Page 49 of By His Rule

None of them worked out.

I don’t know what it is about Lorelei that makes me think that she might be the one, but Melissa is right—there is something different about her.

“She’s…feisty. Something tells me that she’s not going to take the kind of shit the others have.”

I cock my head to the side. “What are you trying to say, Melissa?”

“Oh, don’t give me that innocent puppy-dog look, Kian Callahan. It will never work with me.”

I smile innocently.

“Just give her a chance, yeah?”

“I have. I got her here.”

“Yeah, about that…”

The sound of a door opening down the hallway cuts off Melissa’s question. I’m grateful because other than spinning a line about seeing potential in Lorelei, I don’t really have a reason for stealing her from Martin.

It was a hot-headed, rash decision that I’m not sure I could fully explain to anyone. Thankfully, having an office on this floor of the building means that I don’t have to explain anything.

Well, that’s not entirely true. King likes to grill my ass for anything I do that he doesn’t agree with or understand. And I’m pretty sure he’s going to have something to say about this when he finds out.

Honestly, I’m amazed he hasn’t turned up here yet to confirm that what he’s heard is true.

There is no way that Lorelei didn’t immediately alert Tate the second she left my office earlier.

Goosebumps erupt across my body as heels clicking against the polished tiles beneath our feet echo around us.

Slipping away from Melissa’s desk, I stand beside Lorelei’s.

Her new laptop and a few messy sheets of paper are strewn across it haphazardly.

My eyes lock on the only item of hers that sits on top of the papers.

At first, I think it’s an innocent pen. But then as her footsteps get closer, I focus on the writing down the side.

I watch porn at work.

Well then…

The second she turns the corner and finds me standing here, her steps falter and a loud gasp fills the air.

“Mr. Callahan,” she whispers.

“You’re late,” I state, knowing full well that it’s bullshit.

There’s a second of silence while she decides how to react. Then her eyes narrow and a fire erupts within me, because I know which route she’s going.

Her chin lifts and she holds my eyes firmly.

“I think you’ll find that I still have a full two minutes before you require my services.”

“Two minutes before we need to leave.”

“Leave?” she balks.

“Yes. We have a meeting to attend. You are accompanying me. But before we go…” Leaning forward, I pluck the pen from her desk, holding it up for her to see. If she’s shocked by what’s on it, or my actions, then she doesn’t show it. “What is this?” I demand.

---