Page 60 of The Grand Duel

She must notice, her cheeks flushing a pinkish hue. “Oh god, I’m not hitting on you. You’re lovely to look at but definitely not my genre of man.”

I clear my throat and readjust in my chair, leaning forward a little. “Not your genre of man?”

She shrugs as if guilty. “You’re a little stiff.”

Stiff?

She thinks I’m stiff?

That’s not what her body was telling me when it was trembling beneath me.

“You’re a fair bit older than me, too.”

Fuck. I swallow around the uneasiness in my throat. “How do you know my age?”

“Igoogledyou. I can’t remember exactly, but it was thirty-something.”

Of course, she did.

I wet my lips, rubbing my hands together under the table. “How old are you?” I ask, already knowing the answer but not wanting the conversation to end.

She’s probably thinking what a dick I am to have forgotten her age from her application.

“Twenty-four.”

I nod, raking my teeth over my bottom lip, not being able to leave it alone, as I try to gauge how disgusted she would be to find out she’s crawled over my lap and sucked my cock.

God, I shouldn’t have these thoughts in my head.

I should have told Bronwyn no the second she told me that she wasn’t twenty-five.

I never should have bent the rules.

“We should have ice cream for lunch every day. You’re much chattier with a spoon in your hand.” She keeps spooning my ice cream into her mouth. “Unless you do actually have plans to fire me at our out of hours meeting later…”

Fuck.

Fuck.

“Look, Lissie?—”

“I can shut up.” She nods, getting serious. “I can shadow you, take notes, not yap on like I did all day yesterday. I get it’s annoying, and I did try to take a hint the first time you showed your displeasure, but in fairness, you gave me nothing,and I was lost. I think the lack of conversation in the beginning left me unsure what our working relationship would be like. Communication is huge for me and a downfall of mine if I don’t get it. You didn’t set the ground rules, and I’ve tripped and fell on the ones we’ve found already, but Ineedthis job.” She swirls the ice cream in the bottom of her bowl, waiting for me to say something. “I can shut up,” she promises with a small smile.

Although I don’t think the woman knows the meaning of shutting up.

I draw a long breath into my lungs and let it out on a sharp exhale.

You’re not my genre of man.

I rub at the burn in the centre of my chest. “I already said I wasn’t going to fire you, Lissie.”

“Then what was it you wanted to discuss?”

I swallow, looking deep into her big brown eyes freely, the gold-like flecks in them capturing me.

She’s a pretty thing Lissie Elton.

I’m not sure how I feel about that.

---