Brute & Bossy Preview

Having a baby with my billionaire boss? That certainly wasn"t in the job description when I agreed to be his pretend girlfriend.

Make a good first impression, they say, especially when you"re desperate for work.

How about when you walk into the interview for executive assistant at the Colchester Mountain Resort and you come face to face with the ridiculously gorgeous, infuriating brute you just accidentally knocked over on the slopes?

I should have walked out the second he called me BlunderBunny.

I shouldn"t have stared at his muscles underneath his impeccable suit.

And I should definitely have run the moment he made me almost beg for the job.

But when you have a mother with Alzheimer"s and unpayable medical bills, you"ll do your best not to hurl insults back at the one person who can help.

The Brute has me managing his full calendar of ski bunnies.

Now he needs to clean up his playboy reputation for the investors.

And lucky me got chosen to deceive the world he"s settled down.

So in public, we"re convincing everyone we"re madly in love.

In private, he"s determined to melt away my ice princess facade with every touch.

And with each hot night together, it seems I"m chipping away at his damaged, frozen heart.

But then two little pink lines turn our fake relationship into a very real dilemma.

I might be falling for the very man I vowed to resist.

And I can"t keep this baby bump a secret forever…

Chapter One

Raylene

What"s a city girl like me doing in the mountains?

The bright light of my phone couldn't compete with the way the sun reflected off the piles of snow outside the Colchester Mountain Resort bar's windows. I found myself having to shield my vision from the left, the side of me facing the window, and when my hand wasn't cutting it anymore, I positioned a menu between me and the glass.

My plan was simple enough—hang around the resort for a little while, learn the ins and outs, and take a skiing lesson. It wasn't necessarily in the budget, but if I managed to sell myself well in the interview and land the job, it wouldn't matter. I'd be making more than enough to cover this and Mom's expenses.

Glasses clinked, people mingled, and the fire raging in the massive fireplace popped and crackled as I read through every little page hidden on the Colchester Ski Resort's website. The name of the owner and CEO, Wade Colchester, had flashed up numerous times throughout my research. If I'd read the job description properly—and knowing me, I absolutely did—then he would be my direct boss. I'd be his assistant. Executive Assistant, at that. That would mean a lot of time spent here and likely wherever else he roamed.

So I needed to learn all that I could about the place but, more importantly, I needed to learn about him, connect with him, and make a good impression.

"Afternoon, ma'am."

My head snapped to the right. A twenty-something man stood at the edge of my table, a black dress shirt tucked into black slacks, a short apron tied around his waist, and at least twenty pens hanging on for dear life.

"Can I get anything started for you?"

Shit. I wasn't a guest, per se, so this wasn't exactly a hang-outspot. This isn't Starbucks, I reminded myself. I'd entirely forgotten that I'd need to order something. "Uh," I started, fumbling for the menu I'd stuck against the window. I turned it rapidly in my hands, eyes searching for the beverages section. "Do you have oat milk?"

"Yes ma'am." The man shifted on his feet, his blue eyes looking between me and the menu with speculation.

"What brand?"

"Silk."

I couldn't help the grunt of irritation that slipped from me. "Do you have any Oatly?"

"I don't believe so, ma'am."

"Fine. I'll just have an oat hot chocolate, not too hot but not lukewarm. No foam, no cream, no marshmallows," I sighed. I slid the menu toward him and he nodded. "Oh, and definitely no sprinkles unless you have cinnamon."

"Yes ma'am."

His apron fluttered as he spun, taking off toward the island in the center of the room where the espresso machine sat. I cursed myself for being so picky—it wasn't necessarily something I did on purpose. It was more of an impulse, but if he and everyone else who works here eventually became my coworkers and the people I'd be around frequently, I should get myself on good terms with them.

I sighed as I turned my attention back to my phone. Wade Colchester. I typed his name into the search bar for the third time, fooling myself into thinking I'd maybe, somehow, find more information on him. As far as I could tell, the only thing public online was his LinkedIn, but all that gave me was a photo of the resort I was currently sitting in as well as a few photos of trophies he'd won in the past.

