Page 12 of Crush

I got the giggles.

Mia had a great sense of humour and was probably theonlyperson who could make me laugh.

After I’d attempted to put out her recent fire, I ended the call and walked into the cabin where my temporary desk was.

The project was still in the early stages of development and several storage containers had been turned into offices. Max’schamberswere above the one where I had been dumped and you accessed it by steps that ran externally against the unit. I could always guess when he was in a mood from the sound of his footsteps. Max liked to pace around when he was upset and most days you could hear him stomping.

Each container had large windows to allow you to see what activity there was on site. I was only allowed certain places as I had yet to be given the appropriate PPE. I knew my wings had been clipped on purpose as Max didn’t really want me there. I’d moaned to him the other day about being stuck at my desk all the time; hence him offering me the opportunity to front questions that day. Likethathad done me any favours.

The project was only in its second phase of construction. We were building a bar to connect to an existing hotel and I found the process interesting. Although I’d only been there a few weeks, I’d learnt loads. And fromhim, of all people,Maxim James Hunter. Not that I would tellhimthat, his ego was already the size of London.

As I pushed back into the horrendously uncomfortable chair, I went through my phone, swiping away and smiling at a few TikToks.

“Is that thing glued to your hand?” came a familiar voice. I guiltily lowered the offending device as Max strode into my office. He looked larger than life in the small space and as he approached my desk with a not-too-happy expression, I wished I wasn’t sitting down. It made me feel vulnerable and on edge.

I mentally prepared myself for a showdown as he towered over me. My tongue was my only protection against him. I was a bitch on purpose to keep the wolf at bay. Although he tried to hide it, the attraction between us ran both ways.

“I suppose you’ve brought the procurement plan so you can gloat?” I questioned.

“You think I’m that petty?”

“Youreallywant to pull at that thread?” I replied, keeping my tone bland.

My spine stiffened as he perched on the edge of my desk close to my laptop. A device which looked out of place due to it being surrounded by my make-up bag, face cream and a couple of bottles of perfume.

The sweet air which surrounded my workspace started to become choked by Max’s masculine aura.

From his body language, I could read he was in attack mode, his usual mood around me. Over the last few weeks, I had got used to how far I could go with him when in said mood. I’d seen Max laying into a couple of sub-contractors that had fucked up last week and the only way to describe his temper would be nuclear.

A muscle jumped in my jaw, “What do you want, Max?”

He dashed a hand down his face. He could glare all he wanted to, but I could see he was tired. Running such a large organisation took it out of a person, as did the constant partying and womanising I knew he participated in regularly. Itried to block out Mia’s gossip that she’d been told he was extremely well-hung. I suppose he would be when he was huge everywhere else.

Max Hunter was a bit of an enigma. I was surprised he had enough hours in the day, running a large company as well as an abundance of hookups. He also juggled a serious bromance with his best friend Gabriel aka Gabe Knight. I had heard of the Knights before meeting Max and they were not a family one trifled with having connections with some dodgy people, so I’d heard.

They were also a big deal in the legal world and Gabriel himself was a highly decorated law student. Why anyone would choose a career covering up other people’s fuck ups was beyond me. I’d only met him once and he was OK. The boys were joined at the hip though and so their relationship was anything but healthy.

Max was staring down his nose at me with an odd expression, wonderment possibly?

“Well, are you going to tell me what you want?” I repeated the question as I hated being left to stew. That knocked him out of his daze.

“You,” he replied flatly.

My pulse twitched, “Sorry?” I suddenly felt appallingly nervous.

His whisky eyes gleamed, “To do somebloodywork.”

I felt a ripple of irritation. The man was such a slave driver and loved bossing people around. Luckily, I managed to rein in my petulant outburst.

“Iamworking,” I said calmly enough, pulling my chair further up to the desk and attempting to log on to my computer, which I failed to do. Drat. The message to say I had one more try came up. I gave in and glared up at Max. His looming presence was the reason I couldn’t remember mybloodypassword.

“You can wipe the sour look off your face. You haven’t even logged on yet. You’ve spent the morning flirting, drinking coffee and chatting with your friends from the looks of things,” Max scolded.

I scowled. The guy had a point but I would be damned if I’d apologise. He wasn’t my boss, not really. He was showing me the ropes as a favour to my father. I wasn’t even getting paid.

“Well, you clearly don’t have anything better to do if you have the time to spy on me,” I pointed out tartly, pressing the enter key on the keyboard of my laptop a little too hard. His gaze flicked to the monitor’s blank screen.

“I wasn’tspyingon you. It’s my job to monitor what my employees are doing.” His expression couldn’t have got any smugger. The man had an answer to everything.

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