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Elizabeth Kelly Books

The Contract (EBOOK)

The Contract (EBOOK)

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How far will she go to keep his secret?

I'm not Liam Knight's type.  Not that it matters.  I’m his PA, and sleeping with your boss is the quickest road to unemployment.  ​

Still, I can’t seem to control my lust for him.  And now that I’ve stumbled on to his dirty, little secret, my lust has become a fiery, irresistible burn. 

He’s offering me a contract to keep his secret. 

A contract that will bring my wildest fantasies to life…



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Read an excerpt

I stretched and yawned tiredly. It was after eight, and I was more than ready to go home. A switch seemed to have flipped in Liam Knight’s brain, and I had spent the last four days working my considerable ass off for the man.

I sighed wearily. The man was a goddamn machine when it came to work. I quickly realized that he worked crazy hours, and as his PA, I was expected to work the same hours. I hadn’t been home before seven in the last four days. From the look of his calendar, that wasn’t about to change any time soon. I shut down my computer and listened intently. I was pretty sure Mr. Knight had left his office. Now was the time to sneak out before he found just one more file for me to work on.

I gathered my purse, slung my coat over my arm, and walked quickly toward my office door. Steps from the doorway, the heel of my shoe gave out, and my ankle turned. Screeching, I pin wheeled my arms madly to stop from falling. It didn’t work. I hit the ground with a thud that shook the pictures on the walls. I cursed loudly as my head banged off the doorframe. I lay in the open doorway, my head throbbing and my ankle screaming at me. Tears threatened, and I blinked them back fiercely as I sat up and reached down to rub at my ankle.

“Fuck!” My ankle was already swelling and throbbing with a sick kind of pain, but I was more horrified by my shoe. They were my only pair of heels, and I stared miserably at the left one. The heel had snapped off and dangled limply by a few threads. I pulled off my shoe and cursed again.

I rubbed my head where I had banged it against the doorframe and sniffed. The tears I was holding back were starting to drip down my face, and I shrieked in surprise when Mr. Knight crouched beside me.

He flinched and rubbed at his left ear. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t deafen me, Ms. Temple.”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t sneak up on me!” I said.

“Why are you sitting on the floor?”

“Oh, you know, I was tired and thought I’d take a quick five-minute nap.” I rolled my eyes. “I fell and twisted my ankle. Maybe I should be applying for WCB.”

He had snagged my broken shoe and was examining it carefully. “Or stop buying cheap shoes.”

I flushed and gave him a dirty look before holding out my hand. “Help me up.”

He stood and, ignoring my outstretched hand, hooked his hands into my armpits and lifted me easily to my feet. My pulse sped up as he looked me up and down. I flushed when I realized that my skirt was rucked up so high my control-top underwear was nearly showing. I shoved the skirt down to hide my chunky thighs from his gaze and straightened my top.

“Can you walk?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said.

I took a step, my ankle rolled, and I would have fallen again if Mr. Knight hadn’t caught me neatly. Sighing with annoyance, he lifted me into his arms and carried me to my chair. He set me in it and knelt at my feet, examining my ankle. I hissed with pain when he poked at it, and he looked up at me.

“Did that hurt?”

“Yes!” I scowled.

He continued to poke and prod at my ankle. If it hadn’t hurt so much, I would have laughed. Earlier, I fantasized about having my boss kneel at my feet, and now he was doing exactly that.

Of course, I had pictured me wearing sexy lingerie and him wearing nothing at all, but a girl couldn’t have everything she wanted. I let my eyes drift over him. Even though it was eight at night, the man hadn’t even loosened his tie. I was both impressed and envious of his ability to look so damn good after nearly twelve hours in the suit.

I realized he was looking up at me, and I flushed again. “What?”

“Are you crying?”

I quickly wiped the tell-tale moisture off my cheeks with the heel of my hand. “No.”

“I believe we had a deal about you crying in your office, Ms. Temple.”

“It doesn’t count when a broken ankle causes it,” I argued.

He suddenly grinned at me, and I nearly slid off my chair. My boss was hard to resist when he walked around with a perma scowl. He was downright dangerous when he smiled.

My underwear suddenly felt too tight, and my bra chafed my hardened nipples. I straightened in my chair and gave myself a pep talk.

Keep it in your pants, Mae. Your underwear is always this tight. It’s supposed to be, remember? They wouldn’t call it control-top if it didn’t keep everything sucked in.

“Fair enough, Ms. Temple.” His gaze returned to my foot, and he absentmindedly started to rub the bottom of it. I couldn’t hold back my moan of approval. After twelve hours, my feet were killing me in my cheap heels, and his long fingers felt amazing.

Without looking at me, he rubbed my foot and said, “I don’t think it’s broken. It’s swelling, but I’m pretty sure you just sprained it.”

He was holding my nylon-clad foot, his fingers rubbing and pressing against the bottom of my heel and without thinking, I blurted out, “Higher.”

He slid his fingers to my instep obediently and rubbed firmly. I gave another groan of approval as he shifted slightly. Still looking at my foot, he moved his hand higher. He rubbed and pulled on my toes through the nylon with his right hand as his left continued to massage my insole.

I sighed with pleasure and barely heard him when he said, “Are you finished your work for the day, Ms. Temple?”

I fought the urge to run my fingers through his thick, dark hair. “Yes.”

