Page 6 of Contracted and Claimed By The Boss

But Paige did. She needed answers, and not from Amanda—it was clear that the little girl would need some time to adapt to the new dynamic and Paige knew better than to push it.

Despite the fact having a conversation with Max made her blood do funny things in her veins, she balled her hands into fists and walked back downstairs, along the pleasingly cool corridor, to the room with the closed door. Knocking on it twice, she waited for him to call something out, but when he didn’t, she turned the door handle slowly, cautiously, poking her head around the door in time to catch Max evidently lost in thought, standing at the window and staring out.

In those few seconds, her wretched eyes observed details that were none of her business, like how athletic and toned he was, how pleasingly slim his waist was, how his trousers fitted him snugly in all the right places, hugging his bottom and hips, making it impossible not to notice his virility, so she startled, lifting fingers to her lips and blinking away quickly, but not, she suspected, before he caught her in the act of staring at a very personal part of his anatomy. Oh, good heavens. How she wished the earth would open up and swallow her whole.

What was wrong with her?

‘What is it now, Paige?’

At least he’d dispensed with the ‘Miss Cooper’.

But Paige’s mouth had turned to dust, as dry as the desert airstrip she’d flown into, and her tongue was all thick and stagnant in her mouth.

He made a growling noise, then strode towards her, reaching behind Paige and pushing the door closed. ‘Let’s get one thing straight,’ he said, pressing a finger to her chin and lifting her face towards his, so their eyes met and their lips were only inches apart. Her breathing was rushed, her chest moving quickly to allow for the fast pace of her lungs. ‘I am not part of what’s on offer here. You’re here to care for Amanda. If you have any other ideas, then I suggest you forget them.’

Paige was aghast, her lips parting and her eyes flooding with white-hot rage at his disgusting assertion. She wanted to slap the man in front of her for daring to suggest such a disgusting thing, even when the rational part of her brain could see, on some level, why he’d leaped to that conclusion. Finding herself in his bedroom that afternoon had been one thing but, coupled with the way she’d just been ogling him, yes, she could understand how he’d added two and two together and arrived at four. Pride however made her defend herself.

‘You are so, so wrong,’ she said stonily, when she could trust her voice to emerge without breaking.

‘Am I?’ His eyes probed hers, a warning in them, but also a surrender, so Paige knew that if she didn’t step away from him, something was going to happen. She didn’t know what. She couldn’t have said, but it felt as if a time bomb were ticking, counting down to an inexorable explosion. ‘And so being in my bedroom was really an innocent mistake?’

‘Of course it was,’ she hissed, wondering why she still wasn’t moving away.

He held her chin, and then his other hand lifted, as if drawn by magnetic force, to her hip, his fingers splayed wide.

‘You should keep your distance, Paige.’

Her eyes fluttered closed and her senses were filled with him. His smell, his nearness, his strength and warmth. She swallowed, her mouth not working properly. But she thought of Amanda and how much that little girl needed her, needed help, how her behaviour was likely a classic cry for that, and knew she had to push through this.

‘I can’t do that.’

His nostrils flared. He was so close it was hard to think straight but she forced herself to focus.

‘This situation is going to work best if you and I are a team. We have to work together.’

‘But we’re not talking about work right now.’

No, they hadn’t been. They were talking about something distinctly unprofessional, something messy and fraught with difficulties, the kind of complications Paige avoided like the plague. Her personal life was already imploding, she didn’t need to throw this kind of dynamite into the mix.

With another deep breath, and a glare for good measure, she stepped quickly away from him, deeper into an office that was clearly a sanctuary for the man. ‘Believe me, I’m not interested in that,’ she said huskily, waving a hand in the vicinity of the door while her troubled eyes landed on the rainforest.

‘That’s good, because it’s not going to happen.’

Was he trying to convince her? Or himself? After all, he was the one who’d put his hand on her hip, who’d touched her as though he couldn’t stop himself. She remembered the way she’d been taken advantage of as a teenager, the unwelcome advances, the pressure to hook up with men just because it was expected of her, or the possibility it could be professionally advantageous. She should have hated being touched. She thought she did, yet there was something about his tanned, broad hand that was so masculine and so—reassuring, even as he was throwing lewd accusations at her. But this wasn’t going to work if she allowed this strange energy to take over everything. She had to concentrate.

‘We need to discuss Amanda.’

His expression was unreadable, but on his lips she thought she caught a hint of derision and dug her nails into her palms to stop herself from explaining further.

‘What would you like to discuss?’

‘Her behaviour.’

He stiffened. ‘Yes?’

‘One of the reasons children lash out like this is that something specific has happened. Something upsetting. A fight with friends, for example. Can you think of anything that’s been going on with Amanda?’

His eyes narrowed. ‘Nothing out of the ordinary.’

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