Anyone But You

By Amarinda Jones

“Mr. Gentry, I need you to sign...” Verity Kane opened his office door and stopped dead still and looked at the scene before her.
“Bloody hell, Verity.” Mercardo Gentry instantly stopped thrusting into the woman while his personal assistant looked on, her hands fisted on her hips. Her narrowed eyes told him she was clearly pissed off at what she was viewing.
“Don’t stop now, Mercardo.” The impaled woman ground her ass back up against him.
“Verity, I...”
“Oh for God’s sake grow up!” Verity snapped angrily at him as she stormed off and slammed the door.
“Damn,” Mercardo sighed in frustration. “Forget about her. I need you now.”
“I could no more forget about Verity Kane than I could live without air.”

“Fucking idiot—literally,” Verity mumbled softly in disgust as she slammed the door shut on the startled, humping couple. That Mercardo Gentry was her boss was irrelevant. The fact of the matter was he should have at least had enough class to either lock his office door before he decided to bang his latest trashy girlfriend on the desk, or be professional and make some vague effort to keep sex out of the office. Verity stormed back to the small cubicle she called her “office” and flung the papers she had for him to sign on her desk. She sat down hard on her chair and told herself to count to ten to calm down.
“I would have to count to twenty-two thousand and fifty-seven for any measure of serenity with that man.” Just once Verity wished she could deal with Mercardo as one would any other normal boss. But no, he was not like anyone else. He was a playboy who inherited wealth and was playing the role of manager in his family’s investment business. He did not act like any employer she knew. In the last six months she had seen more than enough of his taut, tanned ass as he humped yet another “girlfriend” in his office. She should have known not to open his office door without knocking as there was often someone half-naked and sprawled or bent over something.
“The man is constantly in heat.” Verity was well aware she was talking to herself but that seemed to be the only rational conversation she had at work anymore. “Why do I work here again?”

• Language: English
• Publisher: Scarlet Harlot Publishing
• Release date: Feb 19, 2012
• ISBN: 9781465904836

Amarinda Jones

Amarinda Jones believes anything is possible and sometimes just asking for the impossible will surprise someone enough that they will give it to you. Writing is like that. Put it out there and wait for a response. There is always the possibility you may fall on your arse, but after all, that's what cellulite is for. Amarinda believes in taking chances, speaking her mind and aging disgracefully. Twenty years from now she plans on being the neighborhood witch that all the kids are scared of. But then, everyone has to have a hobby.

Book preview

Anyone But You

By Amarinda Jones

Published by Amarinda Jones at Smashwords

Copyright 2015 Amarinda Jones

Smashwords Edition

Chapter One

Now, honey? The man murmured low against the woman’s ear as his hand caressed her bare hip, his cock prodding her ass.

Please fuck me. She spread her legs wide and pushed her butt back toward him.

He chuckled in amusement. And if I don’t?

You must, she insisted in desperation as if she could not bear it if he did not take her then and there. I know you want me. I can feel every hot inch of you against my skin.

Oh yeah, I want in. And before she could say anything else he plunged straight into the wet heat of her body. The woman gave a strangled cry as she clutched the desk. The dark-haired man chuckled in triumph as the woman under him moaned low in her throat as if she was trying to keep control but knew it was useless as he thrust steadily inside her trembling body.

Harder, the woman choked out.

My pleasure, honey. He slammed into her.

Mr. Gentry, I need you to sign… Verity Kane opened his office door and stopped dead still and looked at the scene before her.

Bloody hell, Verity. Mercardo Gentry instantly stopped thrusting into the woman while his personal assistant looked on, her hands fisted on her hips. Her narrowed eyes told him she was clearly pissed off at what she was viewing.

Don’t stop now, Mercardo. The impaled woman ground her ass back up against him.

Verity, I…

Oh for God’s sake grow up! Verity snapped angrily at him as she stormed off and slammed the door.

Damn, Mercardo sighed in frustration.

Forget about her. I need you now.

I could no more forget about Verity Kane than I could live without air.

