He flops his ear over my leg and I scratch his head. His eyes close as I continue to stroke him. I look back at Eric.

“Let’s get you fed and make breakfast,” I say quietly as I slip out of bed. I start toward the door when hands circle my waist and I yelp. Barkley barks and jumps off the bed.

Eric spins me around carefully. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Breakfast?” I state but it comes out as a question.

“You should be resting,” he says with a pointed look.

“I’m fine. I feel much better today,” I say as I roll my ankle. It twinges a little but it’s not bruised and I can step on it. So whatever I did there was very minimal.

Eric’s hand comes up and feels my head. I wince when he finds the knot.

“That’s not OK. I’ll make you breakfast if you’re hungry,” he offers.

“Eric…you’ve already done so much…” I trail off as I look down. I hate that I can’t take care of myself.

His finger presses under my chin until I’m forced to meet his gaze. “Has no one ever taken care of you, little catastrophe?”

I shrug. “No, not really. I don’t want to be a burden.”

His eyes darken and he looks mad. I instinctively try to pull away but his grip tightens, holding me in place. “I will never hurt you, Ariana. I promise you that. And whoever made you feel like you’re a burden…” He trails off and takes a deep breath. “You arenota burden.”

I swallow. “I…” But words fail me. I don’t know how to respond. No one has ever spoken to me like this.

“Let’s get you showered. I’ll go grab clean clothes from the guesthouse. You can stay here today, so I can keep an eye on you again, OK?”

“It’s really not?—”

His finger comes over my lips, cutting me off. “That’s non-negotiable.”

I give him a pointed look and he chuckles. “What am I going to do with you?” he says softly.

I shrug again. “Make me breakfast?” I suggest, my lips curving up into a smile.

He leans forward as if he wants to kiss me but then stops short. “I can do that,” he replies and then lets me go, stepping back as if I’m made of lava. Maybe he doesn’t feel what I feel?

“There are clean towels in there. I’ll set your clothes on the dresser,” he says as he walks around me and pats his thigh. “Come on, Barkley.” Barkley comes over and follows him downstairs.

I turn and walk into the adjoining bathroom. How many bathrooms does the house have? Even by my father’s standards, this isn’t a small home. I run a finger along a white fluffy towel. I look in the mirror and gasp. My red, curly hair is a mess. I look more pale than normal and my eye makeup is smeared.

I take off my dirty clothes and walk into the enormous shower with a glass door. I let the water run over me as I wash my hair and then my face. As I’m soaping my body, I hear noise outside the door. I realize I didn’t shut it all the way.

“Your clothes are right here,” Eric’s voice says.

“Thank you,” I reply as I run my hands over my body wishing they were Eric’s. My hand massages my breast as I look out at the gap in the door. Eric’s standing there, staring at me. His eyes are dark again but in a completely different way. He looks possessive. I run my hand from my breast down my belly. His eyes trail after it. I’ve never had an erotic moment in my life, but this…this is it. I don’t know what possesses me to do it, but I run my fingers down between my legs. His eyelids close a little as he watches me feel myself. I’m so close but I need him. I need his fingers between my legs. Just when I’m about to verbalize that, he turns.

“Sorry…I’ll be downstairs with your breakfast when you…finish. Just let me know and I can bring it up to you,” he stammers as he walks away, leaving me wanting and needy. I don’t bother finishing because it wouldn’t be good anyhow. I don’t know what it feels like for a man to touch me, but I know it’s gotta be way better than what I can do to myself.

I turn off the shower, and as I’m drying off and putting on my clothes, the realization of what just happened begins permeating my thoughts. That was hot as fuck! And I liked it. I’m not even really embarrassed. I’m…turned on? Yes, yes I am. Shit. I have the super hots for Eric and I don’t even think I care that he’s my boss, hell, that might make it even more hot. I’m so screwed!

I grab my phone from where Eric must have set it on the nightstand and text Katia.

Me: SOS! I need to talk! STAT!

My phone rings.

“I think I want my boss,” I state.