her glorious leader's thunderous expression.
    Linda waited five minutes, no more, no less.
    Armed with tray holding a full pot of strong black coffee, and a plate of Oreos, she entered the lioness's den.
    Anastacia was sprawled behind her huge desk, with a face like a spanked bottom. A small foot encased in black patent pumps with five inch ice-pick heels tap, tap, tapped on the floor.
    Without saying a single word, Linda poured and placed the delicate cup and saucer of white china at Anastacia's right hand, poured one for herself, whipped an Oreo from the plate and sat down to wait for the explosion.
    It didn't take long.
    "Bastard."
    Linda didn't have a lot to go on regarding the identity of said bastard, but by a careful survey of the clues; the file open on the desk, the ten by twelve glossy picture of an Italian footballer, and the fact that her illustrious leader had defaced the picture of said footballer with black ink - a twirly moustache and pointy beard. Linda deduced that the 'bastard' referred to was one Olivier Conti.
    Linda knew that if her boss didn’t want Olivier for the advertising campaign, then Anastacia would be on a collision course with Nico Ferranti. There had been times when they'd clashed, which wasn't surprising since both were, in their own way, control freaks. But their clashes had never ended in bloodshed. Until now.
    Oops.
    "So," said Linda, carefully testing the waters. "We're not using the footballer for our campaign?"
    The way her leader pouted, as if she was five years old, tickled Linda's antennae.
    Oops.
    Trouble.
    "Yes, we're using him," Anastacia growled.
    "Okey-dokey," said Linda in a cheery voice. For the moment collision course avoided. Today was a good day. She munched happily on her Oreo. "Saw the match last night, he played well."
    "Oh, yeah. He has all the right moves."
    Again, Linda's antennae twitched at the throaty growl.
    "I'm assuming he can indeed speak in declarative sentences?"
    Anastacia's shoulders slumped.
    Her eyes joined her mouth in a sulk.
    "Yeah. Perfect English."
    "No squeaky voice?"
    Now her leader crossed her legs, jiggled her foot.
    "He sounds like a younger version of Nico."
    Linda's eyes went wide.
    "Seriously? So, he looks good, can move, and sounds good. What's up?"
    Anastacia used both hands to flip back her hair, gripped and pulled.
    Uh oh.
    The grip and pull was a dead give-away.
    It seemed Olivier had seriously pissed off her fearless leader.
    Linda was just about to ask what he'd done