EASY LOVE
BOOK ONE IN THE BOUDREAUX SERIES
Kristen Proby
Copyright © 2015 by Kristen Proby
Cover Art:
Photography by: Kristen Proby
Models: Joe Lewendowski and Jade Reilly
Cover Design: Okay Creations
All Rights Reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the property of the author and your support and respect is appreciated. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Other Books by Kristen Proby:
The With Me In Seattle Series:
Come Away With Me and on audio
Under the Mistletoe With Me and on audio
Fight With Me and on audio
Play With Me and on audio
Rock With Me and on audio
Safe With Me and on audio
Tied With Me and on audio
Breathe With Me and on audio
Forever With Me and on audio
Easy With You
Love Under the Big Sky Series, available through Pocket Books:
Loving Cara, UK, AU
Seducing Lauren
Falling for Jillian
Baby, It’s Cold Outside
An Anthology with Jennifer Probst, Emma Chase, Kristen Proby, Melody Anne and Kate Meader
This book is dedicated to K.P. Simmon. Because you’re not just the best publicist in the history of publicists, you’re also my best friend. You have my back, and I have yours.
Also, Eli loves you, too.
Prologue
Eli
“You work too hard.” The voice comes from behind me. I’m standing behind my desk, gazing out over the French Quarter and the Mississippi River from my fifty-fourth floor office windows in New Orleans. The sun is blazing already. It’s only eight in the morning, but it’s a stifling eighty-six humid-filled degrees out there, much hotter than the cool comfort of my office.
It seems all I do is watch the world from this office window.
And where the fuck did that thought come from?
“Earth to Eli,” Savannah says dryly from behind me.
“I heard you.” I shove my hands in my pockets, fingering the silver half-dollar that my father gave me when I took this position, and turn to find my sister standing before my desk in her usual crisp suit, blue today, her thick dark hair pinned up and worry in her hazel gaze. “And, hello, pot, I’m kettle.”
“You’re tired.”
“I’m fine.” She narrows her eyes at me and takes a deep breath, making my lips twitch into a half smile. I love getting her riled up.
It’s ridiculously easy.
“Did you even go home last night?”
“I don’t have time for this, Van.” I lower into my chair and motion for her to do the same, which she does after shoving a banana under my nose.
“But you have time to stare out the window?”
“Are you trying to pick a fight today? Because I’ll oblige you, but first tell me what the fuck we’re fighting about.” I peel the banana and take a bite, realizing that I’m starving.
Savannah blows out a deep breath and shakes her head, while mumbling something about pigheaded men.
I smile brightly now.
“Lance giving you problems?” My hands flex in and out of fists at the idea of finally laying that fucker flat. Savannah’s husband is not one of my favorite people.
“No.” Her cheeks redden, but she won’t look me in the eye.
“Van.”
“Oh, good, you’re both here,” Beau says, as he marches into my office, shuts the door behind him, takes the seat next to Savannah, steals my half-eaten banana out of my hand, and proceeds to eat the rest of it in two bites.
“That was mine.” My stomach gives a low growl, not satisfied in the least, and I give a brief thought to asking my assistant to run out for beignets.
“God, you’re a baby,” Beau replies, and tosses the peel in the garbage. My older brother is taller than my six-foot-four by one inch and as lean as he was in high school. But I can still take him.
“Why the fuck are you two in my office?” I sit back and run my hand over my mouth. “I’m quite sure you both have plenty to do.”
“Maybe we missed you,” Savannah says with a fake grin and bats her eyelashes at me.
“You’re a smart ass.”
She just nods knowingly, but then she and Beau exchange a look that has the hairs on the back of my neck standing up.
“What’s going on?”
“Someone is stealing from us.” Beau tosses a file full of spreadsheets in my direction. His jaw ticks as I open it and see columns of numbers.
“Where?”
“That’s what we don’t know,” Savannah adds quietly, but her voice is full of steel. “Whoever’s doing it is hiding it well.”
“How did you find it?”
“By accident, actually,” she replies crisply, all business now. “We know it has to be happening in accounting, but it’s buried so deep that the who and how is a mystery.”
“Fire the whole department and start over.” I shut the file and lean back, just as Beau laughs.
“We can’t fire more than forty people, most of whom are innocent, Eli. It doesn’t work like that.”
“There has to be a paper trail,” I begin, but Savannah cuts me off with a shake of her head.
“We’re paperless, remember?”
“Oh, yeah, saving the fucking trees. Are you telling me that no one knows what the fuck is going on?”
“It’s not a huge amount of money, but it’s big enough to piss me off,” Beau says quietly.
“How much?”
“Just over one hundred G’s. That we’ve found so far.”
“Yeah, that’s enough to piss me off too. They’re not just stealing post-its out of the supply closet.”
“And it’s not predictable. If it was a regular amount, on a routine, we could find it no problem. But I don’t want to cause mass hysteria in the company. I don’t want everyone to think that we’re looking over all of their shoulders every damn minute.”
