Yes, Prime Minister Read online

  Table of Contents

  title

  rights

  description

  one

  two

  three

  four

  five

  six

  seven

  eight

  epilogue

  second epilogue

  Stepbrother Anonymous

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Aria Cole

  Contents

  title

  rights

  description

  one

  two

  three

  four

  five

  six

  seven

  eight

  epilogue

  second epilogue

  Stepbrother Anonymous

  one

  two

  three

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Aria Cole

  YES, PRIME MINISTER

  ARIA COLE

  YES, PRIME MINISTER

  Copyright © 2017 by Aria Cole

  Cover Design: Sybil at PopKitty Design

  Editing: Silently Correcting Your Grammar

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage.

  As the Prime Minister of the greatest nation to the north, boyishly handsome Bryce Gallagher gets exactly what he wants, exactly when he wants it. He's never met a foreign dignitary he couldn't charm, or an office assistant that didn't swoon with one panty-dropping smile. But Bryce has never met a woman that's caught his attention. And then Juliette Alexandre walked into his life.

  Growing up on the wrong side of the tracks requires grit, and Juliette Alexandre has it in spades. She's worked tooth and nail for every accomplishment she's earned, which is why she is zero percent interested in the perfectly round, incredibly taut, viral-worthy ass of her new boss, Prime Minister Gallagher. She's finally landed the dream job, now she just has to avoid eye-fucking the sexy-as-hell Prime Minister every time he shoots her that orgasm-inducing grin. The fate of the country may depend on it.

  ONE

  Juliette

  “Juliette!” my best friend hissed, waving me over to her desk.

  “What’s up? I have to get this file down to the PM’s office—”

  “Did you see the shot of the prime minister’s ass that’s gone viral?” Jordan grinned up at me triumphantly. No way could I turn away after words like that.

  “What?” I leaned over her shoulder, eyes on the screen.

  And sure enough, there it was.

  A close-up of the prime minister of Canada’s very toned, very round ass.

  “He must work out.” Jordan zoomed in on the picture of his derriere, fine dress slacks stretching across the taut muscle as he stood poised to step onstage to give a speech. “I mean, look at that curve…” She tilted her head. “I want a bite.”

  “Oh my God.” Who didn’t? “I’m never going to scrub this from my mind. What am I going to do the next time I’m stuck in the elevator with him?”

  “Please, he takes the private elevator most of the time. I think you’re safe.” Jordan darkened the screen on her phone then tucked it away in her bag.

  “Yeah, but I’m not good at hiding what’s on my mind. He’ll know I’ve seen the picture. I’ll turn tomato red!”

  “He’ll know everyone’s seen that picture. But he does like to come down here once in a while, and you do blush over the slightest thing.” She tapped one long nail on her teeth. “You’re fucked.”

  I shot her a death glare before spinning and waving her off. I’d been working here for six weeks and harbored a crush on the prime minister the entire time, just like every other girl who worked in this building. But I had to deliver this file then get back to analyzing the poll numbers on the speech he had given to a group of veterans yesterday. The reception so far was overwhelmingly good, but every so often someone complained that the PM was out of touch with the people or some other political buzz-phrase. Overall, the PM’s approval ratings were through the roof. He was young, good-looking, sophisticated, and well-spoken, and to top it all off, pretty much Canadian royalty. His father had been prime minister back in the day too. The guy had been born with charm in his blood, the political darling of his generation.

  And here I was, only hired a couple months ago, fresh out of university and thrilled to be offered even a low-level position on the prime minister’s staff.

  The fact that he was roguishly handsome made working under him that much harder. Just like every other red-blooded woman on the planet, I was drawn to the chiseled bone structure, the warm, compassionate eyes, and the charming, slightly mischievous smile of our nation’s prime minister, Bryce Gallagher.

  I sighed, tucking the file under my arm, and punched the button for the elevator that would whir me upstairs to the PM’s office.

  The elevator dinged, the doors sliding open, and I stepped in without once raising my eyes from the floor.

  Big mistake.

  The biggest.

  Also, maybe the best.

  I spun, punched the button for the top floor, then noticed a pair of shiny, fine leather shoes just at the edge of my vision.

  A throat cleared a moment later.

  The doors closed, and I raised my eyes, swallowing painfully as I locked eyes with the man of the hour, Bryce Gallagher.

  “Good afternoon, Prime Minister.” The words fell from my lips on instinct.

  He nodded, grin twitching to one side. His gaze hung on mine for impossibly long beats, the air sucked straight out of the elevator, leaving my lungs fighting for oxygen. Was it hot in here? Suddenly, prickles were crawling up my neck and heating my palms.

  One cool eyebrow rose before his eyes flicked down to the file tucked under my arm. “That for me?”

  I clutched the file on instinct, heat burning up my neck and causing my ears to flame. “Yessss.”

  Shit, I was pretty sure I hadn't meant for that one little word to come out so…needy sounding.

