“Get home, Miss Davis. It’s late.”
I grab my laptop, shove it into my bag, and hurry to catch up with him before the elevator doors shut.
I forget, sometimes, how very large he is, until I’m squished into an elevator cubicle with his big, muscular form towering over me, seeming to take up all the available space. I remember quite liking his size when I’d first met him…
I stare up at him with narrowed eyes, unsure what to think about him referencing a throwaway comment I’d made over two years ago, and my brain won’t let the thought drop.
“Are you still single?” I ask suddenly, unsure where the question even came from. But when he sucks in a sharp breath and flicks his eyes towards me, I lift my chin and let the question hang between us.
The moment the words leave my lips I’m wondering how inappropriate me asking my boss such a personal question is, and whether I’ll end up having to report to HR. Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound.
“Well?” I prod.
The elevator doors open, and he hurries out as if my presence burns him, although he wriggles his fingers at me as he goes. It takes me a second to realize he’s showing me that there’s no tan line on his ring finger.
Another reference to the night we met?
“Why,” he asks roughly, before I can dwell on that, as he powers ahead towards the exit. “Are you in the market for a male?”
“Maybe, do you know anyone?” I glare at his broad back as I clip along behind him. “I’m having trouble finding someone worthy in my everyday life.”
He swings open the door with force and glares, even as he remains there holding it for me. “There’s no-one I dislike enough to punish with your company.”
“Ha ha,” I deadpan. “Where would you be without me? Up to your eyeballs in paperwork and complaints, no doubt.”
I step outside, and he snorts and turns to lock up. “I like paperwork.”
“You liking something? Now, there’s a shocker.”
He rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck to the side, before he turns towards me with a glower. “You’re not as clever as you think.”
“And you’re not as intimidating as you think.”
“Is that why you’re always squeaking when I’m near?”
My jaw drops, and a choked splutter escapes me. “I do not squeak.”
He sniggers—sniggers at me, the jerk. “Mm, is that right?”
“You know what?” I sniff and tip my chin up. “You’re unpleasant to be around. I’m going to go home and enjoy my Lunchables now, I hope you have a terrible sleep.” I turn on my heel and head across the now dark parking lot with as much dignity as I can muster, feeling decidedly childish but too annoyed to care. “Goodnight.”
Three seconds later, his heavy Hulk steps overtake me, and I’m forced to stop as he blocks my route and glares angrily down at me.
“Lunchables? You mean those ridiculously small children’s snacks? Is that what you’re eating tonight?”
I lift my chin again. If he’s going to start judging what I eat, I don’t know what I’ll do, but I doubt it’ll be good for my job prospects. “Since you run your office so poorly and I have to stay back past regular working hours, I don’t have the time or energy to cook and unpack my home, thank you.”
“You’re not eating that for dinner,” he snaps.
“You think you can control me down to what I eat, now?”
“You’re not eating that.”
I purse my lips and step around him. “Good. Night.”
The next thing I know, I feel his large, warm palms squeezing my waist, and before I register what’s happening, he’s swung me up over one of his shoulders.
“Rhokar,” I most definitely do not squeak,in outrage, struggling as I catch at my bag, so it doesn’t fall to the ground and smash my laptop to bits. “What in god’s name do you think you’re doing?”