Page 46 of Broken Boss

Is it horrible? Does he have a dungeon? A list of rules you have to follow?

Ha ha. I type back, making a face at my phone. Chris is out somewhere, but that doesn’t matter; I’m holed up in the guest bedroom, legs tucked beneath me on the bed, texting Orla. No rules. But his house is pretty…bare.

Maybe that’s an exaggeration. He has art on the walls and plates in the cabinets. There’s no sign of who he is, though. And a part of me longs to know more about Chris Sharpe.

To get revenge, that uncertain voice in my head whispers. Right?

My gut twists with guilt. I do still want revenge; I want to get him back for putting Stephen in prison. For the things my brother has had to endure there, will still have to endure.

Our conversation from yesterday comes back, or at least a part of it, before it blew up in my face. Eva and Roux. Milo.

He has a family. Why didn’t I think of that possibility?

Because he hides it so well. He hides everything. Which means he has secrets.

If the “secret” is that he’s a doting uncle, I’m in trouble. I can’t tell Orla about how my heart aches when he talks about his nieces and nephew. I can’t admit that I fell head over heels when he whipped out a hot chocolate stash. Or when Frank curled up on his bed.

“Traitor,” I mutter, nudging my dog, who only opens an eye to give me a baleful look.

I get it, though. I’ve been tempted by the thought of burying myself in those sheets, Chris’s scent surrounding me, lulling me…

Unsurprising, considering that his entire focus is on destroying people’s lives in court.

Damn. Orla isn’t giving him an ounce of slack here. With a sigh, I wonder what the heck I should get up to today. It’s Sunday and quiet. The neighborhood Chris lives in is wealthy for sure, with privacy fences or acres of land separating the houses.

Maybe I should take Frank out for a walk. Let him sniff to his heart’s content.

So…what did he make of your out-of-office attire?

I can practically see Orla’s smirk as I read the text and roll my eyes. My face heats in a blush. Another line of Chris’s from yesterday comes back — I like to keep work and family separate. Makes things easier.

I get where he’s coming from. Unfortunately, for me, work and family are intertwined, but work and my personal life? My comfort outside of the firm? That’s a different story.

My gaze slips over to the duffle bag of clothes I packed, as well as another stuffed backpack. I have no idea how long I’ll have to be here…hopefully not too long, but there’s no way to know. It’s not like I can ask Kieran what the hell he wants or how long he’s going to be stalking me.

An explosion of pink, white, coral, lavender, mauve, and pearl peek out of the bags. Sweat pants, crop tops, and lingerie.

Why can’t I just have normal, boring, comfortable underwear? At least a few pairs.

My clit twinges at the reminder of what I’m wearing right now. Lace underwear that rub insistently at my core and a matching bra. I can’t help wondering what expression would be on Chris’s face if he saw…

No. Definitely not.

I took Orla’s advice, messed around with him, and I obviously have his attention now. He’s offered to let me stay here indefinitely.

I just want you to be safe.

Another twinge, this time deep in my gut. When was the last time someone said those words to me?

Easy answer — never. I’ve been looking out for myself since my parents died and Stephen got locked up. And Kieran? The last thing he was worried about was my safety.

Does Chris mean it? Or is he just hoping for another roll in the hay?

My phone vibrates and I pick it up again.

Okay, all jokes aside…be careful please.

A soft smile slips out. Orla can be a hard ass, and hates Chris Sharpe almost as much as I do, but she’s genuinely worried about me.

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