Chapter 2

Richard perused the stack of resumes from Stan, grumbling as he did so. Stan had been ready to send Richard an immediate replacement for his assistant, but Richard had been his usual stubborn llama self and demanded to have his choice in the matter. Why did I give myself an added stressful task? He thought. Especially since it looks like the one Stan recommended is, indeed, the best choice.

He sighed and pushed the papers aside. The last thing he wanted to do was replace Quinn, but the man had been promoted and moved on past being Richard's assistant. Shame, really. Not a shame that Quinn had been promoted—the guy deserved it—but Quinn had been one of the best assistants Richard had ever had. The man knew not to take Richard's shit, and it was rare to find someone who could put up with Richard's ever-changing moods. What could he say? He'd always been a bit of a drama llama, especially before his coffee in the morning.

Of course, Quinn had been more than an assistant. Richard had taken to him—imprinted on him, which was something that happened in his type of llama. For them, it could be similar to adoption. Richard's llama wanted to protect Quinn at all costs. It also meant Richard cared for him. Unfortunately, Richard hadn't been the best at expressing this, and instead of being the kind of mentor Quinn deserved, he'd been, well, a dick, overbearing, seeming to hold Quinn back from opportunities. Richard regretted that.

But he was happy that Quinn was flourishing now. Quinn had a promotion and a mate and was living a full life. Considering all the torture Zagan had put Quinn through, he certainly deserved a happily ever after. Richard's only problem with it was the fact that he needed to re-staff his office.

Richard sighed. The pile of resumes seemed a bit lackluster. He wondered how many people had decided not to apply for the position considering all the rumors of how difficult he was to work with. Sure, his ex, Carol, had given him the nickname Dick, but he deserved that since he wasn't exactly a prince while dating her. With his assistants, though, Richard never expected the nickname to stick and take on a life of its own!

Oh well, nothing he could do about that now. He just needed to pick someone new and hope for the best. All of the applicants in his pile were more than qualified to perform the tasks of an assistant, but he was hoping for someone with more years of experience under their belt. Most of these were in their first year post-FUCN'A training and still pretty young. The only standout was the one that Stan had offered to send to him right away: Amira Kendal. She was older than the others and had gained plenty of office experience before enrolling in the Academy.

Richard let out a groan. He hated admitting when he was wrong. Telling Stan that he'd been right and that he should have just accepted Amira when Stan suggested her, would be admitting that he was being a drama llama, yet again.

Oh, well. It was either that or end up with an inept new assistant. One who would screw up the reports and cause Richard to shout, which would then continue to solidify his reputation as a dick, nicknamed Dick.

Which was worse? Drama llama or Dick?

Richard picked up his phone to dial Stan's extension. Stan answered in less than one ring and immediately started talking.

"Listen, Richard, before you tell me that all the applicants are whatever it is you concocted in that brain of yours to explain away how unacceptable they are, let me tell you that you have to pick from the resume pool I provided you. You don't have a choice in this."

"Actually, Stan, I was calling to ask if Amira Kendal was on campus today. I'd like to schedule an interview with her after lunch."

"Amira Kendal?" Stan paused. "The one I originally suggested?"

Richard gritted his teeth, hating the smug tone of Stan's voice. "Yes. Amira, okay? You were right. She's the best candidate out of the stack of resumes you gave me."

"Of course I was right. I'm good at my job for a reason."

"Can she meet me today or not? I'd like to interview her before I make my final decision."

Richard heard a long pause at the other end of the phone before Stan spoke again. "She's in the office here with me. Do you want to wait until lunch, or should I send her now?"

"If she's got the time, sure. I'll meet with her now."

* * *

Knowing what had happened with Quinn, Richard tried to prepare his llama for the meeting with Amira.

We're not imprinting on our assistants anymore. This won't be some helpless waif that needs a big strong llama protector, okay? It was part of why he wanted an older assistant. He wanted someone who could take care of themself. One he didn't find himself imprinted on and subsequently coddling or, as Quinn had thought of it, being an overbearing dick.

So, while he was prepared to avoid imprinting on the woman who would walk through his door, he wasn't ready for a different kind of reaction to Amira Kendal. One that shot heat through his body the moment the woman stepped foot in his office with her gorgeous platinum-blonde locks, legs that went on for days, and a thousand-watt smile that lit up more than the room.

He sat there, stunned, while his heart pounded hard in his chest.

For her part, Amira didn't seem bothered by the cold welcome Richard knew he was offering.

"Hello, Mister Anderson, it's nice to meet you. I'm Amira Kendal," she said as she sauntered toward his desk with an outstretched hand.

Richard leaned forward to shake her hand then had to bite the inside of his lip as heat shot through his arm and right to his dick like a bottle rocket.

God, she's gorgeous!

