Page 31 of Contracted and Claimed By The Boss

The stars were incredible from in here. Large, old skylights, circular in shape, showed the heavens as a blanket of lights—not enough to illuminate the room but striking for their vividness; every single one of Paige’s senses was on high alert.

‘What happened?’ She gasped, clinging to his shirtfront as if for dear life.

‘The bulb blew. It’s old. No one ever comes up here.’

‘It’s dark.’ Such an inane comment, but awareness of Max had tipped her over so she was barely conscious of anything but him. How could she think clearly enough to formulate a rational statement?

‘Yes.’ His voice had changed. The gruffness had given way to something else. Something throaty and deep, his breath audible. ‘You’re safe.’

From ghosts? The bogeyman? Maybe. But whatever was swirling between them had Paige on edge. Max wasn’t safe; what she wanted from him wasn’t, either. It was all complicated and scary. ‘Am I?’

Silence fell, and in the absence of noise Paige heard her own body’s escalating rhythms, the rapid thundering of her pulse, the frantic storming of her heart, her lungs, pushing air out faster than they could draw it in, the air seeming to squeal inside her ears.

His hand at her back was vice-like; maybe he was afraid too?

Max? Afraid? She dismissed the thought instantly. He was always in control. Even that afternoon, when they’d made love, his body, having been deprived for so long of a woman’s touch, had still been able to contain itself, despite his warnings.

There was no way he would fear the darkness of the attic.

Something else though, maybe?

His breath was warm on her temple; the only hint she had that he’d moved closer, that he was looking down at her.

‘What happened this afternoon,’ he said quietly, and his fingers stroked her back, moving higher up her spine, then lower, until Paige was trembling all over.

‘Don’t say it was a mistake,’ she murmured, because she couldn’t bear to hear that.

‘No.’ The word was wrenched from him, the concession one he struggled to give. ‘Not a mistake.’

Her heart fluttered.

‘But it can’t happen again.’

His hand lifted her shirt a bit, so his fingers grazed her bare skin.

‘It can’t.’ More forcefully, the words almost choked by his throat.

‘Are you telling me, or yourself?’ she whispered, tilting her face up, body pressed to his by the way he was touching her, moving her forwards.

His voice was a groan. ‘Primarily me, apparently.’

‘Tell me why.’

‘You know the answer. We both do. It’s...complicated. There’s Amanda. My life—it doesn’t include room for you.’

She blinked, shocked by how much that hurt when she’d met this man only days ago, when he’d already been clear about this.

‘For anyone,’ he clarified. ‘I’ve been married once; I hated it.’

Curiosity sparked inside Paige—she had presumed his marriage to have been happy—but other emotions were taking more of her runtime. She felt the need to point out how far ahead of himself he was getting. ‘Do you think I want to marry you because we had sex?’

She heard his rough laugh, just a short, sharp sound. Maybe it wasn’t a laugh? Maybe it was surprise that she’d spoken so directly? But really, was there any point in not calling a spade a spade?

‘It’s easy to get carried away. To think sex might lead to something more. Not necessarily marriage, but a relationship. Seeing you in the kitchen with Amanda...’

Ah. Something about that made sense. Even she’d felt the niceness of that, the similarity to being a normal family. But for Paige, that was part of the job. Everywhere she went, she slipped into the routines and occupied a space that made her family-adjacent. She was used to it, but for Max it must have been confronting. It had just been the two of them for a long time—was he worried about where the lines would be? How to make sure Paige didn’t forget herself? Yes, that had to be it!

Taking a deep breath, and steeling herself to be calm, she explained carefully, ‘We have a relationship now. You’re my boss. I work for you.’

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