A Beauty Uncovered

A beastly boss is tamed in this Secrets of Eden book from Andrea Laurence…

CEO Brody Eden is a loner. The brooding billionaire has secrets that he refuses to unveil to anyone…until he meets his new assistant, Samantha Davis. She’s temptation personified, and she’s sitting right outside his door.

Samantha’s never met a man as guarded—and gorgeous—as Brody. She doesn’t want to fall for her boss, but there’s something about Brody…. Beneath his gruff manner, Sam senses tenderness—and an intense passion waiting to be unleashed. And she’ll make it her mission to enter his lair…and his bed.

Brody turned on his heel, ready to return to his office.

“Mr Eden?”

“Yes?” He stopped.

Samantha rounded her desk and approached him. His body tensed involuntarily as she came closer. She reached up to the scarred side of his face, causing his lungs to seize in his chest. What was she doing?

“Your shirt…” Her voice drifted to a stop.

He felt her fingertips gently brush the puckered skin along his neck before straightening his shirt collar. The innocent touch sent a jolt of heat through his body. It was so simple, so unplanned, and yet it was the first time a woman had touched his scars.

Without thinking, he brought his hand up to grasp hers. Sam gasped softly at his sudden movement, but she didn’t pull away when his fingers wrapped around her own. He was glad. He wasn’t ready to let go.

His every nerve lit up with awareness, and he was pretty certain she felt it, too. Her dark brown eyes were wide as she looked at him, her moist lips parted seductively and begging for his kiss.

Dear Reader,

While I was writing this book, the unthinkable happened. Nearly thirty people, mostly small children, were gunned down by a disturbed and dangerous man in Connecticut. Senseless violence happens more often than I would like to believe and I find myself at a loss about what to say or do when it does. This time, I was in the midst of writing a story about a man who’d survived his own brush with violence at the hands of his own father. It seemed like too much of a coincidence to ignore that Brody also grew up in Connecticut, less than fifty miles away from the site of the tragedy. So I decided to do something different this time.

At this point in the letter, I’m supposed to tell you all about how much you’ll love this book and the characters. And I hope you will. Brody’s story was the one I was the most excited to write and Sam is the perfect woman to draw him out of his self-imposed prison. But with everything that has happened, I’d like to tell you that this book is also about survival and perseverance. Brody lived through some terrible things in his childhood. Sam lost her mother suddenly and at a young age. I am sure that there would’ve been times when both characters thought the world was over and considered giving up. Life isn’t always easy, but you have to hang on. Things will get better. Brody and Sam didn’t give up, and in the end, they get their happy ending.

When this book comes out, it will be nearly a year after the Sandy Hook shooting. My thoughts are with the families as they face this grim anniversary and the holiday season without their loved ones. Things will never be the way they were. They will never get their children or wives or mothers back. I wish I could write a happy ending for them, too, but I can’t. I can only hope that, in time, things will get better for them.

Please take the time to hug the important people in your life and tell them how much you love them. Also, consider making a donation to a charity that helps abused or abandoned children. Your kindness may be the very thing that gives a child the hope they need to make it through another day.

If you enjoy Brody and Sam’s story, tell me by visiting my website at www.andrealaurence.com, like my fan page on Facebook, or follow me on Twitter.

Enjoy,

Andrea

A Beauty Uncovered

Andrea Laurence

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ANDREA LAURENCE is an award-winning contemporary romance author who has been a lover of books and writing stories since she learned to read. She always dreamed of seeing her work in print and is thrilled to be able to share her books with the world. A dedicated West Coast girl transplanted into the Deep South, she’s working on her own “happily ever after” with her boyfriend and five fur-babies. You can contact Andrea at her website: www.andrealaurence.com.

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To the Victims

of the Sandy Hook Elementary School Shooting—

This book is dedicated to the children who were lost,

the teachers and faculty who died to protect them,

and the families and students who will live with

this senseless tragedy for their whole lives.

My thoughts and prayers are with you.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Epilogue

Excerpt

One

“Confidentiality agreement?”

Samantha Davis frowned at her godmother. Agnes had been there for Sam her entire life. She trusted the older woman, who had stepped in as a mother figure when Sam was still in elementary school. And she was helping her get a job when Sam needed it the most. But even then, she didn’t like the sound of this.

Getting up to Agnes’s office had been a feat of its own. Sam was pretty certain there were fewer security measures at CIA headquarters.

What was she getting herself into?

Agnes shook her head and pushed the form across the desk to her. “It’s nothing to really worry about, honey. Mr. Eden is very particular about his privacy. That’s why there are so many restrictive measures to get up to this floor. No one in the building has access except me, Mr. Eden and the head of security. I’m the only one at the company that ever has any personal interaction with him. If you’re going to fill in while I’m on vacation, you will interact with him as well, so you’ll have to sign the agreement.”