  His grin deepened then, fingers dusting mine as he pulled the now slightly wrinkled file from my hands.

  “Thanks for the delivery.” His words chugged like honey through my veins, slow, sticky, so sweet.

  “Anytime,” I replied, mind stretching to visualize something else, anything else but the fine, round cut of his ass in those pants.

  “Not up for anything more than one-word answers?” His lips turned up, his eyes twinkling as he teased me.

  Oh Jesus, the prime minister was teasing me as we stood entirely too close in an elevator.

  What to say? What on earth could I say? This man was everything I wasn’t: cultured, refined, the smartest human I was pretty sure had ever walked the planet, and undeniably gorgeous. Oh, and fit. The pull of his jacket across the broad expanse of his shoulders right now proved it.

  “I-I—” The elevator dinged just then, saving me from intelligent things like speaking. I stood stock-still as he stepped out, eyes slicing to me as he turned, walking backward a few slow steps.

  “Coming with me?”

  “I—” My eyes shot around the small foyer that led to his office, normally staffed by a secretary who was noticeably absent.

  “Helen’s on lunch. Security is stationed with the repair crew fixing the private elevator. I’ve got a few minutes before I’ve got to get on the phone with the president of France…”

  His dark eyes held mine, setting off fireworks in my stomach. Was the prime minister really asking me for my opinion on something? Was he actually initiating a conversation, something he hadn’t done
beyond a polite nod or a good morning on the rare occasion we passed in the hall. I stood, painfully conscious that he was waiting for my reply.

  “Okay.” I finally breathed, following him off the elevator and into his office.

  TWO

  Bryce

  I shot her a wayward grin when she followed me down the hall, shoulders brushing as we walked side by side. I hadn’t been able to keep my eyes off this girl every single day of the last six weeks since she’d started. I’d had nothing to do with hiring her, but I was damn thankful for whoever had.

  And it’s not like there was a shortage of pretty faces hanging around Langevin Block, the building the prime minister's office has historically been housed in.

  But this was the first woman who actually appeared to have both feet on the ground while genuinely working to better the future of this country.. She was not here to climb her own political ladder, but to make a difference.

  Not that I would have minded if she were a woman with political aspirations of her own. In fact, I thought a woman with a mind for business and motivation was hot as hell, but I didn’t like that you could see through so many of them

  So many of the people in this city were willing to step on anyone to get ahead, and that wasn’t a way of life I subscribed to.

  I made a point of going out of my way to show kindness to everyone, from the housekeeping staff to the president of the United States. I didn’t give a shit who you were—every human on our planet deserved kindness. I was a guy who had always worn his heart on his sleeve, and I thought that was something that worked for me when I ran my campaign. When I gave a speech, I spoke directly from the heart, no political speechwriters putting words in my mouth. I wanted the people to know exactly where I was coming from, in my own words.

  Juliette Alexandre was no different.

  Except she was, in every way, and that’s why I’d found myself here today.

  When she’d stepped into the elevator, it was like the goddamned stars had aligned. I’d spent weeks obsessing over the sweet curve of her cheeks and the way her chest colored pink when my eyes caressed her creamy skin. I’d been fighting this thing pulsing between us for too long now, and I’d never had to fight to keep myself apart from someone in my life.

  I was thirty-four, happily single, busier than hell, and decidedly not looking for love.

  Until Juliette had graced my life.

  “Something to drink?” I asked when I pushed through the wooden doors of the prime minister’s office. My sacred space, at least for as long as I was given the opportunity by the people of our great nation to have it.

  “I’m fine.” Her words came out soft, tentative.

  Everything about her made me want to pull her into my arms and never let go. Feelings like possessiveness and protection, things reserved only for alpha cavemen, came alive deep inside my gut.

  I wasn’t sure what the hell this feeling was, but I had to find out.

  “Do I make you uncomfortable, Juliette?” I touched one soft knuckle to her temple. A slow shudder rolled through her body, goose bumps popping up across the skin at her neck as her chest heaved with erratic little pants.

  “You know my name?” Her lips parted, and I had to fight not to cover her mouth with mine.

  “Of course I do.” I dipped a fingertip down the satiny curve of her neck, relishing the shudder that tore through her skin. “It’s been running through my head on repeat since the moment Locke told it to me.”

  “Locke?” she asked breathily, eyes falling closed and the shadow of her eyelashes whispering across her cheekbones. I wanted this woman under me and now. I’d hardly been able to think straight, passing her in the hall only every so often, running downstairs under the guise of any excuse I could think of to catch a glimpse of her. Just seeing her through the crack of my open door when she delivered the poll results every afternoon was enough to drive me to distraction.

  “Locke is the head of my security team. Also in charge of personally overseeing the vetting of all staff who walk through the doors of Langevin Block.” My lips hovered just centimeters from hers, every bone in my body poised to slip my tongue across the seam of her lips and take what was mine.

  What was mine.

  Hell, I’d been thinking about her as mine for a while now.

  She just didn’t know it yet.

