Trapped By My Boss: A Forbidden Romance

By S.E. Law

My boss trapped me and gave me a baby.

I signed up to be a personal assistant to a billionaire known for his demanding ways.

No biggie. I’ve worked with difficult men before and I know how to handle myself.

But I didn’t realize Keith Commons would be so gorgeous … or so relentless.

We take a trip to Tahiti, for business of course.

But when we get to the island, everything changes.

I’m trapped.

I'm pregnant.

And my gorgeous boss is the baby’s father.

What do I do now?


What happens in Paradise stays in Paradise … or at least that’s what Kelsey thinks! But the curvy girl looks amazing in a bikini, and the billionaire's only too happy to sample those curves for keeps. Will Kelsey and Keith make it work? Or will those saucy memories slowly fade with the Tahitian sun? No cheating, no cliffhangers, and always a HEA for my readers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: S.E. Law Romance Author
• Release date: Jan 3, 2021

Book preview

1

Kelsey

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Icheck my watch for the third time in thirty minutes. I can be a little OCD sometimes, and I feel like three is my lucky number. This is the third time I’ve sorted the designs for the new line of shoes that need to be approved by my boss, Keith Commons. I work for one of the trendiest shoe designers in New York City, which brand is imaginatively called: Keith Commons.

I sorted the designs first by color, then by heel height, and I finally grouped them into themes. I saw a disco theme, a definite beach vibe, one I thought of as cosmic, and my favorite pin-up style. There were a few odd ones that didn’t fit a theme, so I put those at the bottom of the stack. We have dozens of designers and they all bring their favorites to me to pass on to Keith since I’m his personal assistant. One of the few, I should add. He has a couple ladies all waiting to do his bidding.

Now, I’m waiting for my best friend, Melissa, to come meet me for lunch. She’s a secretary at Keith Commons and works in a cubicle the next row over. I can’t wait to get Melissa’s opinion on my new dress. Like I said, pin-up style is my favorite and I went all out this morning. I usually wear fuller skirts to minimize my hips but today I braved a form-fitting number.

I fell in love with this red wiggle dress with capped sleeves the moment I saw it. It has tiny black polka dots and cut-outs in both the back and front. The back comes together with two cute buttons right where my bra snaps and leaves a diamond-shaped cut-out at my lower back. The front is boat-necked with a scalloped sweetheart neckline. It really hugs my curves and I totally get why it’s called a wiggle dress; I certainly can’t take long strides while wearing it!

I see Melissa stand up from her desk, her blonde curls bouncing as she laughs at something Savannah in the cubicle beside her said. Melissa is always laughing. She’s cute, perky, petite, and outgoing; pretty much everything I’m not. I majored in Communications to get over my shyness, but I still stumble sometimes in social situations. Meanwhile, Melissa has a magnetic personality and can talk to strangers like she’s known them her whole life. She comes over and smiles at me.

Sweet Jesus, girl. You look smoking hot. Stand up and do a turn. I want the 360 view of that dress.

I blush self-consciously but twirl for Melissa.

You don’t think it’s too much? Too tight around my hips? I ask, knowing even if it was, she wouldn’t tell me.

That’s just the right amount of curve-hugging. My flat ass could never pull off a dress like that. Speaking of flat asses, did you hear that Susan, in design, is getting a divorce?

I blink, surprised.

No way! She and her husband were all over each other at the Christmas party.

Yeah, um, but that guy wasn’t her husband.

My jaw drops.

Yikes, I had no idea.

Melissa shrugs.

I heard she was the one who filed for the divorce. Word on the street is she’s looking to hook up with Mr. Commons. She wants to lead her own design team and thinks that sleeping with the boss is the way to do it. But she’s pushing forty, and that’s over-the-hill for Keith.

Melissa loves to gossip and when she says ‘word on the street,’ you know she has a dubious source of information. But she means no harm. The gossiping is just between the two of us, and I really don’t engage in small talk with many people in the office. Our rumor mill has just a two- person crew.