He quickly snatched his hand away and motioned to the chair across from his desk. "Please, have a seat," he grumbled, already wondering what he was going to tell Stan to explain why this woman couldn't work for him.

Imprinting was one thing, but what he was feeling toward Amira? No. He couldn't even admit that to himself. It couldn't be true. This must just be a reaction to him not having gotten laid in a while. Would that fix the situation? Would going to the bar and finding a random woman to have a night in the sheets with stop him from ogling Amira?

It wasn't worth the risk. He couldn't hire someone like her. He'd get nothing done because all he'd do was stare at her all day, getting lost in those beautiful eyes. She was looking at him now with a smile, and he knew he hadn't listened to a word she'd said since she sat down. Her beauty made him crazy, and it was taking all of his strength to keep it together.

She stopped moving those plump, kissable lips, signifying she wanted a response from him. She lifted an eyebrow when he didn't answer.

"I'm sorry?" he asked.

"I was just explaining that I'm a little older than most of the cadet graduates, but I look at it as a benefit. I have years of experience working for large firms as a personal secretary in my other lifetime." She let out a nervous giggle before continuing. "I believe this position fits rather well with my wheelhouse. And I'm rather excited about working with you."

"Really?" She was excited? He wasn't sure how he should react to that. Excitement had him thinking about another thing: making her scream his name. Repeatedly. Those curvy hips of hers bent over his desk would be a beautiful sight, for sure. And fuck, now his dick was so hard he could probably crush diamonds with it.

Shit, what was wrong with him? He was known as Dick for his brusque demeanor, never for inappropriate behavior in the workplace. Even his relationship with Carol had been developed outside FUCN'A. This strange development of lewd thoughts toward a potential employee was something he'd never experienced before.

He tried hard to focus on her words as she continued. "I spoke with Quinn briefly before he left, and he told me about this position being open. He and I go way back, and we both have a similar work ethic. That's why I believe I'm the perfect candidate for the job."

"I agree." He should be listening to the woman, but all he was focused on was her lips, wondering how they'd be wrapped around his dick.

"Oh? You do?"

It was almost as if a genie was granting him a wish as her lips formed the most perfect O-shape, giving him the chance to imagine those turquoise eyes looking up at him beneath her thick lashes while she stroked his cock with her mouth.

Stop! He cursed at himself. If he couldn't get it together, he'd have to pass on her for his assistant, and that would bring all sorts of issues. Stan would be pissed and call him a drama llama for not being able to settle. He'd lose out on a candidate that seemed perfect for the job.

And his inner llama would punish him, because it demanded they spend more time around the beauty.

"Of course," he said, gritting his teeth to stay focused.

"That's a relief! I want you to know that I won't let you down, especially since Stan said that this is going to be a trial run."

"What?" Richard asked, confused. Stan hadn't informed him of any trial period. He didn't need a trial. He already knew everything about Amira was a perfect fit. He didn't care about her abilities to file paperwork or balance budgets. All he wanted was to taste those kissable bombshell-flushed pink lips. Would they taste like a combination of strawberries and champagne—two of his favorite things in the world?

Then it dawned on him: That bastard isn't letting me trial her. He's letting her trial me before she commits to working for Dick.

"I would be a temporary fill-in for the position at first," she repeated in her soothing, melodic voice. "I'll do what I can in the office for two weeks, but then I'm working a short-term security gig for Stan."

"But why not take this job permanently and then just take a leave of absence to do Stan's thing?"

She blinked, looking taken aback. She seemed reluctant to answer but finally admitted in a quiet voice, "I suppose there's a chance of promotion if all goes well with the mission. A small chance," she hastily added.

"Another assistant who just wants to move up the ranks," he grumbled. Was it so much to ask for someone who would want to be with him forever? Work with him, that was.

"If this is unacceptable, I understand?—"

He cut her off. "It's fine." It was all he could say. Even if his inner llama was threatening to throw a tantrum and insist that she work for him permanently.

"So, I've got the job?" A wide smile bloomed on her face. "That's fantastic, Mister Anderson. Thank you!"

He nodded. "When can you start?"

"Today! I've been doing busywork in Stan's office, and I was fully prepared to come here and start immediately if the interview went well and you wanted me."

He wanted her all right… He cleared his throat. "All right. Well, do you need me to show you around?"

"I think I'm good." She beamed. "Quinn already walked me around a bit and explained things. If you don't mind, I'd like to take another peek now, start to settle in, and let you know if I have any questions."

"That sounds fine."

With a bubbly nod of her head, she stood and walked out the door—almost as elegantly as she walked in. And damn him. He watched every second that ass swayed from side to side before she closed the door behind her.

Wait… Did I just agree to hire her?

No. No. No! This can't be happening!

