Page 45 of Prey

I didn’t stay long, although I could watch the activities for hours from his height, but I pulled myself away to knock on the office door. The men stopped dead midspeech, and the door swung open. There was Ronan, the Greek God, standing before me.

“Petra?” A cloud of his cologne peeled off him, and my knees went weak. Ah, finally, I knew what that felt like.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” I said, trying hard to avoid stuttering like a loser, but that’s what this man did to me: turned me into a trembling, stuttering fool. “I’ve got your dinners,” he said.

Oh hell, how would my body react if he tried to kiss me or something? Don’t be stupid, Annika, no, Riley, no, Petra…damn, this was a damn mess, the man would never kiss me. Look where you work. You’re surrounded by the most beautiful women in the city.

“Brilliant,” he replied. “I’ll take mine in here. We’re in a meeting.”

I took out the tray with one covered plate, and when he took it from my grasp, his fingers grazed against my skin, and I had to suppress my natural reaction of pulling away. His touch lingered and burned, and I checked my skin to see if he left a mark.

“What time are you working to?” he asked me in a warm, calm voice.

“Um,” gosh, why can’t I speak to him normally, “nine.”

“Okay, I’ll come down and see you,” he stated, and I just about fell over.

“W-hy?” I asked to clarify if he wanted to see me as a manager checking on his staff or for some other reason.

He shrugged those beautiful shoulders. “To make sure you’re doing okay,” he answered as if I should already know.

“Okay,” my words caught in my throat, unable to show my genuine emotions for fear he’d laugh in my face.

“Gimme a sec,” he said, walking into the large, smoky office that smelt of cigars and liquor, and I was caught prying by a pair of narrowed eyes.

I only saw him for a split second before Ronan blocked my view, but I assumed he was the ‘big boss’ sitting behind a large oak desk, the man everyone was terrified of. Yet there was great respect and admiration for him. Planting fear into people was aneffective way to garner respect, although I still wouldn’t want to be in a room with him alone.

Ronan took the second tray from my trolley, and when he smiled down at me, I almost levitated off the floor.

“See you soon, Pet-ra,” he crooned, then gently closed the door. He said ‘Petra’ was as if he didn’t believe it was my real name, and of course, he was right, but Betty hired me. She could tell my ID was fake, yet she called me back, so the onus was on her and me.

Walking on air, I pushed the trolley to the end of the hall and pressed the elevator button, realizing that I was smiling over a stupid, little interlude that likely meant nothing to him but everything to me. I heard a door open and closed and glanced back to find Ronan walking toward me…oh lord, please stop me from making a dick out of myself.

“Wait,” Ronan ordered as the elevator doors slid open, and my toes curled in my shoes the closer he came. Chocolate hair swept back off that chiseled face, high cheekbones, tall and fit, Adam’s apple bobbing in rhythm to my clit pulsating in my panties.

“Yeah?”

Those blue/green eyes raked over my stunned face while his mouth smiled and my heart sang. “Forgot the cutlery,” he stated, and a gush of air blew from my mouth from holding my breath.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I exclaim, feeling like a nitwit.

“That’s alright,” he said calmly as he retrieved the silver cutlery and fabric napkin I should’ve given them.

He paused to look me over for a few seconds, large hands clutching the napkins and cutlery that I imagined running over my body, enticing ecstasy from my core.

His mouth parted as those hungry eyes seemed to eat me up while voices in my head screamed at me that I was reading into his body language and interest in me. He’s my boss, and he stated he liked to get to know all of his new staff.

I waited eagerly for him to say what seemed to be on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he stepped forward, towering over me as fear thundered through my body. I clung to the serving trolley as his hand found my face, cupping it, and my cheek nestled into the healing warmth radiating from his palm.

“You have a bit of sauce on your cheek,” he informed me as his thumb wiped it off.

“Oh, that’s from the pot of pasta sauce, and some spat out when it started simmering,” I explained so he didn’t assume that I was an unclean person.

He cocked those eyebrows, then licked the sauce off his thumb, and a sigh escaped my lips. “Hm, taste good,” he crooned, stepping away. “See you soon.”

“Bye,” I called back as I pressed the elevator button again, so the doors slid open.

My cheeks burned the entire journey back down to the kitchen, and stepping into the steaming hot kitchen only exasperated the heat in my cheeks. I was too busy in the kitchen to allow myself to think of him again because I had to focus on my job. I felt the kitchen staff scrutinizing me often because I was new, so I refused to let them down.

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