Wet and Ready by Cherise St. Claire

 
    Book 1
    Reese Worthington arrived at the home of DeMarco Diamond ten minutes earlier than her scheduled start time.  This was her third day working for the elusive millionaire and although she didn’t think he even knew she existed, she had to be careful.  The last thing she wanted was to arouse the suspicion of her boss or any of his other staff.  Her phony credentials had been good enough to get her the job, now all she had to do was lie low until she was no longer a wanted woman.
    Reese’s office was located on the second floor of the home.  As DeMarco Diamond’s personal assistant, she was responsible for the usual mundane tasks:  picking up laundry, dropping off laundry, waiting for laundry.  It was a crap job.  He was a busy man allegedly, and according to some of the gossip she’d heard, a dangerous one as well.  Reese didn’t have access to his personal cell phone or e-mail address.  According to her immediate boss, Lester Mint, Mr. Diamond could be reached via him only.  All instructions from Mr. Diamond were to come from Lester only .  Fine.  So be it, Reese thought. As long as her paychecks were on time and her cover was kept, she could live with it.
    “You’re late,” Lester said as she entered the mansion that stood on thirteen acres of prime real estate fifteen miles north of New York City.  He was a bald, humorless guy.  Strangely enough, she’d passed a simple interview with him to get the job.  When he’d called and told her when to start, he might as well have been giving a eulogy for all the excitement in his voice.
    “I’m early, Lester,” Reese said.  “And all the copies of the reports that I needed to make were made yesterday and delivered to Mr. Diamond’s secretary at his office via Federal Express  first thing this morning.  And it was marked confidential.  Tell me, what kind of a guy requires two assistants and doesn’t like them to talk to each another?”
    As expected, Lester ignored the question.  His nose tipped slightly in the air as though he was born of aristocracy when, in actuality, the guy probably hailed from Queens.  She turned to go to her office.
    “Mr. Diamond would like to see you.”
    Reese paused at the base of the staircase. “Excuse me?”
    “He’s dismissed the staff for the day,” Lester said.  “I was just leaving myself.  Apparently, he’d like to take a few days off, but he wanted to meet you while he’s around.”
    “Am I getting the day off, too?”
    Lester pursed his lips and rolled his eyes as though speaking to a child in need of remedial lessons. 
    “I suppose it does but seeing as he hasn’t met you yet, he wants to do so now.  That is if you don’t mind.  He’s out by the pool.”
    “The pool?”
    Reese looked out toward the French doors that led to the massive back garden.  She had hardly been able to believe her eyes the first time she’d checked out the place.  The pool area resembled a lush oasis at some exclusive, tropical resort.  Surrounded by palm trees and intricately cut hedges, the zero edge pool abutted a mountainous wall on one side, which was covered by leaves that looked like ivy to her inexperienced eye. The natural wall could have been cut from the side of a mountain; and out of it a lavish waterfall flowed into the pool.  Adjoined to the pool, a hot tub hummed sensually as steam rose from frothy bubbles.
    “Yes,” Lester said, pronouncing the word with a long hiss at the end.  “The pool.”  Reese wanted to rip off that stupid bow tie and strangle him with it.  That’d teach him to talk to her with such contempt.  “And if I were you, I’d do something about that face of yours.  Mr. Diamond prefers his employees to look a little more . . . well-groomed.”
    Lester Mint walked out the front door before Reese could respond.  She had some choice expletives for the uptight prick, but now was not the time to indulge in her baser instincts.  Her boss wanted to see her. 
    Reese