Fucking idiot—literally, Verity mumbled softly in disgust as she slammed the door shut on the startled, humping couple. That Mercardo Gentry was her boss was irrelevant. The fact of the matter was he should have at least had enough class to either lock his office door before he decided to bang his latest trashy girlfriend on the desk, or be professional and make some vague effort to keep sex out of the office. Verity stormed back to the small cubicle she called her office and flung the papers she had for him to sign on her desk. She sat down hard on her chair and told herself to count to ten to calm down.

I would have to count to twenty-two thousand and fifty-seven for any measure of serenity with that man. Just once Verity wished she could deal with Mercardo as one would any other normal boss. But no, he was not like anyone else. He was a playboy who inherited wealth and was playing the role of manager in his family’s investment business. He did not act like any employer she knew. In the last six months she had seen more than enough of his taut, tanned ass as he humped yet another girlfriend in his office. She should have known not to open his office door without knocking as there was often someone half-naked and sprawled or bent over something.

The man is constantly in heat. Verity was well aware she was talking to herself but that seemed to be the only rational conversation she had at work anymore. Why do I work here again? She pushed her spectacles back onto the bridge of her nose as she always did when flustered. She knew what the answer was of course. Like normal people who did not inherit wealth and privilege, Verity needed money for the mortgage, the car payment and roof repairs to her falling down renovator’s delight house. She blew out a deep breath. Gird your loins and get on with it, woman.

Six months ago when Verity Kane’s eyes met those of Mercardo Gentry, it was one of those moments in her life when her heart skipped a beat and she knew this man would somehow have an impact on her life. She had walked into the Brisbane office for a job interview at Gentry Investments and walked out a changed woman. Visually, Mercardo was the type of man any woman with a heartbeat lusted over. From his bright blue eyes, crooked nose and sensual lips to his tall, lean and muscular body. Verity had felt her mouth go dry when she shook his hand at that first meeting. He was smooth, polished and urbane with a wry sense of humor.

Verity had instantly accepted the job when offered it. Despite the instant panty-wetting attraction, realistically she knew there was no way she would ever make a play for the boss as that was not professional. Besides, despite the drought in her sex life, Verity was not that desperate.

I’m not Mercardo Gentry’s type anyway. The women who paraded in and out of his office were whippet thin supermodels who Verity doubted ever had fat clothes in their wardrobe.

Not that Verity was fat. Her sister Arlo called her well-rounded.

Yeah, like a freaking fertility goddess with freckles. And no, freckles weren’t cute. They were annoying when you were trying to be sophisticated and in control. She did not want to be classed as the girl next door.

Mercardo Gentry—what a stupid name, Verity muttered in frustration as she thought about the man in question. Of course he wasn’t responsible for his name but his actions were his own. Okay, so the man liked sex. Couldn’t he take it to a motel or something? I swear he parades those women around to upset me. Verity stiffened as she thought about what she had said. Being upset indicated you cared about someone. But I don’t care about that man. I care about the business. As long as she kept telling herself that then Verity knew she would be okay. Mercardo was just a man who could not keep his fly closed. That was his choice of lifestyle. So be it. Verity was no moral guardian. She did not want to keep walking in on it, that’s all.

Mercardo Gentry and Verity Kane were yin and yang. He had the charm to bring in business and she had the organizational skills to get the job done. Verity went to work to do just that—work. It was a means to an end for her. But her boss was different. Mercardo had no qualms about turning up late, his face covered in stubble, completely unprepared to meet clients or be accountable for overdue reports because he always knew Verity would save his ass. She knew he relied on her to make sure he always came out looking good.

I should just let him sink or swim. Even as she spoke the words to herself she knew it was not in her nature to do that even though the man drove her mad. Heaven help the woman who finally lands him. She will need the patience of a plaster saint. While visually the man was sex on a stick, to be stuck with him for life would be beyond Verity. There is not enough alcohol on the planet for me to contemplate that. Not that it would ever happen anyway. Verity had drawn a line in the sand long ago when it came to him. He had tried his charm offensive on her and yes, for a second she had been tempted but she needed more from a man than just charm and good looks. She wasn’t a prude but she wasn’t about to be used just for sex.

