Page 24 of The English Billionaire's Obsession

I nod to her, gesturing to the hallway. Without waiting to see if she responded, I walk away. A minute later, she joins me. We’re alone. I’d have to have superhuman resolve not to grab and kiss her, but when I move to do just that, she drifts away from me, shaking her head.

“I don’t want everybody thinking I screwed you to get this job,” she says, bitterness in her voice.

“It’s not just about that, though, is it?”

She folds her arms, causing her large, perfect tits to push together. I attempt to drag my mind out of the gutter, but it’s always there, the hungry desire that won’t stop, seed surging into my shaft and telling me to take her now.

“Obviously not,” she says. “My friend knows I’m staying in your apartment, by the way. I didn’t use theK word, but she knows where I am. She has the address.”

“You’re talking like you’re unsafe,” I snarl.

“I’m just saying she knows.”

Her sassiness is a shield I can’t seem to break through, but that’s my fault. Thereisa way to break through it. I just need to work up to it.

“After work, the car won’t take you home. It’s going to bring you to me.”

“Oh, is it?” she says, trying for sarcasm, but I can see the sparkle in her eyes and the flush of her cheeks. “I guess I don’t get an opinion about it?”

“We’ll walk my dog,” I tell her.

“You have a dog?”

“A Jack Russell. Loki. He wasBritish madonce but is tame enough to make new friends now. You’re free to say no.”

She bites her lip, just like in the video, causing my balls to swell and ache, but more than that. My soul bursts, too, a sudden wave of affection that has me reaching over to her again. Glancing up and down the hallway, she lets me drag her into my arms. We kiss briefly, but it’s hot and urgent.

“I’ll come,” she says.

“I know you will.”

She laughs adorably, tension forgotten for a precious moment.

“Not likethat.”

“I’m going to give you the answers you want,” I tell her. “You deserve them.”

“Can’t you tell me now?”

I swallow, telling myself her eagerness isn’t a gold-digger instinct, telling myself not to be so paranoid.

“No.”

She steps back, nodding. “I should get back to work.”

I know I shouldn’t ask my next question. Jealousy is an ugly emotion.

“Who’s that bloke?” I say. “The one who made you laugh?”

“His name’s Freddie. Another intern. Why?”

I clench my jaw and shake my head. “It’s nothing.”

“We’re not… involved if that’s what you’re thinking. I’ve never had a boyfriend.”

“Keep it that way,” I tell her. “Nobody kisses you, touches you, is intimate with you in any way, including emotionally.”

“What makes you think you can decide that for me?”

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