Page 10 of Hawke

“For starters, I asked you to call me Hawke. Secondly, you need to watch your tone, Miss Maxwell,” he replied as he crossed the length of my office in a few steps. Before I could anticipate his next move, he reached over, grabbed the phone from my hand, then set it back on its receiver.

“What did you do that for?” I asked, this time irritated that he’d hung up on the caterer. If he only knew how difficult it was to get a hold of the man in the first place.

“It didn’t appear to be an important call, so I—” he started to say before I interrupted him for a change.

“For your information, it was, but I’m sure someone like you doesn’t care.” I watched his lips quirk into a grin, causing me to roll my eyes. “I’ll repeat my earlier question. What do you want?”

Hawke didn’t immediately answer as he reached into his pocket. I had no clue what he had until I saw the flash of metal. “My earring!”

I had no idea how he ended up with one of my grandmother’s diamond earrings until I remembered my visit that morning. Heat flooded my cheeks from arousal as I also recalled his threat.

Did you come over here to return a piece of jewelry, or to deliver on the spanking?

Rising quickly from my chair, I reached across my desk and grabbed the earring from his hand. If he intended to do the latter, I certainly wouldn’t make it easy on him. “Thank you. If that’s all…”

My voice trailed off, and I held back the look of disappointment when he pulled a familiar-looking file out from inside of his jacket. I should’ve known this trip of his had to be about business.

“You never signed these, Miss Maxwell,” he said in a low tone.

I sighed. “Was it really necessary to do that seeing as I… uh… agreed to your terms while in your office this morning?”

His facial expressions changed, and he looked at me with a deadpan one as if he couldn’t believe I’d asked what I had. “Of course it was. There are papers in here regarding confidentiality that must have your signature on them.”

His voice, and now his body language, were all business as he opened the folder and laid a few papers across the top of my glass desk. He then pulled out a pen.

I ignored the writing utensil he held out, instead choosing a pink one from the nearby cup on my desk. I didn’t bother re-reading the pages because I’d practically saved them to memory after reviewing them multiple times the night before. When the last “T” was crossed and “I” dotted, I looked up at him.

“Does that make you feel better?”

“No, but this will,” Hawke responded, and in the blink of an eye, he pulled me from my chair, then bent me over my desk. My hands were now pinned behind my back as he held me in that strong death grip of his.

I should’ve fought him off because he had no right to touch me, and in fact, I’d warned him earlier against doing so, even though I knew deep inside that there wasn’t much I’d do in retaliation. While my threat had been empty for the most part, his evidently wasn’t.

Thud!

“Ouch.” I had not been prepared for the whack from whatever he used. Hawke delivered another two blows in rapid succession, and pain spread across my backside. I knew he wasn’t using his hand or even a belt. Whatever it was, however, hurt like hell. He struck twice more, and I had to squeeze my eyes closed to hold back the tears.

Metal collided with my desk, causing my eyes to fly open. It was then that I realized what he’d used on me. Surely the hole puncher would leave a bruise. “Damn you,” I managed to get out before he released his hold on me.

When he stepped back, I quickly stood, but couldn’t help rubbing my ass. The thin leggings I had on provided no cushion between my flesh and the office accessory, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that. Returning my hands to my front side, I glared at him.

“I warned you to watch your tone, Miss Maxwell. I trust that instruction won’t be too difficult for you the next time.”

I wanted to curse, or at least rant, at him. After all, any of my assistants could’ve walked in and seen him. None of them knew about the type of places I frequented when in Washington, D.C., last year, nor did I care to explain anything about it to them, either. Not sure what else he’d do to her if I gave in to my Norwegian temper and unleashed it, I opted to remain more subdued in my response.

“Don’t touch me again, Nath—I mean, Hawke. You’re not my Dominant. You lost that right the night you kicked me out of your dungeon.”

He scowled, and I was satisfied his smirk was finally gone.

That feeling was quickly erased when he spoke. “You’re right. No submissive of mine would dare to behave in the disrespectful manner you have.”

“Is a submissive of yours even allowed to speak, Mr. Hawkins?” I asked, almost immediately regretting it.

“When given permission,” he said before adding, “then yes. As you’ve pointed out and I’ve confirmed, you’re no submissive of mine, nor will you ever be. What you are, however, is an employee, and since we’re working together, you’ll be civil to me and I will do the same in return. Is that understood?”

I almost shrugged, but settled with a curt nod, unsure why the finality of his words had such a depressing tone to them. I should’ve been happy there’d be no repeat of that night in Washington, D.C., or even of our kiss earlier that morning. I looked over at him, and my gaze locked in on his full mouth.

Hawke’s lips started to move, so I shook my thoughts away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear what you said.”

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