Page 27 of Sutton's CEO

My head tipped back instinctively, and I hardened my eyes. My words were directed toward Nico, but my gaze never left Mark’s face.

“Thank you, Nico. You have been a lifesaver. I wouldn’t have known which direction to turn without your eye for style.”

Nico grinned widely. “Not all of your instincts were horrible, darling, just most of them.”

Momentarily distracted, I turned back to Nico with a laugh, “I know, no tie-dye!”

Nico shuddered. “I can’t imagine where you got the notion that it would be appropriate outside of summer camp.”

He rubbed his arms as if warding off a chill or a horde of tie-dye apparel.

“No worries, my friend,” I said as I leaned in conspiratorially, “I will protect you from the fluorescent colors of the world.”

Nico and I dissolved into laughter, but Mark only seemed to stiffen and withdraw further. After an uncomfortable moment, Nico excused himself and I began to lug the bags that we had brought into Mark’s guest bedroom.

With a grunt, Mark began to help me with the things that Nico had left behind. Dumping everything on the bed, I began to pull things out of the bags. I noticed when Mark stilled as I carried a handful of the softest silk panties known to womankind out of a bag. Nico had told me about them, saying that I would never want to go back to what I had been wearing.

He had sent over a pair this morning along with a note stating that we would be getting the rest of my lingerie while we were out today. When I slipped them on after my shower, I’d have sworn that they felt like I was wearing nothing at all.

Mark cleared his throat. “I can just leave you to it, then.”

I looked up. “What did you want to do for dinner tonight?”

I was hungry, that was all. I wasn’t fishing for offers or trying to play house with the man. But I could tell that he wasn’t taking it as innocently as it had been intended.

“We will look for a suitable place for you to live as soon as possible,” he began, and I felt each word like a soft blow. “Now that you have your wardrobe and hygiene sorted it, shouldn’t be a problem to get you into something suitable.”

My fucking hygiene sorted. What the actual fuck?

Mark was acting like a total douchebag. I had zero patience to deal with that bullshit.

“I can go to a hotel,” I said through clenched teeth. “I am sorry if I got in your way.”

Mark frowned. “No, there isn’t any reason for it.”

I felt my blood heat. “The last thing I would want is to be a burden to you,Mr. Williams.” I may have drawn out his name in a particularly snarky fashion. But he started it.

“I asked you to call me Mark,” his voice was deceptively low, and I knew that I had gotten to him.

Was it petty of me? Of course it was, but I hated that he always seemed to have the upper hand, and just when I decided he isn’t an arrogant ass he turns around and says things like ‘hygiene sorted.’

“Look, I don’t want to argue with you,” I lied through my teeth. I was itching for a fight, something to take the edge off of all this pent-up emotion between us. I was scared that I would either break down and stab him with something or kiss the shit out of him.

The first option scared me less, and that is saying something. I was fumbling with the drawer that I had just opened when I felt him right against my back. I wanted to bark out something akin topersonal space. But the truth was that it felt nice—calming even.

His deep voice had me thankful that I wasn’t facing him, because my eyes closed at the sound rolling over my body.

“I didn’t mean to be insulting,” he said gruffly.

“I am not offended,” I muttered back as I finally managed to slam the door shut again. I tried to maneuver around him, but he wasn’t having it.

“Then why won’t you look at me?”

Because I don’t want you to see the truth in my eyes. Because I spend half my time in your presence feeling like I am less than a piece of shit underneath your shoe.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t trust my voice not to betray the emotion that I was feeling. This time I bumped him with my body, and he moved away, but we both knew he didn’t want to.

“I’m—” He cleared his throat. “I am sorry.”

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