Page 6 of Obsession

I thought of all the old panes of glass I worked with, the renovations I’d specialized in, the salvaged glass that I used to make my stained-glass windows. “Because it’s what I do. I fix the ugly and make it beautiful. In this case…the world around you so you can do what you love.”

He stood, and I had to fight to keep still. He was way too close. Close enough that I could smell mint and citrus with a hint of spice. And when the silk blend of his pants whispered across the side of my hand, I closed my eyes.

What the hell was I doing?

He walked to the door and opened it.

Obviously, he was showing me the door. Of course he was. I was insane to think I could waltz in here to talk to him, let alone con my way into a job. And for what? A chance to show him I was worthy of my grandmother’s house?

If I sold my entire inventory of glass, I might be able to make six months of payments on a mortgage. If I was lucky. Maybe I should just come clean and ask him.

I scrubbed my palms down my thighs and stood. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Carson.” I had to pass him to get out the door. My skin prickled and nerves jittered the closer I got to him.

Everything about my trip into Boston had been a bad idea. This was just the topper. Having him near me was like playing with my patina mix on copper—too volatile and leaving me a moment away from ruin.

I lifted my chin and had to turn to the side to get through the door.

The customized doorway should have been more than enough room for both of us if not for his extremely wide shoulders. I was very tiny. Okay, not very, but compared to him, I felt like a child—with not-so-childlike reactions.

Yep. Time to go.

I couldn’t look at him. Not now. I wasn’t sure I could deal with those arctic eyes buried under what should only be warmth. Who created anything gold and green only to end up with frostbite?

Okay, I really needed to get a grip.

My eye-line was level with his tie. Now that I was this close, little details came clear. The perfect knot was slightly askew as if it had been loosened in frustration. When he’d come out of the other room, he’d been a different man. Tired and almost…defeated. Then there was that alarmingly interesting flash of sepia ink under the staid layer of businessman.

The guy was the definition of a dichotomy.

Okay, wow, I needed sleep. Since my grandmother had died, I’d been spending endless hours in my workshop, only falling onto the old twin mattress I kept in the corner when my mind was too numb to work.

I needed to blink out and gather my resources again. It was even more apparent now since I was having very warm feelings toward a burgundy tie and the man who had swept in and stolen my house.

The heat coming off of him was obviously melting my brain.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at seven.” His voice followed me out the door.

I stopped and turned on my heel. “Pardon?”

“Probationary. I’ll have a packet on your desk by morning with your salary and benefits. If that works for you, then we’ll see how it goes.”

“You’re hiring me?” Was that a squeak in my voice? And did he saybenefits?

“Yes, Ms. Copeland. You’re the only applicant the least bit interesting. Let’s see if you continue to be after an hour.”

“Gee, thanks.” I slammed my molars together.Shoot.

But he didn’t say anything more. And the door shut in my face.

Chapter Three

It was a very good thing I’d already been prepared to beg, because I suddenly wanted to smash the window of his door with my heel. Of course, I hadn’t been exactly the most professional of interview candidates.

Yet I still had the job.

As assistant for one of the most infamous billionaires in Boston.

Holy shit.

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