An uneasy prickle ran up the length of Sam’s neck. Although she and Agnes were the only people in the room, she felt like she was being watched. Looking curiously around the modern, yet comfortably decorated office, she spied a tiny video camera watching her from the corner. There was a second camera on the opposite wall to capture another angle of the room. Who needed surveillance equipment to monitor their secretary?

If it was anyone but her godmother telling her to take this job, she’d walk right out the door. But Agnes wouldn’t rope her into a bad situation just so she could go on vacation for her fortieth anniversary. It must seem worse than it was.

And yet, she couldn’t put her finger on what was really going on here. She scanned over the confidentiality paperwork with distrust. Brody Eden owned Eden Software Systems. Office solutions and communications. Nothing classified. Nothing that might threaten national security if it was leaked. And yet if she failed to follow the terms of the agreement, she would be obligated to pay a five-million-dollar settlement.

“I don’t know about this. Five million dollars? I don’t have that kind of money.”

“You think I do?” Agnes laughed. “It’s deliberately high to ensure no one breaks the agreement, that’s all. As long as you do your job and don’t talk about Mr. Eden to anyone but me, you’ll be fine.”

“I don’t understand. Talk about what?” As far as Sam knew, Brody Eden was some kind of wizard behind the curtain. He was like Bill Gates without a face. Reporters had tried and failed to find information on him, raising even more questions, mystery and interest. He simply didn’t exist before launching his software empire. If people found out she had access to him, she supposed they might come to her for details, but what was so important that she couldn’t tell? How he liked his coffee?

Sam didn’t understand all the mystery. She’d always assumed it was only to stir up buzz about the company, but the cameras and the contract made her wonder if there wasn’t more to it.

Agnes sighed. “Sign the agreement and I’ll tell you. It’s not a big deal. Definitely not worth blowing this opportunity and this salary while I’m gone. You need the money. Sign.” She pushed a pen to her and nodded. “Do it.”

Sam did need the money. And the pay was very good. Too good. Suspiciously good. There had to be a reason why, but apparently she wouldn’t know until she’d already signed her deal with the devil. Well, in the end, it really didn’t matter. Her rent was due and she had fifteen dollars in her checking account. She picked up the pen, signing and dating the agreement at the bottom of the page.

“Excellent,” Agnes said with a smile. “Mediterranean cruise, here I come.” She got up from the chair and slipped all the paperwork in a folder. She carried it over to a small, silver door mounted in the wall that turned out to be some kind of drawer. Agnes placed the file inside and then slid it shut.

“What is that?”

“I was giving Mr. Eden your paperwork.”

“You don’t just walk into his office and hand it to him?”

Agnes chuckled. “No. I very rarely go in there.”

Sam turned to look at the massive oak doors that separated them from the secret lair of Brody Eden. They looked like they would hold up to a battering ram and were likely wired with sophisticated locks and security like every other door she’d gone through. They were intimidating. Damn near unapproachable. And she was itching to find out what was on the other side.

“And he won’t come out here to get it?”

“He does, but only when he feels like it. He communicates mostly through the speakerphone or the computer. He tends to email and instant message a lot throughout the day. The drawer works best for anything else. That’s how you’ll give him his mail and exchange paperwork with him. When he’s done with something, he’ll slide the drawer back to you.”

“Like Hannibal Lecter?”

“Something like that,” Agnes said. She sat back down at her desk, where Sam would be working for the next month, and folded her hands. “Okay, now that the legalities are handled, we have to have a chat.”

Sam took a deep breath. The last half hour’s discussion had built up a nervous tension that drew all her muscles tight. Now that she’d signed on the dotted line, she wasn’t sure if she really wanted to know what was so closely guarded. And yet her curiosity was burning at her. “What have you gotten me into, Agnes?”

“Do you think I would’ve worked here for as long as I have if the job was terrible? I have had horrible bosses and he isn’t one of them. I adore Brody like he’s my own son. You’ve just got to learn how to handle him. He’ll be less...prickly...if you do.”

Prickly. Sam didn’t like that word. She preferred her bosses to be without sharp, biting barbs. Of course, having a sexy, charismatic boss had only led her to heartache and unemployment. Maybe a prickly, distant one would be better. If she was rarely in the same room with him, she couldn’t possibly have an affair and get fired.

Sam turned to one of the video cameras. She was uncomfortable having this discussion knowing he might be listening in. “Is he watching us on those?”