I couldn't help but picture him in my head, though—this mystery man I'd meet tomorrow. Older, probably; maybe in his fifties or sixties considering he didn't post photos of himself online. Maybe he didn't know how and his previous assistant had to help him set up his online accounts.

I imagine him lounging back in his office, a fireplace as large as the one in here taking up half the space. A sizable oak desk, log-cabin walls, dim lighting. Scotch in hand. A generous window to watch people ski or fall down the mountain. Gray or graying hair, a bit of a belly, and a pair of bifocal, wireframe glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

I might as well put him in a red velvet suit with white fur trim.

"Your oat hot chocolate, not too hot, no foam, with cinnamon," the waiter chirped as he slid the mug across the table. "Do you need anything else?"

I picked up the spoon from the saucer, pushing the back of it through the top of the hot chocolate. "Do you know anything about the owner?" I asked, batting my eyelashes to the best of my ability as I looked up at him. Be friendly, Ray. Don't fucking flirt.

He laughed lightly. "Mr. Colchester? I haven't actually met him yet. I only started a few days ago."

I sighed and lifted the mug to my lips. "Shame."

————

Skiing has never been my cup of tea.

The instructor I'd hired for the day had done his absolute best with me on the bunny hill, but I think I ate more snow than I skied on. I knew no more than the absolute basics from the one time I'd had the nerve to do this before but honestly, I'd much rather be in a pair of ice skates than the uncomfortable boots I was strapped into.

"You're leaning too far back. Your center of gravity is getting all skewed," Alex snapped.

No shit. Why did I hire you? "I'm doing what my body tells me to."

His ski kicked against mine as we rode the lift up to the top of one of the smaller slopes. Even with the bitter mountain air, my palms were sweating. I didn't want to do this, didn't want to have to potentially risk my life just to get to the bottom of this damn hill, but knowing at least some of what it took would be helpful.

"I feel like I should get every single shot updated after the amount of snow I've ingested today," I joked, trying to lighten the mood just a hair.

Alex laughed. "Yeah, probably. Tetanus, hepatitis… all of them. Oh, and don't forget rabies. Who knows how many animals piss on the slopes overnight."

I gagged just thinking about it. "Please, if I ever see you again, never say that."

"So are you here on vacation?" Alex asked, probably more out of courtesy than a real interest.

"I"m here to interview for the job as executive assistant to the CEO," I said, blowing hot air onto my gloves with the hope of defrosting my fingers.

"And so you thought you"d learn how to ski."

"Something like that," I replied.

The chair reached the top, and as my skis touched down onto the packed-in snow beneath, I struggled to get my footing. I dug my poles into the snow, pushing myself forward as Alex hurriedly rushed toward me. His brows were furrowed, his mouth taut. "Hurry up, Raylene. You're going to cause a pileup."

"I—" I snapped my mouth shut before the abuse that sat at the edge of my tongue could drip out. I didn't want to be an asshole to him, to anyone here for that matter, but more than that, I didn't want to look like a failure. Even if he'd seen me fall on my face all day.

He helped me over to the starting line, halfway down the bigger slope, and connecting like a Y. Not only did I need to make it to the bottom without dying, I needed to make sure I wasn't going to get t-boned by someone muchbetter than me. So basically anyone.

"You go down first. I'll watch," I offered, looking up at Alex with a smile that I absolutely did not mean.

"Not how it works," he laughed, his graying beard flying in the wind. "You go down first. That way if you fall and hurt yourself, which I'm half expecting at this point, I can ski down to you." Ouch. "You've got this, Ray."

I definitely didn't.

I looked up the hill, waiting for a break in the skiers coming down, and when I was well and truly in the clear, I sucked in my breath. I can do this.

Looked down the hill. So steep.

Dug my poles in. I'm going to die.

