Promoted to Wife? by Paula Roe

over? That would not go over well.
    Slow it down, mate. You don’t want to scare her off.
    He nodded, trying to ignore the growing desire warming his blood.
    â€œLet’s go.”
    Â 
    The opulent dozen-bedroom, two-story apartment was a Valhalla triumph. Zac’s signature—huge windows with intricate personalized frames and sconces that showcased the view—presented the expansive Broadbeach Waters in all its glory. Beyond the buzz of conversation, the sharply dressed and expensive-smelling people, the subtle ceiling lights and the strains of a Mozart concerto, the stunning sunset streaking across the sky commanded Emily’s attention.
    Red sky at night, sailor’s delight.
    She frowned at the childhood rhyme before glancing curiously at the assembled crowd.
    Men and women greeted each other, drank champagne and chatted animatedly. Here were the über-rich in serious socializing mode. Yet how could they not notice the glorious blue-red-navy spectacle of a Surfers sunset?
    She watched small waves lap up against Kerans’s luxury yacht tethered at the boat ramp, studying the cerulean water before she sensed someone approaching. Zac. Only he had the power to send her body tingling on high alert.
    She turned to him. “This is amazing, Zac. Another great job.”
    â€œThank you. Champagne?” He offered the cold stemmed glass. She took it with a smile, then sipped to cover her nervousness at his direct scrutiny.
    â€œIt’s—”
    â€œZac! You’re here! Hur mÃ¥r du? ”
    Delicious. The word died along with a tentative smile as a silky voice cut through the surrounding chatter. A tall, dark-haired woman stalked through the crowd, her black, sleeveless catsuit flaunting an extremely fit physique. Around her neckhung two silver chains, the handful of fashionable dangly charms chiming melodiously below a pair of impressive breasts, their curves revealed by a half-lowered zipper.
    Haylee Kerans, the client’s daughter. And—Emily’s grip tightened imperceptibly on her glass—one of Zac’s many ex-girlfriends who didn’t accept the words break up lightly.
    As Zac turned to greet Haylee, Emily stood there awkwardly, listening to them converse in melodious, singsong Swedish.
    Then Haylee linked her arm through his and swung her gaze to Emily.
    â€œKan du talar Svenska?”
    At Emily’s blank look, her smile seemed to take on a condescending smirk. “You can’t speak Swedish? Oh, you should. Such a musikal language—but then, Zac’s half Swede, so I’m biased.” Her striking face creased with deliberate thought. “I shall have to teach you…Emma, right?”
    â€œEmily,” Zac interjected. Emily didn’t miss the way he’d firmly extricated himself from Haylee’s grip.
    â€œOh.” Haylee’s eyes suddenly narrowed. “Zac’s gatekeeper. You field all his calls.”
    Emily blinked in surprise. What, it was her fault Zac was an expert on moving on? Irritation bubbled up but she quickly got a handle on it.
    â€œI’m Zac’s assistant,” she said calmly. “He directs, I do.”
    One of Haylee’s eyebrows went up as her gaze swept Emily from head to toe, a silent, insulting inspection that had her flushing. But before she could formulate any kind of comeback, Zac intervened.
    â€œAny idea where your father is?”
    The younger woman’s expression quickly transformed as she looked back to Zac, a perfect smile that looked a tad too bright to Emily’s thinking.
    â€œWhere he normally is.” Haylee nodded into the crowd. “Over near the bar, surrounded by his mates and talking business. Zac.” Haylee ran a teasing hand up his arm. “You should call me. We could go for a drive in that smaskig car of yours.”
    She leaned forward, proffering her cheek. As politenessdictated, Zac went in for the kiss, but at the last minute she turned