Page 38 of Isaia

Her fingers linger on the doorknob as if grounding herself before she faces me.

“Where have you been?” I keep my voice steady.

“Home.” Her tone’s steady, but those beautiful irises flash fiercely. “But I’m sure you already knew that.”

God, I love her brand of fire.

“I’m your boss now, Everly. I at least expect a text if you plan on not showing up for work.”

She bites her lower lip, glancing everywhere except at me. “I needed some time.”

“For what?”

Finally, her gaze meets mine. “It’s personal.”

“Is it about the call you got the other night?”

“My personal life has nothing to do with you, Isaia.” She crosses her arms, a physical display of how she’s shutting me out, but the only thing she’s doing is making me want her secrets so much more.

I rise from my chair, moving toward her, stopping just close enough to feel the charge between us, a current sparking in the air. “You’re my employee. Your well-being is of my concern.”

“Nothing of mine is your concern.”

“Take off that dress, and I’ll have every last bit of you begging to be my concern.”

A flush creeps over her cheeks, and damn, it’s a sight. That little slip in her control makes me want to push her further and see how deep I can make that blush go.

“You haven’t left town.” My words come out low, controlled.

“Why would I leave town?”

I study every reaction, every subtle shift. “After our conversation the other night. You knowing who I am. Me knowing who you are. I’d say you had enough reason to skip town.”

Her eyes flash, a hint of defiance in their depths. “Maybe I don’t scare easily.”

“Maybe you have an incentive to stay around.”

“You think me sticking around is more evidence that I’m spying on you?”

“Maybe.” I take a calculated step closer, leaning in. “Or maybe you’re just too curious for your own good.”

“Curious about what?”

I lick my lips slowly, my tone dropping. “Me.”

Her gaze flickers down to my mouth before snapping back up. “Yeah?” she breathes, an edge to her voice. “You think you’re that interesting?”

“I think you’re that curious.” Another step, and her back hits the wall.

Her breath hitches, and I lean close, careful not to touch her. I want her hungry. I want her mad with desire before I pull her apart.

“Thing is,” I murmur, my eyes tracing her face, “I’m not sure you’re ready for what you’re inviting in with that curiosity of yours.”

“I’m not inviting anything.”

I raise a brow, and inch closer. “Then why can’t you stop looking at me like you want me to cross every line with you.”

That delicate vein in her neck is going apeshit again. I’m affecting her, and she’s trying so fucking hard not to show it.

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