Free Gold Diggers by Tasmina Perry Page A

Businessmen weren’t her usual type and this guy must be at least forty, but still … his eyes had the sexiest glint she had ever seen.
    ‘Ah, um, Mr Gold. Actually I was looking for you,’ said Erin awkwardly, ‘I have a message from your pilot.’
    He smiled so the corners of his eyes crinkled. ‘Nice work with the Russians, by the way. I thought you handled it brilliantly.’
    ‘And to think I thought my Russian degree was wasted serving drinks,’ she smiled.
    Adam paused for one moment, his eyes searching hers. Erin could feel her face begin to flush.
    ‘How do you like working for Karin?’ asked Adam.
    ‘It’s great,’ said Erin cautiously. ‘ Was great. It was only a temporary gig. Tomorrow’s my last day really.’
    Adam smiled that crinkle-eyed smile again, making Erin feel a little weak. ‘Oh, well, that’s convenient. I’d hate to poach anyone from the hostess.’
    Erin took a breath, but nothing would come.
    ‘You speak languages?’ he asked her.
    Erin nodded. ‘Russian, French, and a bit of Italian.’
    ‘Are you organized?’
    Erin barked out a laugh and spread her hands to indicate the party. ‘After this week, I should hope so!’
    ‘Listen, Erin, I need a PA. Mine came over from New York with me but she’s missing her family and wants to go home. Goddamn lightweight,’ he grumbled.
    Erin nodded in sympathy, which she immediately decided was a mistake.
    ‘So are you interested?’
    ‘But you don’t even know me,’ said Erin, totally gobsmacked.
    ‘How do you think I made the Forbes four hundred?’ he said bluntly.
    ‘Um, property?’ guessed Erin, wincing.
    ‘By trusting my instincts,’ he replied flatly.
    ‘So you’re offering me a job?’ she said, unable to stifle a small, incredulous laugh.
    ‘You’ve impressed me,’ he said, the eyes crinkling again.
    ‘I can’t type.’
    ‘I got that covered. You just have to do whatever I say,’ he said with a small smile. ‘Seriously, it’s running my diary, making travel arrangements, fielding calls. All sorts of shit I could be here all night describing. It’s long hours andhard work, but I pay well and you might see a little of the world.’
    ‘Pay?’ ventured Erin. She was the worst money negotiator ever, her boyfriend Richard always teased her about it.
    ‘How does seventy sound?’
    ‘A day?’ squeaked Erin weakly. It wasn’t that much more than she’d got behind the bar at the local pub in Exeter.
    ‘A year, Erin,’ said Adam. ‘Seventy thousand a year, plus my PAs usually get a car.’
    Erin stood looking at him for a moment, feeling as if she was going to burst out singing.
    ‘When do I start?’

6
    ‘Oh God, oh God, you’re too sexy! I’m not sure I can make it to the bedroom,’ panted Harry Levin, his tongue licking Molly’s neck like a hungry wolf. They had only just burst in through the front door and already Harry’s hand had plunged down Molly’s halterneck to grab at her hard brown nipples. His free hand was undoing the belt of his trousers and he had slipped off his shoes, rendering him at least three inches shorter. Insoles , sighed Molly, trying not to flinch as his teeth bit the tips of her breasts like a randy teenager.
    She had picked up her latest paramour – cosmetic surgeon to the stars, no less – at the end of the Stop Global Warming benefit, when it was so late that the waiters had begun stacking up tables. To Molly’s great annoyance, Adam Gold had left halfway through the jazz band’s set, before she had even had time to introduce herself. There hadn’t been a great number of other single men at the party, although she had counted four ex-lovers, all married, all with their wives and all who had chosen to ignore her. She didn’t want to waste the night, not when she looked so hot. Her Cavalli dress was cut so low at the back you could see the dark tip where her spine met her ass. So when Harry Levin was pointed out toher as Harley Street’s premier tit man, she knew