Page 125 of Savage Suit
That was taking it a little too far.
Growling in frustration, I stalked forward. Pretending our sex hadn’t happened was harder some days.
Obviously.
Fuck off. I didn’t have an Inner Goddess. I had an Annoying Bitch.
At his door, I knocked. Annoyed, I opened his office door without his leave. My heart dropped to my toes. Of all the things I expected to see, it wasn’t Noah standing near his desk, locked in a hug with an olive-toned woman. The tips of her dark hair were dyed blue.
A gasp escaped me, and I regretted opening his door before his go-ahead.
“Oh!” I exclaimed quietly, frozen in my spot as I fought to control my irrational jealousy.
We weren’t anything more than boss and employee, so I had no business feeling jealous of the mystery woman. Taking in a breath, I tried to compose myself as they pulled apart, not wanting either of them to see how their embrace bugged me.
“Ryan,” he said, distancing himself from the woman. “You’re here.”
“Traffic was a bitch today,” I said icily, focused on the gorgeous woman he’d been hugging.
Noah followed the direction of my gaze. “Ryan, this is Soraya Morgan.”
“So, you’re Ryan Hagen,” she said by way of introduction, a smile curving her red lips. She knew me? “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Soraya,” Noah hissed, glaring at her.
She grinned, and mischief gleamed in her eyes.
“Uh, nice to meet you, too,” I muttered awkwardly, inching into the room, leaving the door ajar.
The tips of Noah’s ears reddened, and his handsome face twisted in annoyance.
Unperturbed, she stared at him and laughed before she shook her head. “I better get going, Noah. I’ll see you later.”
She strolled out of his office and closed his door, leaving the two of us alone.
“I’ll remember to knock next time before entering your office,” I said briskly.
“Your prerogative, Ms. Hagen,” he said in dismissal. He looked at his watch before glaring at me. “You’re late.”
“Who was she?” I demanded, as if I had a right to know. He’d made his feelings clear, so who he fucked was no concern of mine.
According to him.
“I told you, she’s Soraya Morgan.”
“How detailed,” I sneered, returning his glare measure-for-measure.
“Careful, Ms. Hagen,” he warned, his voice dangerously low. “Why does her identity matter so much to you?”
His asking spoke volumes.
I shrugged, playing it cool. “I’m just wondering.”
“Her identity doesn’t matter,” he snapped. “Back to the topic at hand. You’re late.”
What was wrong with me? He was right. Whether they were an item wasn’t my business. I wasn’t owed any explanation about her relationship with Noah. He and I were nothing.
“I’m sorry for my tardiness. As I said earlier, traffic was a bitch.”
