Page 19 of Guarded King

Right now, though, my focus is on Chloe as she steps into my office, her gaze immediately finding me at my desk. “Good afternoon, Mr. King.”

It’s impossible to ignore how attractive she is. My fingers twitch as, for a split second, my imagination runs wild, and I picture what it would be like to tangle them in her hair and tug just enough to make her lips part on a gasp.

Heat flashes up my spine as the image invades my mind, sending a heady rush of arousal through my veins. Curling my hands into fists, I slam that mental door shut.

“Sit down, Miss Callahan,” I say, my tone a little too harsh.

Without hesitation, and without looking even the slightest bit nervous, she sinks gracefully into the chair on the other side of my desk and balances her tablet on her knees. Either she’s unusually composed or better at hiding her nerves than most.

She squares her shoulders, as if she’s preparing to meet any challenge I might throw at her. She’s confident, I’ll give her that—far more than I’d expect from someone her age. Twenty-four. Almost fifteen years younger than me.

Not that the difference in our ages has a bearing on anything.

“I’ve had a look at your schedule for the upcoming week, and I have some suggestions,” she starts. “Would you like me to run through them with you now, or is there something else you’d like to discuss first?”

I incline my head. “You can start with the schedule.”

Nodding, she pushes her moonlit-blond hair behind her ear, revealing the slender column of her throat.

“You have back-to-back meetings tomorrow morning. I propose moving your call with the Tokyo office to Wednesday when you have more flexibility—some, anyway.”

Her eyes meet mine briefly before she quickly looks back at her screen. The first sign of nervousness I’ve seen from her since she came in. I can’t stop the corners of my mouth from quirking.

“You have a board meeting Thursday morning, so I’ve penciled in a prep session for Wednesday afternoon. I’ve also spoken to Sophie about moving the marketing presentation with Tate to Friday. She confirmed that the change won’t impact their timeline, and it means you can attend without being rushed to leave for other engagements.”

She glances up at me again, this time for longer, as if waiting for acknowledgment. I nod and leave it at that. When she realizes that’s all she’ll get from me, she wets her lips and looks down again, the faintest pink hue tinting the apples of her cheeks. Fuck if I know why, but I like that she’s not as composed as she’s trying to appear.

“Uh… as you requested, I organized a planning session with David for tomorrow afternoon. His schedule is flexible if that time doesn’t work for you.”

This time I grunt my response, my eyes narrowing. Did he flirt with her? Knowing him, I wouldn’t be surprised. The thought grates on my nerves, though I can’t say why.

“And finally,” she continues. “I confirmed your RSVP for the charity event on Friday evening. I’ve blocked out an hour that afternoon so you can prepare or unwind before the event.” Those pretty ocean eyes meet mine again. “If you’re happy with the suggested changes, I can go ahead and confirm.”

Holding her gaze, I rub my lower lip with my thumb. She’s done a good job. Considering I’ve given her barely any information to work with, it’s impressive. Her suggestions aresimilar to what I might have expected from Lena, except for one thing.

“That’s fine, Miss Callahan. But unblock Friday afternoon. I have better things to do than waste time unwinding. It’s business, not a party, whatever anyone else may think.”

She blinks. “Okay. I just thought since your week is so busy, you could use some time to?—”

“If I want some time to relax, I’ll tell you.”

She presses her lips together, likely annoyed by my brusque words. I don’t bother to apologize. If she has a problem with my tone, then this is not the right job for her. Better she finds that out now when she still has time to back out.

“Of course, Mr. King.” Her smile is tight around the edges.

“Anything else?”

She looks back at her screen, and for just a moment, not having her eyes on me feels… noticeable. Like a fleeting shadow when the sun dips behind a cloud.

“You had a lunch meeting with Mr. Sato from Sakamoto Investments scheduled for Tuesday next week, but he has to take a later flight and can’t make that time any longer. He’s requested a dinner meeting instead.”

I suppress a frown. I don’t enjoy dinner meetings, though I suppose lunch meetings aren’t much better. Dad thrived on the socializing aspects of the business—the expensive alcohol, the expensive women.

Meetings like that are less about legitimate deals and more about quid pro quo. I’d much rather sit across a boardroom table and hammer out an agreement without the pretense of enjoying the company of other rich, egotistical assholes.

But in this line of work, there’s no choice.

“Fine. Make an appointment at Magnolia’s for seven p.m. Make sure it’s a quiet table away from the main dining area.”

---