Page 20 of His to Command

He flinches almost imperceptibly at my crudeness, then holds up the paper bag. "You didn't eat lunch. I brought dinner."

Of course he knows I skipped lunch. Of course he's tracked my eating habits. I should be horrified. Instead, my traitorous stomach growls.

"Hudson, why are you here?" I cross my arms, trying to establish some boundary, however flimsy.

"Because you ran." He sets the bag on my kitchen counter, starts opening cabinets like he belongs here. "Nobody runs from me."

"I'm not running. I'm... processing."

He finds plates, sets them on my tiny dining table. "Process while you eat."

The domestic normalcy of Hudson Roth unpacking takeout containers in my kitchen is so surreal I almost laugh. He's wearing a suit that probably costs more than three months of my rent, standing in my IKEA-furnished apartment, plating what appears to be perfectly seared salmon and roasted vegetables.

I sit because standing feels too confrontational, too charged. He sits opposite me, loosens his tie slightly. It's the most casual I've seen him outside of... intimate moments.

"Eat," he commands softly.

I take a bite. It's delicious, of course. Everything in Hudson's orbit is the best, the most exclusive, the most perfect.

"Why did you leave that note?" he asks after I've taken several bites. His own food remains untouched.

I put down my fork, steadying myself. "Because this is insane, Hudson. A week ago I was a marketing assistant. Now I'm some made-up executive having sex with the CEO in office hours."

"Special Projects Director isn't made up. Your work yesterday on the Anderson merger saved us millions."

"That's not the point! You can't just... rearrange your entire company because you want to sleep with me."

His eyes darken. "Is that what you think this is? Sex?"

The raw emotion in his voice catches me off guard. "What else could it be? You don't even know me."

"I know everything about you." His voice drops, intimate, certain. "I know you hide your intelligence because you're afraid of standing out. I know you wear clothes two sizes too big because you think your curves invite the wrong attention. I know you bite your lip when you're thinking hard, touch your left collarbone when you're nervous, and make a small sound in the back of your throat when you come."

Heat floods my face, my neck, spreads down my chest. How can he see so much?

"That's... observation. Physical details. Not knowing me."

"What else should I know, Robin?" He leans forward, elbows on my small table. "Tell me. I want all of it."

The intensity in his eyes makes me look away. "Why? Why me? I'm nobody special."

"That's the first lie you've told me." His hand shoots out, captures mine before I can pull away. "You're extraordinary. And you'd know that if you ever stopped hiding."

Something breaks loose in my chest—anger, frustration, fear. "I'm hiding? You're the one who built a billion-dollar fortress around yourself! Who keeps everyone at a calculated distance! Who doesn't have a single personal photograph in that sterile penthouse!"

Instead of bristling at my outburst, he looks... pleased. Like he's finally getting what he wants. "Yes. Now we're talking truth."

I pull my hand away, standing abruptly. "Truth? You want truth? The truth is I'm terrified, Hudson. Not of you—of this. Of whatever is happening between us. It's too fast, too intense. You've taken over my life in a week. My job, my career, my body. What will be left of me if I keep giving in?"

He stands too, coming around the table, backing me against my kitchen counter. Not touching, but close enough that I feel the heat radiating from his body.

"Everything," he says, voice rough with emotion. "Everything will be left, Robin. I don't want to erase you. I want to see you. All of you. The parts you show the world and the parts you hide."

"And then what?" My voice catches. "When you've seen everything? When you get bored?"

Understanding dawns in his eyes. "You think this is temporary. A conquest."

I look down, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze. "Why wouldn't it be? Men like you don't stay with women like me."

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