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eBook Category: Erotica
eBook Description: Jessica Seymour has landed a dream job, but she immediately runs afoul of her dream of a boss, Sam Armstrong, who doesn't think she'll make grade. On an assignment together in Alaska, though, the tension between them explodes into a passion so hot it's in danger of melting the ice caps. Rating: Contains sexual content and adult language.

eBook Publisher: New Concepts Publishing, Published: 2005
Fictionwise Release Date: February 2006

35 Reader Ratings: Great Good OK Poor

Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [814 KB], eReader (PDB) [185 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [174 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [152 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [152 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [203 KB], hiebook (KML) [409 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [207 KB], iSilo (PDB) [142 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [178 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [213 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [221 KB]
Words: 53621
Reading time: 153-214 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
ISBN: 1-58608-645-6

"Tin pot television!" he growled.

"That's unfair." Jess spoke firmly, but her body language denied confidence as she shifted in her chair. "I have all-round experience in news and current affairs."

"My dear girl, you're a babe in arms. I need an experienced journalist, not some junior reporter from a hick country TV station," his eyes narrowed as he watched her.

Jess almost crushed the file she was holding in an effort to control her temper. "You're mistaken, Mr. Armstrong," she said hotly. "Your partner, Mr. Powell, chose to employ me on my merits as an A-Grade journalist."

"I am the senior partner and my decision overrides John's."

Sam Armstrong levered himself from his chair and coming around to the front of the desk, leaned toward Jess. His fingers closed around her delicate jaw lifting her face to his. Jess held her breath as she stared at his sensually shaped mouth, inches from hers. "Your merits, Jessica, are those big baby blue eyes and that great bone structure," he murmured, studying her features.

Stepping back, he deliberately assessed the soft curves of her breasts and her slender stockinged thighs displayed to perfection by her short pencil-slim skirt.

Jess stood up, her cheeks burning with indignation. "You are insulting."

Sam didn't seem to hear her. He leaned against the desk folding his arms across his chest.

"Do you know what my partner would have thought, Jessica?" he continued conversationally. "Now, here is a raw recruit who needs lots of work but ... the camera will love her." Before Jess could move, Sam reached over and ran a cool finger down one flushed cheek. His voice took on a husky tone. "And he was right. The camera will love you."

Jess was mesmerized by his eyes, which held hers, daring her to look away. Suddenly Sam broke the spell. "But, I don't have time to train people in the business," he said brusquely. "I expect them to know what it's about and with your background you can't possibly have the experience for this job." Sam turned away but Jess grabbed his arm.

"Just what do you mean by that?"

"It means, I'm sorry but I have no place in my show for you," he said evenly, his eyes on her fingers clutching at his sleeve.

"You can't fire me like this. You haven't read my resume or looked at my video clips." Jess controlled her rising panic.

"I know all I need to know."

"Please, Mr. Armstrong. I ask you to reconsider." Jess spoke quietly to hold back her emotions. Thoughts pushed emotional barriers as she struggled to understand. How could Sam Armstrong do this? After working toward this chance for eight years, she had resigned her job, found a flat in Sydney, and left family, friends ... and Tom. How could he do this?

There was silence except for the sound of Jess' distressed breathing. Sam turned and stared out of the window at the busy city street below. Jeez! I'm handling this badly, he thought. I'm ripping into this poor girl because I'm tired and irritable. He watched a young child skipping along the pavement laughing up at her mother, oblivious to any worries. For a moment, his mind slid back to the filth and squalor of the children's hospital where he had been filming two days before in the Middle East. Could he ever forget the terror in the eyes of the children with seemingly no hope for the future? And here I am in my own way destroying all the hopes and dreams of a budding television reporter. Well done, Sam. You're doing a great job!

Jess looked down at her shaking hands. Tears pricked the back of her eyelids and she angrily blinked them away. Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward, placing her file down on the desk.

"Oh no, Mr. Armstrong. You don't get away with this so easily," she said holding a letter toward him. She was again in control. Sam turned a look of surprise on his face as he surveyed her flushed skin, her eyes dark and vibrant with anger, her mouth pursed with emotion.

"This is my letter of appointment on company letterhead signed by John Powell, Director. If you don't honor this, I will consider taking the matter further and I will also consider suing you for ... for sexual harassment!" Jess sat down abruptly, her legs unable to hold her any longer.