“Someone is stealing, and you’re worried about the employees’ feelings?” I ask with a raised brow. “Who the fuck are you?”
“He’s right,” Savannah adds. “Having the co-CEOs of the company on everyone’s asses isn’t good for morale.”
“What about having the CFO do it?” I ask, referring to Savannah, who shakes her head and laughs.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“So, we just sit back and let whoever the fucker is use us as his own private ATM?”
“Nope.” Savannah smiles brightly, her pretty face lighting up. “I want to bring Kate O’Shaughnessy in.”
“Your college friend?” I glance at Beau, who has no expression on his face whatsoever. Typical.
“This is what she does for a living.”
“She looks over people’s shoulders for a living? She must be everyone’s favorite person.”
“You’re on a roll today,” Beau says quietly.
“Kate works with companies who are dealing with embezzlement. She comes in as a regular employee and blends in, investigating on the down-low.”
“Can she actually do the job? It won’t work if she doesn’t know what she’s doing.”
“She has an MBA, Eli. But I want to put her in as an administrative assistant. They see and know everything, and they talk to each other. She’s likable.”
“Okay, wo
rks for me.” I glance at Beau. “You?”
“I think it’s the way to go,” he agrees. “None of us have time to do it ourselves, and I don’t trust handing this off to anyone else. Like Van said, people talk. I’d like to keep this quiet. Kate will sign all the necessary non-disclosure agreements, and from what I’ve heard, she’s excellent at her job.”
“One thing,” Van says, and leans forward to stare at me, the way she does when I’m about to be in deep trouble. “You’re not allowed to mess around with her.”
“I’m not an asshole, Van…”
“No, you’re not allowed to get your man-whore hands on her.”
“Hey! I am not—”
“Yeah, you are,” Beau says with a grin.
I sigh and roll my shoulders. “Not having the same date twice doesn’t make me a whore.”
Van simply raises a brow. “Leave her be.”
“I’m a professional, Van. I don’t sleep with the employees.”
“Is that what you said to that assistant that sued us a few years back?”
“Anymore.”
“God.” Van shakes her head as Beau laughs. “She’s a nice woman, Eli.”
Instead of replying, I simply narrow my eyes at my sister and swivel in my chair. Kate’s a grown woman; one I’m most likely not attracted to anyway.
It’s been a few years since much of anything has held my interest for long. That would require feeling something.
“Call her.”
Chapter One
Kate
“Hello?” I ask breathlessly, as the cab I’m in whizzes down the interstate, heading directly for the heart of New Orleans.
“Where are you?” Savannah asks with a smile in her voice.
“In the cab on the way from the airport. Are you sure I shouldn’t check into a hotel room?”
“No way, Bayou Industries owns a beautiful loft that we’ll pretend you’re renting while you’re here. Come directly to the office. I have a meeting, so I won’t be able to greet you, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I reply and bite my lip as the cabbie cuts off another motorist and my stomach rolls. “I’m hoping to make it alive. I might not survive the cab ride.”
Savannah chuckles in my ear, and then I hear her murmuring to someone else in her office. “I have to go. Eli will meet you.”
“Eli? I thought I’d meet with Beau—”
“Eli’s not as scary as we’ve all led you to believe. I promise.” And then she’s gone. The cab swerves again, and I send up a prayer of thanks that I didn’t eat breakfast this morning as I use my hand to fan my face.
It’s darn hot in the Big Easy.
During all the years I went to college with Savannah and her twin brother, Declan, I never did make it down here to visit them, and I can’t wait to explore the French Quarter, eat beignets, have my tarot cards read, and soak it all in.
Of course, I’d rather soak it all in while not wearing so many clothes. Who knew it would be so hot in May? I shimmy out of my suit jacket, fold the sleeves over so they don’t wrinkle, and watch as above ground cemeteries, old buildings, and lots of people zoom by.
Eli is the one Boudreaux sibling I’ve never met. I’ve seen photos of the handsome brother, and heard many stories about his stoic, tough, playboy ways. Van says the stories are exaggerated. I guess I’ll find out for myself.
Well, not the playboy part. That’s just none of my business.
Finally, we come to an abrupt stop. There’s a red cable-car on one side and mountains of concrete on the other. I stumble out into the hot Monday afternoon, and sweat immediately beads on my forehead.
It’s not just hot. It’s sticky.
But I smile despite the discomfort, tip the reckless cabbie, and roll my suitcase behind me into the blessedly cool building, where a woman sits behind a long, ornate desk, typing furiously on a computer while speaking on the phone.
“Mr. Boudreaux is unavailable at this time, but I’ll put you through to his assistant, one moment.” She quickly pushes a series of keys, then smiles up at me.
She’s very smiley.
“I’m Kate O’Shaughnessy.”
“Welcome, Ms. O’Shaughnessy,” she says, holding that smile in place. “Mr. Boudreaux is expecting you.” She types furiously and begins speaking into her phone again. “Hello, Miss Carter, Ms. O’Shaughnessy is here for Mr. Boudreaux. Yes, ma’am.” She clicks off efficiently. “Please have a seat. Can I get you some water?”
