Page 5 of Drilling Deep

Nothing. No smile. Not even a lip twitch.

The man stomps out of the room without acknowledging me, and I spin on my heel, trying to keep up.This is going to be a long month.

3

TITAN

Cora stumbles from the conference room behind me, dragging her giant suitcase across the tile. It has a light pink sash tied around the handle in a perfect bow, and I don’t know why that bothers me so much. I couldn’t stop staring at it when her father was introducing us.

Staring at that damn bow was better than staring at the woman herself. Cora is… angelic. No.Annoying. That’s what I meant. Her bright green eyes and icy blonde hair aren’t welcome here, nor are the feelings stirring in my gut whenever I think about her smile.

I wince when she starts down the stairs behind me, the wheels of her luggage banging on the metal stairs with each step. The woman has been aboard less than ten minutes and is already causing a disruption.

I turn around to tell her to pick up her damn bag. To my shock, Cora’s foot gets caught in the grate between the stairs, and she catapults into me. I wrap an arm around her, absorbing the energy of her fall and keeping her steady.

My stomach tightens as I breathe in a sweet strawberry scent, and when I look down at the woman in my arms, I can hardly breathe. She’s peering up at me with wide, emerald eyes, nibbling on her bottom lip, which is trembling slightly. Tears gather in her eyes, but she blinks them away before I can be sure what I saw.

I easily lift the five-foot-nothing woman and her suitcase and carry them down the last three steps. It’s more difficult than I’d like to admit to set Cora down on her feet and step away from her. I’m unsure what this woman is doing to me, but it feels dangerous. Like she might disrupt my whole world if I give her even an inch.

Before I can say anything, Cora puts her hands up and apologizes.

“I’m so sorry. God, I’m such a klutz! I didn’t break a stair or anything,” she blurts out, laughing nervously.

“Break a stair?” What the hell does that mean?

“You know, because I’m… well, I have the potential to be too, uh, heavy for–”

“What?”

Cora jerks back at my harsh tone, and I instantly regret snapping at her—something I’m not used to. I don’t care how I come across to most people, and enjoy the benefits of my reputation as an asshole. But with this sweet—I mean,spoiledgirl? I guess all the rules are changing.

“Never mind. Stupid joke my dad makes when I do something like this,” she says in a rush. Her cheeks flush bright red, making her white-blonde hair stand out all the more against her flushed skin.

I furrow my brow, not sure I understand. Her father joked about her breaking a stair because of her weight? Is she serious? Cora is curvy as hell, but fat? No way. She has the perfect-sized hips for my big hands. I force away the image of my rough fingertips gliding across her porcelain skin.

“Um, so, yeah. Thanks for breaking my fall,” Cora says in a light tone. “I already took a tumble once today, so… I’m rambling.” She trails off, tucking her hair behind her ears and staring down at her shoes, which I notice for the first time are open-toed sandals.

“Can’t wear those here,” I bark at her.

I’m unsure what has me so riled up, but my heart won’t stop hammering. I’m not mad at her. I’m… madforher, I think. I don’t know what to do with that information, so I stuff it down deep, where I keep my secrets and shame.

“Oh, these?” she asks, pointing to her right foot and rotating it to show me the sandal. It’s a strappy, bright blue shoe with what looks like rhinestones decorating a few of the straps crossing in the opposite direction. “Aren’t they adorable? My dad said I should only wear professional clothes, but he didn’t say anything about footwear. I might have taken some liberties.”

Cora looks up at me with a mischievous smirk, and I swear to fucking God, my dick jerks to life behind my zipper. What the actual hell is happening to me? Can’t remember the last time someone elicited that response from me. Ten years? Fifteen?

“You’re both wrong,” I inform her, clearing my throat.

Her smile drops as she tilts her head to the side. I try not to look at the strands of silky blonde hair falling around her face or her round cheeks that make her look so innocent. No, not innocent.Inconvenient. That doesn’t even make sense, but none of this does. I can’t be thinking of her like that. I’m trying to save my job, not lose it by having a fling with the boss’s daughter.

“You don’t need professional clothes or fancy shoes to work here. You need boots and jeans.”

“Even if I’m just the secretary?”

The way she asks makes me wonder how she feels about this whole arrangement. I detect some bitterness in her tone and perhaps some sarcasm. Interesting.

“Everyone on my crew, my rig, and my ship wears the proper attire, and that includes you, princess.”

Fuck. Princess? Where did that come from?

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