Sam raised quizzical eyebrows. "Sexual harassment? How does that come into it?" he asked, sitting at his chair again and skimming his eyes over her letter.

"You touched me just now."

"I touched your cheek. Hardly sexual harassment."

"It wasn't where you touched me, it was ... "Jess hesitated.

"Well, come on--it was what?" Sam threw the letter on the desk.

Lifting her chin, Jess met his enigmatic stare. "It was how you touched me and the way you looked at me ... the way you spoke," she said, refusing to look away from his cool, green eyes.

"I said the camera would love you. You are a beautiful girl. I am an artist and it is my job to see images through the eye of a camera. If you don't know that people like to look at pretty things then you have more to learn than I ever imagined."

"I don't know what you meant by it but I do know that this job is morally mine. I am a very good journalist and I deserve a chance. If you fire me, I will kick up such a fuss that you will wish you had never heard my name." Jess gulped, praying the tears welling in her eyes wouldn't fall.

Sam studied her, a strange light in his eyes. "You are a lot tougher than you look, aren't you, Jessica Seymour," he said softly. "However, I don't like being threatened."

"Neither do I," Jess retorted sharply.

Sam leaned back in his chair swinging it gently from side to side. He fiddled with a paper clip, pulling it undone and breaking it into tiny pieces. Then he got up and walked around behind Jess. She had nerve he'd certainly give her that. He liked the way she stood up to him particularly when he was being such a pain--and he knew it! Perhaps it was worth giving her a go. God knows they needed another journalist on board. Sam wondered if Jess would cope when the going became really tough. He rubbed his jaw, uncertain of what to do for almost the first time in his life.

Jess could feel his eyes studying and analyzing. She sat quite still. She was outwardly calm and looking ahead, her eyes tracing the outline of the Sydney skyscrapers. She could see the shell-shaped outline of the Opera House and behind it, the bridge reaching majestically across the harbor. Inside her mind was in turmoil as her world crashed around her. The last thing she expected was this reaction. She swallowed hard as Sam Armstrong once again reached for her file.

The minutes ticked slowly as Sam read her portfolio, pausing when he came to the photograph attached to her resume. He stared at it for what seemed an eternity. Jess, in turn, studied his bent head noting the shock of black hair with unruly strands falling over his forehead. His nose was classically straight and his eyes, now downcast, were fringed with amazingly long, dark lashes. His naturally olive skin had a golden sheen showing the weeks of working in the open air. Jess felt an odd tingling in the pit of her stomach. Goodness! He was even more attractive in real life than on television, she thought.

Sam abruptly closed the file and handed it to Jess. She blushed as their gazes locked and wondered if her thoughts showed on her face.

"You had better attend the production meeting at ten in half an hour," he said glancing at his watch as he got up from his chair.

Jess also rose wondering if this strange interview had come to an end. "Does this mean I can keep my job?"

"Yes. But let's get something straight from the start, Jessica. I am tough to work for."

"I'm aware of your reputation."

"Then you will know I expect the best and I get it."

"I have trained to be the best."

"Attitude is also important. I am not interested in journalists who run to the union because they think I've done the wrong thing by them."

"I've never complained to a union."

"Good. Well, you will see the people who work for me don't need to bleat about anything because I treat them extremely well. As for sexual harassment--no one has ever accused me of that before."

Jess' head shot up as he ground out the words and she stepped back a pace.

"Remember, you will be groomed as an on-air presenter of the top current affairs and human-interest program in the country. You will be prodded, pushed and pulled by a team of publicists, photographers and wardrobe people. There's no room for prudish behavior. When you're on the road you could be sleeping rough surrounded by an all-male film crew. There will be times when you are exhausted, hungry, hot, dirty and wishing you were anywhere else than working for World Watch. Do you understand? Do you still want the job?" His face was intent as he watched her and his potent energy reached out, touching and surrounding her.

"Yes, I do," she said crisply.

Sam shrugged. "Okay. I'll see you at ten. By the way Jessica, everyone around here calls me Sam," he said as an apparent after-thought as she opened the door.

Jess turned, her sapphire eyes still sparkling with anger and indignation. "Thank you, Mr. Armstrong," she said closing the door firmly behind her.