“No, thank you.”
Miss Efficient simply nods and returns to her ringing phones. Before I have a chance to sit, a tall woman in black slacks and a red sleeveless blouse walks out of the elevator and straight to me.
“Ms. O’Shaughnessy?”
“Kate, please.”
“Hello, Kate. Mr. Boudreaux is in his office. Follow me.” She smiles and offers to take my suitcase, but I shake my head and follow her into the elevator. She doesn’t ask me any questions, and I’m thankful. I’ve learned to lie well in this business, but I don’t know what she’s already been told. I’m led past an office area and into the largest office I’ve ever seen. The massive black desk sits before a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows. The furniture is big and expensive. Comfortable. There are two doors, each on opposite sides of the room, and I can’t help but wonder what they lead to.
“Ms. O’Shaughnessy is here, sir.”
“Kate,” I add without thinking, and then any hope of being able to think at all is tossed right out of those spectacular windows, when the tall man standing before them turns to look at me. The photos didn’t do him justice.
Yum.
The door closes behind me and I take a deep breath and walk toward him, hiding the fact that my knees have officially turned to mush.
“Kate,” I repeat, and hold my hand out to shake his over his desk. His lips twitch as he watches me, his whiskey-colored eyes sharp and assessing as they take a slow stroll down my body, then back up to my face. Jeez, he’s taller than I expected. And broader. And he wears a suit like he was born to it.
Which, I suppose he was. Bayou Enterprises has been around for five generations, and Eli Boudreaux is the sharpest CEO it’s seen in years.
He moves around his desk and takes my hand in his, but rather than shake it, he raises it to his lips and places a soft kiss on my knuckles.
“Pleasure,” he says in a slow New Orleans drawl. Dear God, I might explode right here. “I’m Eli.”
“I know.” He raises a brow in question. “I’ve seen photos over the years.”
He nods once, but doesn’t let go. His thumb is circling softly over the back of my hand, sending my body into a tailspin. My nipples have tightened, pressing against my white blouse, and now I wish with all my might that I hadn’t taken off my jacket.
“Please, have a seat,” he says, and motions to the black chair behind me. Rather than sit behind his desk, he sits in the chair next to mine and watches me with those amazing eyes of his.
A lock of dark hair has fallen over his forehead and my fingers itch to brush it back for him.
Calm the eff down, Mary Katherine. You’d think I’d never seen a hot man before.
Because I have.
Declan, the youngest of the Boudreaux brothers, is no slouch in the looks department, and he’s one of my best friends. But being near him never made my knees weak or made me yearn for a tall glass of ice water. Or a bed. Or to rip his clothes off his body.
Whoa.
“Did Savannah fill you in on what’s happening?” Eli asks calmly, his face revealing nothing. He crosses an ankle over the opposite knee and steeples his fingers, watching me.
“Yes, she and I have talked extensively, and she’s emailed me all of the new-hire paperwork, as well as the NDA’s, which I’ve printed and signed.” I pull the papers out of my briefcase and pass them to Eli. Our fingers brush, making my thighs clench, but he seems unaffected.
Typical. I don’t usually inspire hot lust from the opposite se
x. Especially not men who look like Eli. Which is fine, because he’s my boss and my best friends’ brother and I’m here to work.
I clear my throat and push my auburn hair behind my ear. With all of this humidity, it’s going to be a curly mess in no time.
“That’s a beautiful ring,” he says unexpectedly, nodding toward my right hand, still raised near my ear.
“Thank you.”
“Gift?”
He’s a man of few words.
“Yes, from my grandmother,” I reply, and tuck my hands in my lap. He simply nods once and glances down at the papers in his hand. He frowns and glances up at me, but before he can say anything, his office door swings open and Declan walks in with a wide smile on his handsome face.
“There’s my superstar.” I squeal and leap up and into his arms, and Dec squeezes me tight and turns a circle in the middle of the wide office. He finally sets me on my feet, cups my face in his hands, and kisses me square on the mouth, then hugs me again, more gently this time. “You okay?” he whispers in my ear.
“I’m great.” I gaze up into Dec’s sweet face and years of memories and emotion fall around me. Laughter and tears, love, sadness, affection. “It’s so good to see you.”
“Have you done anything fun since you got to town?”
“I almost lost my life in a cab,” I reply with a laugh. “I came straight here.”
“I’ll take you out tonight. Show you the French Quarter. I know this great restaurant—”
“That won’t be necessary,” Eli interrupts. His voice is calm. He’s standing now, his hands shoved in his pockets, his wide shoulders making the large office feel small. “You have a gig tonight,” he reminds Declan.
“I can take you out before.”
“Don’t worry about Kate this evening,” Eli replies, still perfectly calm, but his jaw ticks.
I feel like I’m watching a tennis match as my head swivels back and forth, watching them both with curiosity.
“You know what Savannah told you,” Declan says softly to Eli.