Page 12 of Never Say Yes To Your Boss

“Oh, it is,” Hans says smoothly without looking up, ignoring my accusatory tone completely. “It most certainly is.”

I swipe a trickle of water out of my eyes, pushing my wet hair back. Now that Darius has regained his breath and cleared the water off his own face, I really have to try hard not to notice what a thing of beauty he is. He basically defines the term hyper-masculine. Like holy Hannah, abs much? He’s so cut that he looks like he was carved from a diamond. Because they cut anything, right? He’s solid, with chiseled abs, hard pecs, and nicely bronzed skin. There’s a smattering of dark hair aroundhis naval and disappearing under his swim shorts, but that’s it. He either doesn’t grow hair naturally on his chest, or he gets expensive man waxes, and okay, that shouldn’t be hot, but it’s so, so hot. Not that I have anything against chest hair. Bear-skin rug dudes are fine, too. It’s just that this way, I can see all the droplets of water standing out on his very nice skin, his very nice muscles, and his very hard nipples.

Oh lord, I did not just go there.

“I’m sorry I interrupted your exercise session.” I can feel myself fizzling to a crisp of mortification on the spot. And what’s crispy? Bacon. I’d be extra well done if I was a piece of bacon. Or like tissue paper. Wait, no, newspapers. That’s crispy. I’d be the perfectly printed kind. “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought a swim would be nice.”

“Was your room too cold? Too hot? Was the bed not comfortable? Was there something not to your liking?”

“Goodness, no, it was fine. It’s just…a lot to process. My mind won’t shut off, and it’s a full moon.” I point up like the moon is right there in the room with us. The ceiling here isn’t glass, but it is painted with vines and a fake sun. “It’s nice in here,” I say with a cough to cover further embarrassment. “Really nice. I like it. You’ve done great things with the place.”

“Yes, well…I should probably head to bed. I could use a shower.”

“And some icing down,” Hans remarks smartly.

Fuck with a side of double fuck. “I see that I’ll have to up my saving-a-drowning-person skills. I’ve never had to do that before.”

“You could have asked me,” Hans chimes in again in that same bored tone. “If you were concerned I wasn’t doing my job, you could have come and listed your demands.”

“Right, while he drowned.”

“No. I would have informed you that he was doing just fine. I would never let D drown.”

“You call him D? Your boss?”

Hans ruffles the magazine, turning a page as water sluices off of him and puddles beneath the chair. “No English,” he quips, effectively shutting me right up.

“He calls me D, yes,” Darius groans. “Anyway, you can keep swimming if you want. Enjoy the pool.”

“Actually, I think I’ll go shower and head to bed too. I’ve probably had enough excitement for the night. And also, um…done enough.” I duck my head because I’m not sure how much more of this I can take. “I’ll, uh, see you at breakfast tomorrow? Or lunch or something?” I’m not sure how meals work here, and I shouldn’t just assume. I’ve made a bunch of bad assumptions already. And now I feel tremendously silly.

Darius gets up, though it’s with a great deal of difficulty, and he’s walking a little funny, kind of a crab-like goat shuffle. I have my head bowed, so I’m totally unprepared for the brush of warm fingers on my shoulder. It’s a sensual touch, but probably not for him. For him, it’s just meant to be reassuring. But still, I nearly fall sideways, straight into the pool. My heart jackhammers worse than when I thought I was trying to save someone from drowning, and we were both drowning, appealing to the neon palm tree with sunglasses to pleasedo something.

“Thank you. What you did was very kind.”

“Nutting you was kind?” I wince. I can’t believe that, on top of everything else, I just said that.

Darius and Hans both snort in amusement at the same time. I whip my head up. “That was an accident, and it started with noble intentions.”

“Oh boy, here we go.” Hans drops his magazine, walks over, and wraps his arm around Darius’ waist, supporting him. Because, yeah, he can barely walk and probably needs an icepackfor the damage I just did to his babymakers. I watch them walk away together, and as they disappear behind a palm tree, I swear I hear Hans say, “Do you need me to carry you, wrap you up in my arms like a baby, and rock you sweetly?”

“Remind me to fire your ass in the morning,” Darius growls in response, so I’m sure I heard right. “Just as soon as I can walk and think properly again.”

I drop my head into my hands after they’re gone.

What a hell of a first night, and it’s not even over yet.

Chapter six

Darius

Breakfast and lunch didn’t happen. The thing about running an empire is that, sometimes, it’s a full-time job, and it means sitting through conference call after conference call and getting swamped with emails. I had Hans tell Everleigh that breakfast and lunch could be found in the dining room or the kitchen, her choice, but that, either way, it would be served and ready for her whenever she wanted it. He, of course, gave her my regrets about not being able to join, probably in a way in which only Hans could, and promised her I’d be available for dinner. It’s her first full day at the house, and since it’s like a palace and easy to get lost in—it’s also kind of gothic and not her home on top of it all—I wanted her to feel like she had the freedom to explore, but I also didn’t want her to be overwhelmed. I wanted to ease her into her new life, but work duty called.

“I think that’s the last one.” I scroll through the emails I flagged as ones that couldn’t wait, but all of them have been opened and answered. Documents requiring my signaturehave been printed and scanned, and multiple crises have been avoided. I also sent an email to my baby bro, who is the face of the company, giving him some advice about work and life in general, but so far, that’s gone unanswered.

“Did Bastard Bradford respond yet?” Hans is peeling an apple in his usual chair. The way he’s doing it, the peel is all coming off in one giant snake.

“Don’t call him that. He’s not a bastard.”

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