Page 44 of Forbidden Boss (Manhattan Billionaires)

He held them between his thumb and forefinger like they were some disgusting biohazardous waste, his lips curled. “You eat this shit?”

“Blakely. Give me my emergency cookies.”

“These aren’t cookies. These are garbage.” He stalked to the trash can next to his desk and dropped them in.

I stood, aghast. “You can’t just throw my cookies away!”

“Again, Jordan. They aren’t cookies. They’re sugary cardboard circles.”

“But they’remysugary cardboard circles.”

“If you want chocolate chip cookies, I’ll get you chocolate chip cookies.”

“That’s not the point!”

“Grab your things,” he said, and he walked out of his office.

I stared at the takeout containers on the coffee table and then slid my gaze to the trash can. They were individually wrapped, and his trash was mostly paper, so I could retrieve them if I really wanted to be stubborn about it. But before I could decide whether I was part-raccoon or not, Clara poked her head in and said, “I’ll handle the cleanup. He’s waiting at the elevator for you.”

“I don’t know how you deal with him every day. I’ve got whiplash after one conversation.”

She flashed me a smile and shrugged. “He hasn’t been so bad lately.”

“Jordan!” my boss’s voice boomed from the other end of the floor. “Get over here!”

“Not so bad?” I asked, slinging my purse onto my shoulder.

Clara laughed and waved me off. I made a point to walk at my normal pace, because I wasn’t scurrying for a man who trashed my sugary cardboard circles without even consulting me. He glared at me from the elevator, his arm across the opening as the doors tried unsuccessfully to close.

“Where are we going in such a hurry all of a sudden?” I stepped into the elevator and felt the same thrill as I did whenever I was in an enclosed space with the man—all of a sudden, there wasn’t enough air in the place, and there was altogether too much him.

“We’re continuing your education,” he said, shooting me a sideways glance. “Clearly, you need it.”

“You are insufferably rude. Did you know that?”

He turned to face me as the elevator shot downward, closing the distance between us. I backed up until I hit the wall, giving him my best glare.

He didn’t seem intimidated by it. A broad palm landed on the wall above my head, and then my boss was only inches away from me, his dark gaze roaming over my features.

This was familiar. And just like last time, my breath hitched and my body went on high alert.

“I think you like it when I boss you around,” he said softly, the toes of his glossy black shoes touching the toes of my cherry-red pumps.

“I think you’re delusional,” I said, trying to sound tough and failing. My voice came out breathy, because he was so close I couldn’t breathe properly, and his eyes seemed to be devouring me, and his scent was everywhere, and I wanted to know if his lips were as soft as they looked.

Because I did like it when he bossed me around. I liked it a whole lot more than I should’ve.

I was once again saved by the elevator coming to a smooth stop. An electronic voice announced that we were not on the ground floor, but one of the basement parking levels. Blakely pushed himself off the wall and strode out. Heart clattering in my chest, I followed.

Now, I had never been a car person—still wasn’t, to be honest—but when Blakely stopped in front of a hot little two-seater coupe with a Ferrari logo on the hood, my middle gave a tiny, undeniable thrill.

He watched me from across the roof as the doors unlocked as if by magic. “Get in, Jordan. We’re getting cookies.”

SIXTEEN

ROME

The engine purred beneath me,and Nikki let out a little puff of breath. I glanced over, brows arched. “You good?”

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