Ten minutes later, the office door opened and the latest girlfriend passed by Verity’s desk with a very satisfied look on her face.

Fucking slut, Verity mumbled under her breath. What was it with women like this? They were perfect in face and form and they never had a hair out of place after being shagged within an inch of their lives. Verity knew if positions were reversed she would be flushed and sweaty and she would probably not be able to find her shoes.

Did you just swear, Lady Verity? Mercardo asked mockingly as he came around the cubicle partition to stand beside her.

Verity bit her tongue. He knew she hated being teasingly called Lady Verity. She wasn’t that prim and proper. But then he was never going to know that. Verity

intended to remain a functioning robot in his presence. A robot with thigh sweats and a rampantly beating heart but still a mechanical being who had the strength to resist this man. At least one woman had to dent his ego occasionally and she was that girl.

Verity looked up into his amused blue eyes. Mercardo always stood too close. But then he did that with everyone. He was a people person. Verity liked to keep people at a distance. Everyone had their place in her life and no one got close enough to intrude on her space. When he stood so up close and personal to her it gave her a head spin. It wasn’t unpleasant. It was like drinking too much wine and wanting to throw your inhibitions out the window. Verity started thinking all sorts of thoughts she was determined she would never have about him.

No, of course I would not have sworn. Verity pushed at her spectacles as they again slid down her nose. She only ever wore them when working on the computer at the office. I have papers for you to sign. That’s right, be calm and cool and do not allow him to fluster you. Though that was hard to do when tall, dark and handsome was standing beside you reeking of sin and sex.

I am sorry if we alarmed you before.

No you’re bloody not or you would have stopped doing it long ago.

On page eight you need to sign twice. This was business. What he did in his office stayed in his office. Verity often had trouble sitting in that closed room with him thinking about what and who he did in there. She handed him the papers.

No response? Mercardo murmured in amusement.

About what? When under pressure act dense was Verity’s motto.

Mercardo sat down on the edge of her desk and looked at her assessingly.

Are you always so cool, Lady Verity? Do you ever lose control?

I would like to smack your smug handsome face and maybe realign your already crooked nose. How’s that for control?

I believe in doing my job to the best of my ability. Sometimes when Verity heard her own voice she wondered if she would turn into her starched-knickered Auntie Maud.

Of course you do. He smiled a small smile as he looked at the papers she had given him. Where would I be without you?

To be honest I have no idea, Mr. Gentry. Though I suspect well and truly up the creek without a paddle.

He threw back his head and laughed at her words.

You will eventually call me Mercardo one day.

I’m sure it’s on one of my lists of things to do along with growing a mustache and belching the alphabet. Verity smiled coolly at him even though inside she burned with strange fever-like symptoms whenever he was near her. When he laughed at her words it made her heart flutter. It was such a smart-ass-I-know-better laugh.

I would love to see you smile at me, Lady Verity, the way you smile at the other dozen staff members we have. I’m sure you don’t because I disappoint and upset you.

You annoy the crap out of me.

I wasn’t aware I didn’t smile at you. Verity was. She knew instinctively if she gave him an inch he would take a mile and she wasn’t about to be one of Mercardo Gentry’s women.

You don’t like me much, do you? He reached for the pen in her fingers, their hands brushing slightly.

Verity could not hide the sudden jump she gave at his touch. They traded looks. His amused, hers carefully bland. Oh, she liked him a lot but where would that get her other than flat on her back with her knickers around her ankles as she became another notch on his belt? Physically he was the stuff dreams were made of. Morally he was an alley cat on the prowl. Verity did not have a high moral stance, she just preferred total commitment from a lover and not a revolving-door policy. That was probably why no man had interested her in a long time. She did not count Mercardo as he was the boss and off limits and playboys weren’t her style. She wanted substance, not superficial gloss.

I wasn’t aware we had to be friends in this job.

No, but it would be nice. Mercardo slid off the table and started signing the papers at her desk.

Page twelve needs to be signed twice as well. Verity pointed to the two places. As long