Richard went into full panic mode. Amira seemed like a brilliant woman and most likely a capable employee, but how could he work with her? He was too damned attracted to her to even think straight during the interview, so how would he get any work done now that she was just a few feet away and in full view through his office door? Why they'd put windows on the door was beyond him, but they had! And now viewing her at her desk was a tantalizing torture.

No.

He had to find a way to transfer her to another department. Stan would be pissed, but it had to be done. Amira was too much of a beautiful distraction for him. He stood from his desk and charged out his door.

"Is there something you need?" Amira asked, having already settled at her desk.

"No," Richard grumbled. "I'll be right back."

The charge from his office to Stan's, which was only across the hall, wasn't enough time for him to cool his temper. He stomped his way through to Stan's office, not bothering to knock before he entered and slammed the door behind him.

Stan looked at him warily. "What's wrong with Amira?"

Richard paced in front of his desk. "It's not going to work out."

"Why are you telling me this? Why didn't you just send her back?"

"Because I told her she was hired."

Stan sat back in the chair, crossed his arms, and let out a long, steady breath. "You hired her, you're stuck with her. You can't expect me to accept that you want to fire her minutes after you hired her. What could she possibly have done in that time to deserve that?"

"I don't think she's cut out for my CRAP," Richard lied. He wouldn't live it down if Stan knew he'd said yes to hiring her without even hearing a word the woman said!

"Are you talking about your Campus Reports Accounting Pettycash or your drama-llama antics?"

Richard pressed his lips together and shook his head. He needed Amira out of his office, but he didn't want to disparage her credentials. He just also knew that Stan wasn't going to accept the reasoning that her legs were too long and gorgeous and Richard couldn't stop picturing her wrapping them around his waist.

Fuck.

It was now Richard's turn to let out a long breath. He'd hoped it would calm his nerves, especially since he kept thinking about Amira's cleavage peeking through her pristinely pressed white button-down. Why she had to have three buttons from the top of her blouse undone was beyond him.

"This is your TLC shit," Richard spat, finally sitting in the chair that faced Stan's desk.

"TLC shit?" Stan had the gall to look like he didn't know what Richard was talking about.

"Yeah, I've heard all about your matchmaking schemes. Stan the TLC—Tender-hearted Loving Caringbear." Richard wasn't the only one with a reputation around the Academy. Stan had one too. Richard hadn't given much credence to the idea that Stan had turned into some kind of resident matchmaker. He figured it was just a coincidence that four of Stan's agents had found their mates while on assignment. But now that Amira had walked in and his mind—and dick—was reacting to her as it never had any other woman, he figured there was just one person to blame: Stan.

Stan's nostrils flared, and he seemed to be about to object to the title, but then a realization hit. "You like her."

"I'm having inappropriate thoughts about her, yes," Richard admitted. It was embarrassing, but it seemed like the truth was going to be the only way out of this.

Stan took a moment to consider the situation. "This isn't like you. You're not known for… well, I mean, you're known for maybe being a bit chauvinistic but never in a sexual-harassment way."

"I resent being called chauvinistic," Richard countered. "I'm just old school. I think that predators and protectors belong on field missions and the little ones and prey should be in the office."

"Exactly. You're an overprotective jackass, but not?—"

"One to fall for my employees." Richard sighed. "Look, man, you gotta do something to get her out of my office. I don't know what it is about her."

"Fucking TLC," Stan muttered. "I swear I'm not doing any of this on purpose. At this point, it's more like a curse."

"So, you don't think it's my fault?" Richard asked, perking up. "I'm not just being a lusty old fool. It's actually your fault?"

"It doesn't matter whose fault it is," Stan growled, sounding a bit like his bear side. "The point is it's just a couple weeks, and she'll be gone. We'll figure something out between now and then. A different position for her so she doesn't have to return to your office. Sound good?"

"If I refuse?"

"Damn it, Richard. That's not an option. You know what your options are. Suck it up. Otherwise, you don't get a new assistant."

"Well, what would I do without an assistant?" Richard blustered. "I need someone to handle my CRAP. I don't have time to do my job and handle the administrative tasks."

"Then you better pull yourself together," Stan warned. "Alyce has allowed me to baby you"—Alyce being the Academy director and a fellow llama, which was probably why Richard got so much grace from her—"but you're on thin ice. Neither of us can afford for this to fail."

"Fine." Richard nodded and curled a corner of his lip. "I'll just make a plan to avoid her. Conduct our business through phone and email only." And get a cover for the window on my office door so I don't get distracted staring at her all day. It was the only way to avoid the way his cock twitched at the thought of taking her on his desk and having his way with her.

"Thatta boy," Stan said, looking relieved.

Richard stood. "I'm leaving for the day. If Amira has questions, you can help her figure it out."