He stopped rubbing my foot, stood, and quickly turned away. I decided my overactive imagination only made it look like the front of his pants was tented.

“I’ll help you to your car. Just give me a minute to shut down my computer.” He left the room. I stood and gingerly put some weight on my injured foot. It sent pain shooting through my leg, and I cursed and lifted my foot.
I stood there patiently until he returned. He eyed my raised foot. “Can you walk at all?”

“Yes,” I lied.

He grabbed my purse and coat from the floor and helped me into the jacket. I clutched my purse in one hand as he stood beside me and bent slightly.

“Put your arm around my shoulders.”

I hooked my arm around his broad shoulders. Even with him bending, I had to stand on my tiptoes. I knew I looked absolutely ridiculous, balancing on one foot with my other stuck up like a chubby stork.


I nodded grimly and forced myself to hobble forward. My hand squeezed his shoulder unconsciously, and a small whimper of pain slipped out from between my lips with every step I took.

He grunted with annoyance and then swept me up into his arms. I tapped him lightly on the back. “Put me down, please. I can walk.”

“It’ll take us forever to get to the parking lot. I want to get home and eat before midnight,” he said as he strode through his dark office and into the hallway.

“You can’t carry me the entire way to the parking lot,” I said.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m too heavy,” I protested. “I’ll be fired for sure when the office finds out you died of a heart attack carrying me to my car.”

He laughed, and I trembled at the feel of it rumbling through his broad chest.

“One - you’re not too heavy, and two – I work out for two hours every morning. My body is in incredible shape.”

“You know, I don’t care what the others in the office say – I don’t think you’re arrogant at all,” I said.

He laughed again, and my cheeks warmed at the sound.
“I work hard to maintain my body. There’s nothing wrong with being proud of that fact.”

By now, we were in the elevator, and I reached out and pushed the lobby button. I expected him to set me down, but he only shifted me in his arms and leaned against the elevator wall. We spent the short ride in silence. He was staring at the elevator doors with a bored look on his face, and I was using every bit of willpower I possessed not to bend my head and lick his throat like a cat.

As he strode through the lobby, he nodded to the security guard behind the desk. “Good night, Jim.”
“Have a good evening, Mr. Knight.” Bless his heart, Jim didn’t raise an eyebrow at the sight of me, wearing only one shoe, being carried out into the darkness by one of the most influential lawyers in the city.

I waved at Jim over Mr. Knight’s shoulder, and he nodded slightly. Maybe my boss always carried women out of the building, and that’s why Jim didn’t seem that surprised. Frankly, I wouldn’t be shocked if he did. He had the alpha male thing down to a science. I swallowed thickly and reminded myself I didn’t care for the caveman type.

Mr. Knight paused in the parking lot to scan the nearly empty lot and then carried me directly to my car. I tamped down my embarrassment as he set me down gently next to my old and rusted Honda.

“How did you know this was my car?” I asked.

“Is this piece of junk even going to start?” he said.

“Yes,” I bristled. “Just because I don’t drive a fancy sports car doesn’t mean my car is a piece of junk.”

“You’re right, I apologize. Your car isn’t a piece of junk. It’s a walking death trap.” He squinted at the lemon-yellow duct tape holding a piece of the front bumper firmly in place. “Is that… duct tape?”

I fished my keys out of my bag and quickly unlocked the door. Still holding up my foot, I opened the door. “Thank you very much, Mr. Knight. I appreciate your help. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He stared into my car's interior and cursed before grabbing my arm. “You drive a stick.”

“Nothing gets past you, does it?”

He ignored my snarky comment. “How will you push the clutch in?”

I shrugged. “I’ll manage.”

He shook his head. “No, you won’t.”

Before I could protest, he slammed my car door shut and picked me up again. His shoes clicked on the hard pavement as he carried me toward his car.

“What are you doing?”

“I’ll give you a ride home.”

“How am I supposed to get to work in the morning if my car is sitting here in the parking lot?” I said.

“Take a cab and expense it. I’ll approve the expense form,” he replied dismissively.

I sighed inwardly. I lived nearly forty-five minutes from the office. With rush hour traffic, taking a cab would be at least forty bucks. Unfortunately, I had precisely twenty-three dollars in my bank account until payday, and my credit card was maxed from paying my student loan payment with it.

I wasn’t about to tell my boss that, though, not when he was currently sliding me into a car that cost more than four of my cars combined.

“You drive a Jaguar. Shocking.”

He grinned, and I pushed down the little shiver that went through me when the back of his hand brushed my breast as he clicked my seatbelt into place.

“Listen, Mr. Knight, it’s late, and I know you’re anxious to get home. Why don’t you drop me off at the train station? I live pretty far from the office.”

He shook his head as he climbed into the driver’s seat and started the car. “I don’t mind, and call me Liam.”

I licked my lips. With the way I was lusting after him, calling him Liam seemed far too intimate for me. It was safer to stick to Mr. Knight.

“Which way to your house, Mae?” He raised his eyebrow at me. I ignored the liquid pool of desire that grew in my belly at the sound of my given name crossing those gorgeous lips of his.

“Take your first left,” I said. I stared into the darkness as he navigated the car through the streets. I wasn’t looking forward to having my boss see my dingy apartment building in the bad part of town, but there didn’t seem to be much I could do about it.

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