Agnes looked at the camera and shrugged. “Probably, but there’s no sound. He can only hear us on the speakerphone unless you yell through the door. Right now, we’re able to speak candidly, so I’ll tell you the big secret. Mr. Eden was disfigured in an accident a long time ago. Part of his face was damaged very badly. He’s very self-conscious about it and doesn’t like anyone to see him. He also doesn’t want anyone to know about his injury. That’s the main reason for all the mystery. No one can know he’s scarred like he is. When and if you do see him face-to-face, it’s best if you go on like you don’t even notice it. Keep the surprise, the disgust, the pity inside. It might be hard at first, but you’ll get used to it.”

She wasn’t supposed to, but Sam couldn’t help the pang of sympathy she felt for her new boss. How lonely it must be to live like that. It sounded horrible. It made her want to help him somehow. It was just her nature.

Her father had always called her “Daddy’s Little Fixer.” Sam’s mother had died when she was in second grade, but being only seven hadn’t stopped Sam from stepping up to be the lady of the house. She was never much of a nurturer, but she got things done. Socks with holes? Mended. No money for groceries? Macaroni Surprise for dinner.

If someone had a problem, going to Sam would guarantee it would get dealt with quickly and efficiently. Even if they didn’t think they had a problem, she would fix it. That’s why her two younger brothers referred to her as “The Meddler,” instead.

But how could she help Mr. Eden if he kept himself hidden away? “Will I even see him? It sounds like he doesn’t come out.”

“Eventually, he will. Grumpy, like a hibernating bear. But his bark is worse than his bite. He’s mostly harmless. Mostly.”

Sam could only nod while she tried to absorb all of this. Agnes continued on, telling her about the various tasks she was responsible for. Aside from the basic secretarial stuff, she was also expected to run errands for him.

“I pick up his dry cleaning? Doesn’t he have a wife or something to do that?” she asked as she looked over the list Agnes had typed up for her.

“No. He’s single. When I say you and I are the only ones to see him, I mean it. You’ll pick up coffee for him in the morning. Sometimes I get his lunch, but most times he will bring his own or have something delivered to the lobby, which you’ll have to go get.”

The man really didn’t go out in public. It was mind-boggling. “How can someone live their life without going outside? Without going to the store or the movies or to dinner with friends?”

“Mr. Eden lives his life through his computer. Whatever he can do from there, he will. What he can’t do, you do for him. You’re more of a personal assistant than a secretary. He doesn’t pay a premium salary for you to sit around filing your nails and answering the phone.”

Apparently not. But Sam could deal with this. Now that all the secrets were out in the open, the nervous butterflies had faded. This might not be so bad. “When do I start?”

“Tomorrow. You’ll shadow me tomorrow and Friday, and then you’ll be on your own for the next four weeks.”

“Okay. Any particular office dress?”

Agnes shrugged. “Most of the employees here are fairly casual dressers. Mr. Eden wears suits every day, although I’ve never been able to figure out why given no one sees him but me. You have such a flair for fashion, so I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

Sam tried not to laugh at her godmother’s mention of her “flair for fashion.” That was one way to put it. Another way was that she was obsessed with clothes and shoes. The more girly and feminine the better. She loved sparkles and glitter, pinks and purples. The right pair of platform heels or leather handbag could nearly send her into a climax.

Sadly, her past two months of unemployment had been devastating for her wardrobe. She’d gotten so discouraged from how everything ended at her last job that she’d slipped into wearing sweats and T-shirts all the time. Heels seemed like overkill for watching Lifetime movie marathons.

But that was in the past. She had a job, she was out in the world and her fashionable ways would reign once again. So yes, Mr. Eden would be getting a trendsetting eyeful from his little video cameras.

“Let’s go get your badge and codes setup. They’ll scan your fingerprint to get you access to this floor while we’re there, too.”

Sam got up from her seat and started following her godmother to the exit. Feeling brave, she stopped for a moment and looked back up at the video camera that was tracking her movements across the room.

Looking directly into the lens, she flipped her long blond curls over her shoulder and straightened her posture defiantly. “If you’re going to spend the next month watching me from that little lens,” she said, knowing he couldn’t hear her, “I hope you like what you see.”

* * *

“Like” was an understatement. Samantha Davis was distracting.

Brody had watched his new assistant train with Agnes for the past two days as though he were watching a fascinating new film. The two large screens that were connected to the surveillance cameras had captured his attention the moment Samantha came up for her interview. He’d ignored most of his work. Missed a conference call. He was just intrigued by her and the way she would turn to the cameras as though she were watching him as he was watching her.

He supposed it might be because he wasn’t exposed to many people—women in particular—but even if he were, he couldn’t help but think that Samantha would catch his eye. He liked the thick golden-blond curls that spilled over her shoulders and down her back. Her skin had a kiss of sun like she enjoyed jogging or swimming outside. He was drawn to her large brown eyes and bright smile. She wasn’t particularly tall, but she made up for it with sky-high heels that made her legs look fantastic when she paired them with short pencil skirts.

