Page 11 of The Boss's Forbidden Assistant

The smell was immediately mouth-watering and Harper realised she wasn’t just hungry, she was famished. She pushed her bread plate to the side to make room, smiling up at Catarina as the woman manoeuvred the plates into position, unaware of the way Salvador’s eyes clung to her face, taking in every detail of her smile. Catarina left and Harper’s smile dropped, her eyes moving to the meal instead.

‘You are a very beautiful young woman.’

She startled, her heart racing. ‘Mr da Rocha...’

He held up a hand, but then returned it to the table, reaching for his cutlery.

‘You don’t...’ What could she say? She shook her head, frustrated, hemmed in by her own experiences, her job for this man and a desire that was beating through her like a drum.

‘I’m simply observing a fact,’ he said, cutting into his steak with apparently no idea how his words had affected her.

‘It’s not a fact,’ she said unevenly. ‘When it comes to beauty, there is no such thing.’

‘I disagree. Some people, like you, are objectively beautiful.’

It was too much. ‘You can’t...say that.’

‘Did I offend you?’

She shook her head and, for some reason she couldn’t fathom, felt the warning sting of tears behind her eyes. She cut her steak quickly, furiously, completely thrown off-balance.

‘I was simply observing something about you, in the same way I might say your hair is brown or your nails short.’ He lifted his shoulders. ‘It was not an invitation to my bed, Ms Lawson. You can relax.’

Relax—after he’d so casually mentioned an invitation to his bed? Did he have any idea how riotous her pulse was? How desperately breathless she felt?

‘Stop it,’ she said after a moment, shaking her head.

‘Stop what?’

‘Whatever you’re doing. You’re...flirting with me, or teasing me, or possibly even toying with me. This working relationship will be much better if you don’t do any of those things.’

He leaned back in his chair, studying her, dissecting her, reading her like a book, she feared. ‘You don’t like to be flirted with?’

‘Not by my boss.’

He tilted his head to the side a little, silent for several moments, moments in which she knew he was seeing too much. ‘Speaking from experience?’

Damn it! Her harsh intake of breath would undoubtedly give her away. ‘I’m not going to answer that.’

‘You already did,’ he said quietly. ‘Not your current boss, I presume?’

The colour drained from her face. ‘It’s none of your business.’

‘So I presume a previous employer. Perhaps the reason you left Stanley Moore Graham after only seven months?’

She let out a shuddering breath. Damn him and his perceptiveness, his quick deductions.

‘Your reference from the company was excellent, so it cannot have been a professional problem.’

‘I said stop it,’ she ground out, her appetite failing her now. She placed her cutlery down neatly and took another sip of wine.

‘I’m simply trying to understand you.’

‘Why?’ she said forcefully, her feelings so wild, she couldn’t make sense of any of them. ‘Why does any of this matter?’

‘I like to know the people who work for me.’

‘Now who’s lying?’ she muttered under her breath.

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