Aimed my skis. Someone, please take care of Mom.

Pushed off. I'm so fucked.

If my sheer lack of direction and ability to stay upright didn't warn everyone around me that I was not good at this, the scream that ripped from my throat definitely did.

Learning how to ski is so much harder than learning to skate. Skating had come naturally to me—just an easy extension of my own feet. But this, this was like I was wearing clown shoes and trying to walk a tightrope. I had zero control, but I knew I needed to at least lean forward — Alex hadn't stopped hammering that in. So that's what I did.

Too fast. Way too fast, way too careless. Trees zoomed past before I could even make out their shape. I passed people much better than me, yelling out, waving their arms. Even with my goggles, the glare of the sun off the snow made it hard to tell where I was going.

Lean back, my body screamed at me. Or maybe that was someone on the slope. I couldn't tell.

A group of what looked like a blurry mess of people were in front of me, and I was rapidly approaching them. I couldn't turn, didn't know how without falling, and as the shouts and yelps got louder, I did the only thing I could think of—dig my poles into the snow.

I promptly lost them.

Before I could blink I slammed to a stop, hitting something far too hard and warm to be snow. A grunt, not from my own mouth. A loud clunk against my helmet, a snap that made me cry out because oh my god is that my leg?

I peeled my eyes open, adrenaline shooting through my veins like a fire. Terror filled me to the brim as I looked down at the snow, tiny droplets of blood tainting the pristine white. I didn't feel injured. Maybe I was and the adrenaline was keeping me from noticing.

"Are you okay?"

I turned to my left, my goggled eyes colliding with a far too attractive man on his knees. I couldn't see much of his tanned face because of the helmet and goggles, but I liked what I was seeing from his neck down. All hard lines and muscles. One of his poles sat beside him, broken in half. That must have been the snap. "I…" I breathed, blinking through the haze of confusion as I pushed my goggles up to my forehead. I looked down at my body, everything still in one piece, and thanked my lucky stars. The red in the snow below me drew my attention back. "Blood?"

"Your nose. It looks fine, I don't think it's broken," he sighed. He unlatched his boots from his skis as I stared aimlessly at him, far too in shock to do anything else. "You should really watch where you're going."

I narrowed my gaze at him, the muscles around my nose screaming in agony from my newfound source of pain. "And you shouldn't hang out at the bottom of a slope."

He grunted as he stood, brushing the excess snow off his bibs. "You do realize you're staring at me, don't you?"

"I'm not staring at you, you brute."

"Oh? Is the tree line behind me just far too interesting to take your eyes off of? Should I be worried a bear is about to maul me?"

"No, but I'm pretty sure a bear would steer clear of you anyway. Don't think their jaws open wide enough to fit your massive fucking ego inside of them."

He shook his head as he picked up his broken pole and skis from the snow. "Fucking ski bunnies," he muttered, his fingers angrily wrapping around the strap of his helmet and tugging it loose. He pulled it back over his head, taking his goggles with it, and fuck my first assumption was right. Far too attractive. Ash blond hair toppled down in a mess from his helmet and, even though he wasn"t smiling, he had the sexiest dimples on either side of his full-lipped mouth. "Or should I call you a blunderbunny?"

"You're a dick," I snapped.

"The lengths some of you go to, I swear?—"

"Ray! You good?"

I turned, my blinded eyes barely making out the form of Alex abruptly stopping in his descent, snow billowing out from his sideways skis. I wiped my nose with the back of my hand then wiped the blood on my rented bibs. "Yeah, fine."

"Eat any more snow?"

"Nah, just filled my nose with it." I turned over my shoulder, expecting to lock eyes with the obnoxiously attractive man who apparently seemed to hate me, but found him walking back into the building instead. I sighed. "Y'know, it's a good thing that skiing isn't a prerequisite for the job I"ll be interviewing for."

Alex paused, his words failing, and fell into a fit of chuckles. His grin turned sly, almost mocking. "You do know who that was, don"t you?"