  “So what do the poll numbers say today, Ms. Alexandre?” I inched closer, brushing my hip against hers, which was covered in the dark plum-colored formfitting dress that I wanted my head under.

  “Um, well.” Her eyes darted to the file I’d tossed on my desk. She pulled it to her, flipping it open before sucking her bottom lip between her teeth.

  I think I nearly came in my fucking pants.

  When was the last time any woman had had this effect on me? Not even when I was in college and jerking off three times a day to old Baywatch reruns had I met someone this intoxicating. And what was that scent? Vanilla custard? Was it really possible she smelled like my favorite dessert, or was that just in my head?

  “Early numbers show overwhelmingly positive—” She stumbled over the last word when my fingertip reached the hollow of her throat, hovering just at the neckline of her dress.

  “Go out with me.” I said the first thing that popped into my head.

  “What?” Her eyes were wide, peering up at me like she’d just misheard.

  “I should have asked you before now. It’s just such a pain in the ass having security trailing me around all the time—”

  “Wait, rewind. Did you really just ask me to go out with you?” Her mouth hung open, as if incredulous. What was so damn incredible about that?

  “I did. Preferably out to dinner, but I’m game for anything else you may have in mind.” My grin tipped to one side, enjoying the way her chest was heaving with those short, shallow breaths. I wondered what noise she’d make when I slipped inside her, her body hot and wet and so ready for me. “Close those pretty lips, darling. You don’t even want to know what I want to do with them like that.”

  She swallowed, head nodding once, then twice before she blinked and turned her eyes back to the file. Flipping it around on the desk nervously, she whispered, “Sure.”

  “That’s it?” I laughed, looping an arm around her waist and pulling her to me. Nestling her against all the hard angles of my form, tucking her right where she belonged.

  Her grin turned up in a little smile then, the pink hue of her cheeks making my dick twitch with desperation. I’d been waiting long enough for her; this preliminary dating stuff just felt like semantics. Juliette was meant to be mine. I could feel it with every strong and steady beat of my heart.

  “I’ve met a lot of women in my life, and not a single one of them has been like you.” I dragged a thumb across her lower lip, feeling drunk on her presence all of a sudden.

  “Is that really a good thing?” She swayed on her feet, muscles loose and body soft under mine. This woman fit me like a glove, and I couldn't wait for all of the other pieces of our lives to fit together.

  “That’s a fucking incredible thing.” I cupped her face in my hands then lowered my lips to hers, doing the one thing I’d been craving since first laying eyes on her. Her fingertips tangled in the soft curls at the back of my neck, breathy moans escaping her lips as her hips swayed against mine. Unable to contain the fire any longer, I scooped her up in one arm and slid her ass onto my desk. Her legs went around my waist, locking as she pulled on my hair in delicate tugs with each stroke of her tongue.

  My hungry cock pressed against the edge of my zipper, biting into the metal and reminding me just how desperately I wanted this woman, had been wanting her. Seeing her walk around for so many days on end without ever having an excuse to touch her had been like a dagger twisting a little deeper in my back every day.

  “I’m trying like hell not to take advantage of you, Juliette, but you're making it hard.”

  A soft chuckle fell past her lips, and I chose that moment
to dig my steel-edged cock into the seam of her pussy, heat radiating from her damp core straight to my fucking soul.

  “You shouldn't worry so much about my virtue.” Her fingertips dusting across the skin at my nape were enough to undo me, if her words hadn’t already started the job.

  “If I don’t, who will?” I sealed her lips with my kiss, slowing easing the ridge of my cock between her thighs, imagining the thousand and one ways I could show her exactly how consumed I was by her.

  Juliette Alexandre had already done a number on me, and having her here, on my desk, under my hands and pressed against my lips, was only the beginning. I’d denied myself for too long. Juliette was put on my staff for more than just her stellar analytical smarts. She was put here because she was meant to find her way right into my hands.

  I had no doubt about that.

  Now I just had to prove it to her.

  THREE

  Juliette

  The hours following the moment Bryce Gallagher, prime minister of one of the greatest nations on the planet, pressed his lips to mine ticked by at a torturous pace. I couldn't get him off my mind, and waiting until our “date” the following night felt like another form of hell. My stomach twisted, my knees were constantly weak just thinking of making conversation with him, and what the hell was I supposed to wear?

  Would we be surrounded by security? Hounded by the press? I had no idea what to expect, and truth be told, the nerves got the better of me so many times I almost called to cancel. A rare strain of typhoid had knocked me out…but then, if I said that, I’d have to quit my job and start my entire life over. Just for the sake of avoiding one little date. And then I realized it would probably be short anyway because no way could I entertain Bryce Gallagher for more than five minutes, much less through an entire dinner.

  So later the following afternoon, I dodged out of work early after not having seen Bryce once in all the hours since our kiss, and I headed home to plan what to wear. After angsting for an hour, I’d given up and texted Jordan half a dozen pictures of different dresses I was thinking of wearing.