Trapped by The CEO (Forbidden Fantasies #47) Read Online S.E. Law

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Forbidden, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Forbidden Fantasies Series by S.E. Law
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Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
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But wow, this is exciting because Logan Henley owns Eat & Co. in Midtown, and I’ve heard it’s amazing. They specialize in New American fare, and to be honest, I’m not sure what that is. Is it gourmet mac and cheese? Fancy steaks with garlic fries? I honestly have no idea.

“Yes, I’d be happy to walk Mr. Henley’s dog,” I say in a quick voice. “Just let me know when.”

“Great,” Mariella says briskly. “If you’re available, I would like to schedule a time to meet to give you a key to Mr. Henley’s house. However, I do want to warn you that his dog, Newton, can be a handful. He’s very high energy.”

I frown.

“What kind of dog is it?”

“A Newfoundland,” Mariella replies. “Large, but very friendly.”

I sigh with relief.

“Oh, it’s no problem. Newfies are my specialty,” I say, although that’s not quite true because I don’t have a specialty yet. “I’ve always gotten along especially well with Newfies.”

Mariella sounds pleased.

“Well good because we’d also request that you administer his medication every day. It’s not a big deal. It’s just one pill that needs to be mixed in with his food. You can do that right?”

I nod.

“Yes, of course, I’m happy to. But what does Newton have?”

“Attention deficit disorder,” Mariella replies without hesitation. “He takes medication for it.”

I bite my lip, trying to stifle my laughter. Who knew dogs could have ADD? But okay, these are the lifestyles of the rich and famous.

“No problem,” I reply. “I’m great with animals, and actually, I have a college degree in zoology, so I’m very qualified to be a dog-walker. However, I’ll have to charge extra for the medication service,” I add.

“Done,” Mariella says smartly without even asking how much. “Can you meet me tomorrow at noon at Mr. Henley’s house? I’ll introduce you to Newton, and show you what needs to be done. Would that work?”

I nod.

“Yes definitely. I’ll be there.”

“Perfect,” Mariella says in a satisfied voice. “Let me just give you his address.”

Dutifully, I take down the address and her contact info before hanging up. Then, I grab my laptop and start googling Logan Henley like a maniac. Of course, I know he’s a handsome celebrity chef, but the confirmation is right before my eyes. There are tons of photos of him online, and of course, he’s drop-dead gorgeous. My new client has dark hair that absorbs light as well as eyes so blue they look like lasers. His jaw is strong and chiseled and it’s obvious Mr. Henley’s got a rock hard body beneath the fancy suit stretched across his broad shoulders. Add in the fact that he’s super rich, and he’s any woman’s dream.

But of course, a rich, handsome man like this isn’t going to be alone. Logan Henley’s got a bevy of women hanging off his arm in the pictures I dig up, and from the looks of it, they’re all different women too. Hmm. These ladies are model-quality with their Victoria’s Secret cascading locks and thin bodies. They’re the kind of woman that make everyone’s heads turn, and maybe that’s what he wants.

Exasperated, I shut my laptop with a thunk. What am I thinking? Of course, I’d love to get to know my gorgeous new neighbor, but who am I kidding? I’m just the plump girl next door who’s a failed escort, of all things, and I’ve literally been hired to hang out with his dog. I’m about as different from Logan Henley’s “usual type” as you can get, and unfortunately, that’s the way the cookie crumbles.

2

Emory

When Mariella said Newton was a little rowdy, I didn’t think she meant insane. But here I am, being dragged down the street by a Newfie so big that I’m being pulled off my toes with every step.

“Newton!” I call. “Heel, heel!”

Of course, Newton doesn’t listen. The big dog snuffles here and there, and then catches sight of a squirrel and lunges to the left. My arm’s practically being pulled out of its socket, and I put both hands on the leash so that I can use my body weight as a counterbalance.

God, how did this happen? I know I was warned, but still: Logan Henley’s dog is a huge, out of control Newfoundland weighing about a hundred and sixty pounds if I had to guess. I’ve been walking him for a week now, and he gets easily distracted by everything: squirrels, balls, cars, pedestrians, and especially Lolita, the poodle that Mrs. Carbone owns one street over. Don’t even get me started on Lolita.

But other than that, the job is pretty straightforward. Newton is a dog, after all. I walk him twice a day, in the mornings and again in the afternoons. Then, after our afternoon walks, I feed and water him, in addition to giving him his medication. To be honest, it’s not so bad. Despite being rambunctious, Newton is a great dog. He’s super friendly and lovable, and he’s really cute too, even if he’s just an overgrown puppy.


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