Page 6 of Forbidden Daddy
Something dark and dangerous flickered across his features. The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.
"No?" His voice went silky smooth, which somehow made it more terrifying. "Then who was the intended recipient of your... confession?"
"It doesn’t matter."
"It matters to me." His grip on my hair tightened just enough to make my scalp tingle. "Who were you thinking about when you wrote those words, Ms. James?"
The question hung between us like a loaded gun. I could lie. Should lie. Tell him it was meant for Jeremy; maintain the story that this was all just a terrible mistake.
But the way he was staring at me—like he could see straight through to my soul—made the words stick in my throat.
"Tell me," he commanded softly, and there was something in his tone that suggested this wasn’t a request.
I couldn’t. Couldn’t admit that every fantasy I’d typed had been about him. That Jeremy had been nothing more than a poor substitute for the man I really wanted. That I’d been harboring inappropriate thoughts about my boss for months, and wine had just loosened my inhibitions enough to put them into words.
Roman seemed to read my silence like an open book. His mouth curved into that dangerous, almost-smile again, the one that made my stomach flip.
"I see," he murmured, and somehow, those two words contained volumes of meaning. "How very interesting."
He straightened slowly, finally putting some distance between us, and I could breathe again. Sort of. My pulse was still racing, my skin still burning from his touch, my body still humming with awareness.
Roman walked around his desk with casual grace, settling into his leather chair like nothing earth-shattering had just happened. Like he hadn’t just shattered my composure and rebuilt it in his image.
But I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers drummed once against his thigh before he stilled them. Whatever this was, it was affecting him too.
"I want to hear you say it, Ms. James, but keep in mind that you only have one chance to tell me the truth," he said, leaning back in his chair. His voice had returned to that smooth, professional tone, but there was an undercurrent of something darker now. Something that made the air between us crackle with electricity.
The pause stretched between us, loaded with everything unsaid and everything implied. My heart hammered against my ribs as I waited for him to continue, knowing that whatever came next would change everything between us.
His lips curved into the barest hint of a smile—dangerous and knowing and completely devastating.
"Was that message meant for me—or was I just lucky enough to receive it?"
3
CASSIE
Icouldn’t sit there another second listening to him recite my fantasies back to me in that sinful voice. The humiliation burned through my veins like acid, mixing with something else—something hot and dangerous that I refused to acknowledge.
I shot to my feet, the leather chair spinning behind me as I turned toward the door. "I can’t do this."
My face was on fire. My hands were shaking. Every word he’d spoken hung in the air between us like smoke, and I needed to get out before I did something even more stupid than accidentally sexting my boss.
"I’m sorry," I said without looking back at him. "I’ll submit my resignation this afternoon."
I made it three steps before his voice stopped me cold.
"Running away, Ms. James?"
I froze, my hand inches from the door handle. Something in his tone—dark amusement mixed with challenge—made my spine straighten despite my embarrassment.
"I’m not running," I said, still facing the door. "I’m being professional."
His laugh was low and rough. "Professional? After what you wrote to me last night?"
I whirled around, anger finally overriding my humiliation. "That wasn’t meant for you!"
Roman had moved from behind his desk and now stood in the center of his office, hands casually shoved into his pockets. But there was nothing casual about the way he was looking at me—like a predator who’d just cornered his prey and was deciding which part to devour first.