She was really quite striking. Certainly a change of scenery from fifty-nine-year-old Agnes.

He loved Agnes like a mother. She was hardworking, efficient, if not a touch crotchety, but he liked her that way. Agnes was an office dynamo. It made Brody wonder how he was going to get through the next month without her.

Agnes had mentioned this anniversary trip months ago. He had had plenty of time to prepare. And yet, he still wasn’t ready to deal with the actuality of her leaving for that long.

When Agnes suggested hiring her goddaughter to fill in while she was away, it seemed like a sensible suggestion. But he hadn’t thought to ask if her goddaughter was attractive. He supposed most people wouldn’t think that mattered either way, but it did to him. Brody avoided most people, but he avoided beautiful women the most diligently.

It didn’t make much sense to anyone, especially his foster brothers, who were constantly riding him to get out and date. But they didn’t understand what it was like. When they approached a beautiful girl, they only had to worry about rejection. And considering his three foster brothers were all handsome, successful and rich, they didn’t get rejected very often.

When Brody approached a beautiful woman, he knew rejection was a given. But that wasn’t the worst of it. It was the look on a woman’s face when she saw him. That first reaction. That flicker of fear and disgust that even the most sensitive and polite person couldn’t suppress. In Brody’s world, that always came first, even if followed by a quick recovery and an attempt at indifference.

But what was even worse than that was the expression of pity that inevitably came. Brody knew there were people with worse injuries than his. Soldiers came home from the Middle East every day with burns that covered over half their bodies. They didn’t hide away. Some were even outspoken advocates, role models for other victims. People were inspired by their strength to look beyond their scars.

That was a noble choice, but it didn’t suit Brody. He hadn’t been injured serving his country, and he wasn’t interested in being the public face for acid burn victims. Being pitied one person at a time was bad enough. He couldn’t take the massive public wave of sympathy all at once. He supposed that was why he’d gained a reputation of being not just a recluse, but a real bastard. He didn’t like being that way, but it was a necessity. People didn’t pity the villain, even if he was disfigured. They just figured he got what he deserved.

Turning back to the monitor that showed Samantha and Agnes going over some files, Brody sighed.

Looking at a beautiful woman, then having her look at you like you’re some kind of sideshow freak... Brody didn’t want to deal with that any more than he absolutely had to. And that was why he’d opted not to go out and introduce himself yet. Let her think he was rude. Everyone else did.

He was enjoying watching her from afar and not knowing what she looked like when she was horrified by his twisted and scarred face. She would be here for nearly a month, so Brody would probably go out eventually. But no matter how long he waited, she would still be beautiful and he would still be...what he was.

A loud ping from one of his computers distracted him from his dark thoughts. Spinning in his chair, he rolled over to one of the six machines that surrounded his desk.

The alert chimed after his web crawler software finished running one of its queries. He’d designed a system that scoured the internet daily for any searches or mentions of several things, including his given name, Brody Butler. The results were filtered to exclude any duplicates or mentions of the various Brody Butlers that he’d established as someone else.

From there, he’d review the results for anything questionable. Anything that might cause him or his foster family any grief. If someone, somewhere, was looking for him, Brody would be the first to know. He was a very private man, and he didn’t want his past interfering with his present. It was the reason he’d taken his foster parents’ name after high school. He wanted to put his childhood behind him. He wanted to start fresh and be a success because he was smart and savvy, not because people felt bad for him.

And for some reason, he worried that if someone connected Brody Butler and Brody Eden, it would lead to more questions about the past than he wanted to answer.

Blame it on his childhood, but Brody never let his guard down. If something could go wrong, he was fairly certain it would. His brothers accused him of being pessimistic, but he preferred to be prepared for the worst. He hadn’t been able to stop his biological father from beating him, but he had always been mentally and physically ready when it came.

So, like he had as a child, he slept with one eye open, so to speak. His eye was on the internet. If someone was looking for him, the internet was the smartest place to start. And he would be watching and waiting for them.

“So what have we here?” Brody scanned over the report and breathed a sigh of relief. Someone named Brody Butler had driven his truck through a convenience store window in Wisconsin. False alarm. No one was looking for him today. Or yesterday. Or the past five years Brody had been watching. Perhaps no one ever would.

His former identity had vanished after he’d graduated from high school. He was simply another kid lost in the foster system. Not even his real parents had looked for him. His father had limited access in prison, but his mother had never tried to contact him, either. Given that she had chosen to side with her abusive husband over her scarred son, that was just as well.

Brody wasn’t sure he would ever understand women. He was smart, caring and successful, but most women didn’t see anything but the scars. And at the same time, his mother was attending every parole hearing, waiting for the day his abusive father was released from jail and they could be together again.