Page 57 of Boss of Me
My back stiffens defensively. “I only had one glass.”
“Three,” he corrects. “You had the first glass with my brother. Your next two glasses were chugged down between bites of lobster as you huddled in the shadows during dinner.”
I place my empty glass in the sink, then turn to face him. He’s leaning back against the refrigerator, arms folded across his wide chest. His hair is messy and his eyes are glittering sapphires piercing into me.
I feel compelled to explain myself. “Mrs. Calder had me running around before the party, so I didn’t get a chance to eat dinner. As for the champagne?—”
“You were working,” he interrupts. “I don’t pay you to drink on the job.”
A guilty flush heats my cheeks. “Sorry,” I mutter, feeling chastened. “It won’t happen again.”Jerk.
He nods once before pushing off the fridge and moving toward the center island.
I stare at him, grudgingly fascinated by the way his muscles shift in the moonlight, bunching and rippling beneath his tanned skin. My mouth waters to taste those lickable V grooves at his waist.
“Like what you see?”
My eyes snap up to his face. His knowing smirk makes me bristle. Cocky fucking bastard.
I cross my arms under my breasts. “Shouldn’t you be hurrying back upstairs to your clingy ex?” I taunt. “I’m sure she’s waiting for you with bated breath and open legs.”
“Actually,” he drawls, “she’s not here.”
“What?” I say with exaggerated shock. “You mean she didn’t spend the night to keep a close eye on you?”
“Should she have?” he counters, an amused glint in his eye. “Am I in danger here? Are you planning to seduce me?”
I snort. “In your dreams.”
“Or maybe yours.”
My face burns hotter than ever. “I don’t dream about you,” I scoff.
His eyes gleam. “Never?”
“Nope.”
“Liar,” he says in that panty-disintegrating voice. Good thing I’m not wearing any at the moment.
“Look—” I break off, watching as he slowly rounds the center island and backs me up against the counter. I hate that my knees wobble and my heart pounds faster.
Swallowing hard, I let my eyes drift up his chest and past his throat before coming to rest on his face.
Without breaking our stare, he reaches out and brushes the pad of his thumb over my lips.
I. Am. Not. Breathing.
“Maybe I was wrong,” he murmurs. “Maybe youshouldn’thave taken this job.”
“Why not?” I croak.
“Because I’ve never fucked an employee in my life, and you’re going to make me break my own rule.”
My whole body quivers at his words.
Trying to play off my reaction, I smirk at him. “You mean to tell me you’ve never messed around with some starry-eyed assistant or intern?”
“I haven’t.”
