Page 20 of Tempted By the Bosshole

“I am bossy. I’m not trying to hide that at all.” The muffin pops up, and he dumps it on a plate, then swaths it in peanut butter and heads toward me. “I suggest you get used to it.”

“I don’t have to ‘get used’ to anything where you’re concerned. We hooked up, and now it’s over.”

He takes me by the arm and jostles me to the breakfast table, kicking out the chair and planting me in front of my food before he leans over me with a scowl. “You’re wrong, Isabella.”

I gasp. “How do you know?—”

“Your name?” His smile does nothing to set me at ease. “Here’s how this is going to go: you’ll do whatever I say because, first, you work for me.”

“Oh, my god. Are you”—my heart lurches—“Nathan Price?”

“Got it on the first guess. Good. I knew you were smart.”

Shit. I just slept with my new boss. How did I not remember this man? Granted, I haven’t seen Nathan Price in a decade, so my memory of him is more than fuzzy…but we talked over the phone during my interview. Why didn’t I at least recognize his voice?

The gray matter between my ears wasn’t doing the thinking last night. Lust was, damn it.

“You tricked me!”

“I gave you what you wanted when you prowled into the company Christmas party wearing a skintight dress and fuck-me heels.”

“Prowled? You’re wrong. I?—”

“Don’t lie and tell me you went to the party without a single thought of finding someone to fuck.”

A hot flush steals up my face. “I was angry.”

“You deserve to be. Your ex is a complete douche. But that doesn’t change what’s going to happen, because not only do you answer to me during the day…you’re going to answer to me every night, too.”

Foreboding makes me freeze. “What?”

“We’re getting married.”

I shake my head, praying he’s not as serious as he looks. “You’re insane!”

“Maybe, but you’re going to sleep naked in my bed every night and take my cock.”

“No. I’m not?—”

“You are. I have pictures of you breaking into a house I own a few weeks back. Want to see them?”

The only place I’ve ever broken into in my life is the place I thought my dad lived in. How is it Nathan Price’s pad if my father lives there? “I didn’t take anything. I only was searching for?—”

“I don’t care why you were trespassing and illegally entering my property. The fact is, you did. Did I mention that I’m personal friends with the police chief, the DA, and most of the judges around here?”

As threats go, it’s hardly a veiled one. I feel incredibly betrayed. “What do you want?”

“Revenge. Your father stole a small fortune from me. Then he slept with my wife. You’re my repayment.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Eat.”

I’m not actually hungry, but choking down breakfast gives me a few minutes to get my head together.

My thoughts spin. Is my dad’s relationship with the ex-Mrs. Price the reason I haven’t seen or heard from him in so long? Dad was always self-absorbed. I counted on him for money and not much else. Even after I buried Mom, he could barely be bothered with me. But is he really a thief, too? Did he actually take both Nathan Price’s money and his wife?

I swallow the last of the English muffin and wash it down with coffee that’s way better than anything I’ve had at Eric’s place or the office. Before I can blink, my new boss lifts the plate from in front of me and loads it in the dishwasher. Briefly, I think of running out the door, but I’m in Nathan’s clothes, I have no shoes, it’s cold as hell out there…and I still have nowhere to run to. Even if I Ubered to Jen’s place, it’s the size of a cracker box. I can’t stay there long.

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