Speak of the devil, Melissa whispers. Oh my god.

I glance around, looking for Susan.

Susan already brought me her designs for the summer line, so I don’t know why she’d be up here, I say in a puzzled voice.

Melissa averts her gaze and tries to look busy.

Not that devil, she hisses under her breath. Lucifer himself, with his jet black hair and those eyes that could make me agree to anything. Have you ever seen eyes that shade of blue? I can’t believe you get to work directly under that man.

At that moment, the billionaire owner of Keith Commons Shoes strolls toward us in his Armani suit.

Hello ladies, comes a low voice. Keith stops at my desk and flashes his billion-dollar smile. Kelsey, do you have those designs for me?

I snap out of the stupor induced by his blinding beauty and pull out the portfolio of drawings I assembled from his stable of designers. Oh. Yes. Here they are.

As I hand him the portfolio, his fingers brush mine and a sizzle of electricity travels from his hand to my core. I snatch my fist back with a bit of a flush. Oh my god, this is so embarrassing. Can he tell? Am I behaving like an idiot? Mr. Commons lingers a moment longer than necessary with a secret smile on his face, and I can feel my face get even more red. Like an idiot, I stammer, Um, is…is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Commons?

His lips quirk at the corner again.

No. Thank you, Kelsey.

But then I blurt, We’re headed out to lunch, that new Mediterranean place on the corner. Can I bring you something back?

I don’t know why I’m talking out of line when Jane always takes care of Keith’s lunch. I don’t even know what he likes. Please say no, I silently plead over and over in my head. But instead, he flashes that knowing grin at me again.

You know, that would be fabulous, Kelsey. Jane’s out today and I was afraid I’d have to fend for myself. Mediterranean would be perfect. Thanks for offering.

With a polite nod, my boss strides to the single elevator on the other side of the room. Meanwhile, I turn back to my desk, flustered and distracted. Did that just happen? As the elevator doors slide shut and Mr. Commons disappears, Melissa punches me in the arm.

Ouch. What was that for? I ask, rubbing the sore spot.

You lucky bitch!

What are you talking about?

You’re going to replace Jane as his personal assistant numero uno. If that happens, you’ll get to work side by side with that Greek God of a man every day. If I were you, I’d need to keep a stash of clean panties in my desk because just the smell of him sets my hormones ablaze.

My face reddens to a tomato shade.

"Oh. My. God. Melissa. He is our boss. You can’t talk about him like that. He’s very professional, and you have a boyfriend. You and Ron have been together since high school and he’s so sweet."

Melissa rolls her eyes.

Seriously Kels, how long have you known me? It’s not a big deal. I love Ron, but I’m not dead. I wouldn’t get mad if Ron talked about getting turned on working next to Charlize Theron.

But Ron doesn’t work with Charlize Theron. He’s an accountant, Mel.

She shrugs airily.

Superstars need accountants too.

I stare at her.

"He’s an accountant for an HVAC company. I highly doubt he would run into Charlize Theron.

Melissa rolls her eyes at me.

"That’s not the point, girlfriend. Have you seen Keith on the treadmill at the gym downstairs? The man is ripped. He runs something crazy like six miles every morning, and he doesn’t sweat, he sparkles like that stupid vampire you love. What’s his name, Edgar?"

"Edward from Twilight. Okay, okay, you got me. But are you trying to tell me I need to go to the gym?"

Melissa rolls her eyes again.

No, Kelsey. I would never do that. I was just fantasizing about our boss, so why would you think that? Anyways, let’s figure out what we are going to order for lunch. I heard it’s best to call ahead because that new place is so busy.

Suddenly, Mel shuts up and tries to look busy again. With a sixth sense, I know who’s coming, but it’s not Mr. Commons this time. My manager, Corrine Westwood is strolling in our general direction. I think she’s around forty but looks closer to thirty. She’s tall, I’d guess 5’10" without shoes and she always looks like she stepped out of Vogue. Today, my manager is wearing a deep green sheath dress that perfectly complements her sleek