Page 497 of Savage Bosses

“Is that how we’re going to do this?”

“Do what?”

“You do realize we will work closely together. You realize that people go through you to communicate with me, and the only way to guarantee our success, your success and mine, and this company’s, is to unite the two of us.”

“I won’t have a problem as long as you can agree to leave the past where it belongs,” I say, standing and smoothing my hands down my sides.

Pulling his hand over his beard and mustache draws my attention to his maturity, the chiseled jawline, deep grooves around his eyes, and the smattering of gray strands in his mustache and beard.

This handsome stranger was once a cute guy who broke my heart.

It’s a damn shame that I’m in no position to walk out and tell everyone to kiss my ass right now. I can’t keep running.

“Is that how you always show up for work?” he asks, his eyes again scrutinizing my outfit.

“Is something wrong with what I’m wearing,Mr. Charles?”

That cocky-ass smirk returns. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to get settled in my office,” I say, tugging my purse higher up my arm.

He walks from behind his desk, shoving his hands into his pockets. As he walks past me, his cologne tickles my nose, and I recall his unique natural body scent, how he snores softly when he’s tired, and how his voice sounds when he’s buried inside me.

Yes, I need to run like hell. I grab the doorknob ready to pull it open, and his hand clasps over mine. His body emanates a dangerous heat that I can’t escape, and the low growl in his throat is subdued enough to be perceived as a warning but loud enough for my attentive ears.

“Baby, you can’t keep running.”

“I stopped being your baby ten years ago.”

I jerk the door open and slam it in his face before running into my office, closing my door, and locking myself behind it.

CHAPTER 2

Ambrose

T

he charcoal grey pencil skirt Bryn’s wearing hugs her hips and ass in an affectionately intimate squeeze. The three-quarter sleeve pink blouse outlines her trim figure while her peek-a-boo cleavage peers at me from the open top button.

Damn! If I can see that much cleavage from one open button, how much is she holding back under there? She’s grown through the years in a very nice way. The thirty-five-year-old body is curvier than the twenty-two-year-old trim one she once had. It’s a damn good look on her.

“I have coffee, water, and tea here,” I say, waving my hand toward the serving table to our left. “Would you like anything?”

“No, thank you.”

Pinching my pants legs at the thigh, I sit down and cross one ankle over my knee. Bryn sits forward and crosses her legs at the ankles.

“We have a staff meeting in fifteen minutes. We’ll discuss the expectations of the new team, a few changes that I’ll be implementing, and, of course, introduce you to the team. I wanted to meet with you before the meeting to ensure we have a united front and answer any questions you may have.”

Her eyes narrow, and she sits back in her seat.

“In other words, you want to make sure that whatever changes you’re pushing their way, I’m on board to help you sell them to the team.”

I sigh and pull my hand over my face. Leaning forward and resting my elbows on my knees, I ask, “Is working for me going to be a problem for you, Bryn?”

“Brynlee.”

“Bryn.”

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