Page 85 of Monstrous Urges

The smirk drops from his face.

“Careful, counselor,” he growls quietly.

I bite back the shiver that chases up my spine.

“It’s not a ‘me’ problem if telling my partners that I’ve decided to take a three-freaking-month vacation from the firm sends up massive red flags and they start asking questions. That, I believe, is what is referred to as a ‘you’ problem.”

Drazen looks about as amused by me throwing his words back at him as he’d be by a root canal without local anesthesia.

“I have clients I can’t walk away from, Drazen. Responsibilities. I mean Gabriel is in the middle of transitioning out of the firm entirely, and we need to bring the new managing partner up to?—”

“You’ll work from here.”

I start to shake my head. “That’s impossible.”

“That’s my line, and I won’t be budging on it,” he growls. “Even for ‘the brightest young new mind in law’ as reported by The Legal Journal,” he says dryly, his tone laced with sarcasm.

“I can’t possibly?—”

“You’ll tell your colleagues that I’m hiring you as my legal consultant on a massive new business expansion I’m doing over the next three months. You’ll have space for an office here, and you’ll be free to work on whatever Crown and Black business you need to work on, from here. Other than that, you’ll be attending to the legal matters of my expansion, for which—I’m sure your partners will be happy to hear—I’ll be paying you handsomely.”

“No,” I hiss.

“This isn’t a negotiation.”

“Why the fuck would I possibly need to stay?—”

My words and breath choke off as Drazen surges into my personal space. My eyes flare as his hand slips into the back of my hair, grabbing it in a fist. I whimper as he yanks my head back, dropping his mouth so close and so quickly to mine that I think he’s going to kiss me.

Then his mouth slips past my cheek, his lips brushing my ear.

“Because I’m not flying to New York every time I feel like chasing you down and fucking my greedy little whore in the dark. That’s why.”

I’m still trembling, throbbing, and dizzy when he pulls back and abruptly turns to walk away.

“Call your partners and make the arrangements. Our deal begins immediately.”

18

TAYLOR

The other end of the line goes utterly silent for a second. Then another. Then a few more, until I’m not sure Alistair is still actually there.

“Alis—”

“Is this a fucking joke?”

There’s a clipped, cold tone in his voice.

“Look, it’ll just be three months?—”

“Yeah, I got that part,” he spits venomously. “Hence my question. And the answer had better be fucking yes. After which, we can discuss how good a thing it is you never went into comedy, because you, Taylor, are not fucking funny.”

The line goes quiet again.

“You…uh…” I clear my throat. “Are you done?”

“Oh, I can keep going.”

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