Work Husband: Bad With the Boss, #2

By Gemma Snow

Ever since his marketing company took over her boutique agency five years ago, Ainsley Locke has been doing everything in her power to ignore her attraction to Max Elliot, her not-exactly-boss with mysterious eyes and a silver-streaked beard and the uncanny ability to make her want to let down her guard.

But when her date to her sister's wedding pulls out at the last minute and a well-meaning friend lets it slip to Max, Ainsley finds herself spending a temptation-filled weekend sharing a New York City apartment with the man she can't stop thinking about. And he's determined to make her see just how good they could be together.

Max knows Ainsley well enough after five tortuous years of working together to understand she's not the type to blur professional lines. But the desire he's felt for her since the day they first met goes so much further than physical lust. He wants her by his side, in work, in bed, and in life, and this wedding weekend, he's going to do his best to prove it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gemma Snow
• Release date: Jan 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393192657

Gemma Snow

Gemma Snow is the author of several works of erotic and romantic fiction in both the contemporary and historical genres, and enjoys pushing the limits of freedom, feminism, and fun in her stories. She has been an avid writer for many years, and recently moved back to her home state of New Jersey from Boston, after completing her education in journalism and creative writing. In her free time, she loves to travel, and spent several months living in a 14th century castle in the Netherlands. When not exploring the world, she likes dreaming up stories, eating spicy food, driving fast cars, and talking to strangers.

Book preview

Chapter One

You should just ask Max. Brielle perched on the edge of Ainsley’s desk and took a long sip from her travel mug, which didn’t obscure the amused grin on her perfectly painted lips. She tapped the heels of her black pumps against the rolling cart below Ainsley’s desk at an uneven pace as she waited, none-too-patiently, for the response she knew was coming. The conversation, the coffee, the smug smile were common occurrences.

Rather than pointing that out, Ainsley took a very large bite out of her raspberry Danish, an attempt to distract her from looking across the room. It barely worked.

He does make quite the vision in a suit. Brielle was still talking.

I’m not inviting Max. Ainsley’s reply was a little choked through the wave of sugar hitting the back of her throat all at once. Or perhaps the waves of embarrassment at exactly how well she’d been keeping that particular secret, not that her friend of five years hadn’t been able to read her since the get-go. Brielle tilted her head and raised a delicate dark eyebrow.

Why not, exactly? she asked. "Of all the bosses I’ve had, he’s the best by far. And you know he has a soft spot for you, Ains." The tone of her voice said exactly what she thought about Max Elliot, President of Elliot and Dune Marketing Solutions, having a soft spot for anyone.

It would be very inappropriate, for one, Ainsley replied, turning slightly in her chair to boot up the computer on her desk and...damn it...take Max’s office out of her line of sight.

And...

And nothing. He’s my boss. It would be very inappropriate. The words felt even more hollow the second time she said them.

What would be inappropriate?

Ainsley almost laughed, the panic at that familiar tone of voice invading their very inappropriate conversation nearly overwhelming her.

Nothing, Sir. She knew her face was bright red. Her pale skin exposed every secret, and her choppy dark bob of hair provided no coverage for the blush spreading across her cheeks. If it was as bright as it felt, they could likely see it from space.

Morning, Max. Brielle’s voice was way, way too cheery and in addition to the embarrassment, a sense of nervous dread pooled in Ainsley’s gut.

Good morning, Brielle, he said. Good morning, Ainsley.

She had to look at him at some point, otherwise it would just make the whole situation that much worse. 

Ugh, he does make quite the vision in a suit.

Max Elliot would never have made it as one of the models on the design boards scattered across the open-plan office space. He was too rough, a little bit of a scoundrel around the edges that had called to something in Ainsley from the very first moment she had walked through the door of Elliot and Dune. His hair, currently pulled into a loose bun, was dark and thick and, when it caught the light, streaks of gold cut through like stars in an inky black sky. She had begun to notice, much to her own chagrin, that the gold was turning to a more silvery hue, matching the hints of gray in his rough beard. She had never seen him without facial hair, and it played a starring role in far too many of her midnight imaginings.

Good morning, Max. Too cheery. Far, far too cheery. The smile on her face was definitely overkill.

Yes, I think we can all agree that it’s a good morning. His smile was decadent, like caramel or honey, but laced with something that promised. She tried not to think of what exactly those promises might be. What I’m far more interested in is the inappropriate favor you’re not going to ask me for. A hint of his London accent came through, and Ainsley wanted to weep for it. Five years at Elliot and Dune and she’d never once acted upon her infuriating obsession with the hot, powerful, very wealthy boss who had built a major player in the marketing industry from the ground up, but that didn’t mean it was easy.

Ainsley needs a date for a wedding, Brielle put it. Ainsley needed new friends.

Max raised a dark eyebrow and amusement seemed to dance in those distractingly beautiful eyes. That’s not so inappropriate, he said. She had to be imagining the heat in his gaze. Men looked at Bri with heat in their gaze. She was tall, curvy, blonde, and confident, a deserved confidence borne from her creative intelligence and hustle. Ainsley got by. Certainly, she’d enjoyed her fair share of cute country boys and traveling businessmen in her years since relocating to Nashville, but Max blew them out of the water by a mile. And still...

It’s in New York, she explained, a last-ditch effort to get out of this dangerous conversation and finish up some work before getting ready for her trip. My date pulled out at the last minute, but it’s no biggie. Unfortunately, it was a bit of a biggie, since going stag to her own sister’s wedding was going to mean a barrage of well-intended and very invasive questioning from The Aunts, her mother’s four sisters, and from Nana GiGi, who promised to pray for her every time Ainsley brought up her success at work. Not that Kai would have deflected those interrogations, precisely, given the enormous rainbow tattooed along his forearm and his deep and abiding love for his favorite model, Rafe, but at least she could have had someone to get drunk with.

I’m actually flying out to New York tonight, Max replied. Presenting to Talisman tomorrow afternoon. She knew that. She had been working on the Talisman Makeup Zodiac Collection designs for the better part of three months, and it was a testament to how much Max’s mere presence befuddled her that the presentation date had slipped her mind.

Phone for you, Mr. Elliot. Max’s personal assistant, Xan, called across the open space, and Max gave them a quick nod. It’s the Boston team.

Max looked back at her as if he had more to say, and Ainsley wanted to know and didn’t want to know exactly what that was in equal parts. Instead, he simply smiled, bid them a good morning, and walked over to his glass-walled office where she would have to spend the rest of the day pretending not to watch him. It was impressive to see Max Elliot work. He somehow forged a path between European architect and California surf king, mysterious and honest all at once, confident, powerful, demanding and yet, so kind, so appreciative of those who worked for him.

Technically, she didn’t work for him. Her own organization, a small boutique company called Skywriting Marketing, had been offered a buyout five years previous and she had accepted on the basis of Max’s hands-on management of the merger. He had been personal, understanding, and approachable, and had put into writing the protections that she had demanded for both her employees and herself. While his name was on the company stationery, she wielded no small amount of power in