Page 18 of Forbidden Desire

I would rather do anything else than be trapped in this room with him. It already feels like all the air has been sucked out, but I do as he says and gently close the door behind me.

“Please, take a seat,” he says, gesturing to the chair across from him.

I sit down, trying to ignore that only a desk separates us, and the familiar scent of his cologne travels toward me like some sort of cruel reminder of how good it smells on his bare skin. I force myself to look up at him and see he’s already looking at me, his brown eyes dancing excitedly and his mouth turned up in a knowing smile.

Shit. He remembers. Of course, he does. I was stupid to think otherwise. I wonder if our night together has the same hold on him as it has on me. If it had, then he wouldn’t have left me alone in his apartment the next morning. The thought makes me frown, and I don’t return the smile he’s giving me, as if we are old friends.

I see his smile falter as his eyes drop to my mouth. They linger there for a moment, and I feel as if he’s running one of his long fingers up my spine.

“It’s good to see you,” he says. “I wanted to apologize for not speaking with you sooner. It’s been a little hectic since—”

“Since you pushed George out,” I interrupt him.

I’m surprised by my boldness, but if I’m going to get fired, then I may as well tell him what’s on my mind. Someone should.

“George left on his own accord,” says Marco, leaning back in his chair. He doesn’t look angry, yet more so amused.

“Only because you kept coming after him like the shark you are.”

“The old man wanted to retire. I just gave him a gentle nudge.”

I roll my eyes.

“Look, I also wanted to apologize for what happened between us. I shouldn’t have left you that morning, but—”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say.

He opens his mouth to say something, but decides against it. Maybe if I pretend like nothing ever happened between us, then he will too. I would rather just skip all this awkwardness and get to the part where he fires me.

Marco picks up a folder in front of him and opens it, reading over a few things. I let my eyes wander his stupidly perfect face just for a moment. I wonder if he’s enjoying this slow torture, as I tap my foot impatiently against the carpet. He looks up and I quickly avert my gaze, as if he’s not the most beautiful thing in this room, or all of Manhattan for that matter.

“I’m impressed by your file,” he says, patting the folder in front of him.

“You’ve been keeping tabs on me?” I ask sharply.

“I have to on all the employees here.”

“The ones that are left…” I mutter.

He ignored my remark.

“I know you care a lot about this paper, and you’ve been here since the very beginning.” He’s reading from the folder, as if these aren’t things I shared with him the night we met.

“HR has nothing but positive remarks to say about you,” he continues. “Which is why I want you to work alongside me.”

My mouth falls open as I look at him in shock. This is not how I thought this little meeting was going to go. I already had my own cardboard box ready to go. I can’t find any words to say and continue to look at him like a gaping fish, which he thankfully ignores.

“I want someone to help me with the acquisition. Someone who knows the ins and outs of the paper. Someone who can be my right-hand man… er woman.” He smiles at me.

“But my column,” I say, coming up with some excuse to turn it down.

“Oh, you’ll still write each week. I encourage it, and I’ll make sure you have the time to get your word count in.”

“B–but,” I stammer, not sure what excuse I’m going to come up with next.

“It’s only temporary.” He waves me off like it’s no big deal. “I just need you for this transition phase.”

I sit back in my seat and shake my head, still not wrapping my head around what he’s saying. He wants me to stay, and on top of that he wants me to work alongside him. I’ve spent the past week carefully avoiding him for a reason, and now I won’t be able to. I don’t know if I can handle this, even if it’s just temporary, as he says.

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