Page 25 of Twisted Truths

Pressing my hands against the desk, I lean toward him. “Why’d you hire her specifically?” Did he somehow know that she’d get under my skin?

“She didn’t seem like she’d take your shit. That’s what I liked about her.” He shrugs.

He’s not wrong. Ariana barely bats an eye when I’m a dick to her. Either that or she comes back at me, but always with a smile on her face and always in a way that’s not quite direct enough for me to call her out.

“Exactly. My assistant should have respect for me. She should not be constantly challenging me.”

“Is that what you call it when a woman doesn’t let you put her in her place?”

Anabelle’s voice from behind me causes me to straighten and face her.

“That’s not what this is about,” I tell her.

“Isn’t it though?” She rises off her chair and makes her way to Asher, bending to give him a chaste kiss.

He tugs her into his lap. Their display of such easy affection makes my chest tighten, knowing it’s not something I’m ever destined for.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” Anabelle says. “Maybe Ariana should dine with us in the dining room rather than always eating alone in her room.”

I narrow my eyes at my sister-in-law. “That’s not happening.”

Asher chuckles. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say there’s some other reason you’re so worked up about this woman.”

“Fuck off.” I turn and start out of his office. “Thanks for nothing.”

I prowl from his office and make my way to the east wing. When I arrive at my office, I stand at the threshold, watching as Ariana bends over, fussing with the shredder beside her desk.

It takes everything in me to bite back the groan that wants to crawl up my throat because she’s wearing a tight skirt that hits above her knee. Now that she’s bending over, her shapely legs are on display, as is that perfect ass of hers.

Drawing in a deep breath, I step past the threshold and don’t say a word as I make my way over to my desk. It’s as if I can feel her attention shift from what she’s doing to me. It feels like a caress with a light hand over the skin on my neck, and I’d bet good money on the fact that she’s eyeing the tattoo there.

“Did you pull all the files for the Enersync buyout like I asked?” I use my mouse to turn on my computer screen and type in my password. Only once I’m logged in do I turn my gaze to her.

Her luscious red hair is pulled away from her face, and it somehow makes her look even younger than her twenty-four years. She’s fresh-faced and exudes innocence today, which unfortunately only makes me want her more.

Ariana stares at me for a beat, almost as though she’s waiting for me to say something else. Something about me putting my hands on her yesterday morning? Not happening. If she’s smart, she’ll read that I’m going to play this like nothing ever happened, and she will too.

She seems to reach that conclusion and clears her throat, then lifts her chin a bit. “I did. Uploaded them to the cloud in their own folder. If you want anything printed, let me know. The emails that need your attention are on the corner of your desk, and your two o’clock Zoom meeting had to move it up to one, so I changed that on your calendar.”

I don’t bother saying thanks, just turn back to my computer.

“Did you want to dictate your response to the emails?” she asks after a moment.

“No, I’ll respond to them myself.” I don’t trust myself to be any closer to her and not jump over my desk and pounce on her.

My phone buzzes with a text, and I see that Mr. Smith sent me a message.

No luck tracking down the girl from the beach. Seems to be a dead end. I can keep trying if you want.

My mouth twists to the side. I’m not even sure what I hope to accomplish by tracking down the woman who saved my life. But I can’t get the vision of that locket hanging in front of my face out of my head, or that singing, though I’m not sure it’s even hers. But something keeps tugging on me to find out who she is.

But what the hell am I going to do? If Mr. Smith can’t find her, she can’t be found.

Never mind then. Call it off. I’ll send your payment today.

Setting down my phone, I push what happened on the beach from my mind. I don’t need something else on my mind. It’s best to let it go.

We work quietly for a couple of hours, and I stifle a groan of frustration when I receive a text from a colleague about an event I’m supposed to attend next week. One that Ariana will have to attend with me. I wish I could blow it off, but it’s imperative for Voss Enterprises that I be there to represent our interests and shore up support for our position.

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