Page 37 of The Naughty List

“Uh, hi, yes. My name is Sadie Emmert,” I say to the doorman after I walk through the large door he’s holding open for me.

“Hello, Sadie, I spoke with Beth. Follow me. I’ll take you to Mr. Snow’s private elevator.”

“Private elevator?” I follow closely on the doorman’s heels. Reaching the elevator, he scans a card on the control panel and selects the penthouse.

“Only accessible with a keycard,” he says, holding it up as the doors close between us.

I grab a compact from my purse and furiously attempt to fluff my hair, also checking to be sure I don’t have any leftover poppyseeds from my salad in my teeth. Suddenly, I feel overheated and out of breath. I plaster on a big smile as the doors open, but nobody is standing there.

“Hello?” I step into the massive entryway and the sound of my heels clicking against the marble tiles echoes around me.

“Mr. Snow?”

I take a few more steps inside and peer around a corner, but there’s no answer and no sign anyone else is here.

I pull my phone out of my purse to see if I missed a text or call from Beth, anything to indicate a last-minute change to Mr. Snow’s location, but my screen is blank.

I contemplate calling her to double-check but decide against it. Walking into the main living area, I slide the phone back inside my purse. My eyes are immediately drawn to the massive floor-to-ceiling bay window. It has a nearly unobstructed view of the partially frozen Lake Michigan. It’s breathtaking. So much so, I find myself mesmerized by the blue expanse of water, which is dotted with ice.

I jolt, remembering I’m not just in some random building, but that I am standing in my boss’s private living space. Clutching the contract tighter, I turn and walk through a sitting room that looks professionally decorated. It’s excessively tidy, to the point that I’m not sure the room has ever even been used.

“Mr. Snow?” I say it louder this time, hoping he will hear me so I don’t have to continue wandering aimlessly around his house.

I snake my way down a hallway, unsure whether I should try knocking on the doors I’m passing, until I hear his muffled voice.

“Hello? Mr. Snow?” I follow the sound to a cracked open door. His voice grows clearer the closer I get, and I figure he must be on a call in his office.

“Thanks, yeah, that works just fine. All right, Tanner, Merry Christmas to you too. Talk to you next week.”

He finishes his call just as I reach the door.

“Mr. Snow?” I knock once, then gently push the door open and step inside the room. “Sorry to bother you at home but—oh my god!” I shriek, covering my mouth with my hands and scattering the papers I was holding across his office floor.

Only…it isn’t his office. It’s his bedroom. And the low-slung towel hanging off Mr. Snow’s hips slides down his muscular thighs, landing in a perfect pile at his ankles.

My eyes drop, locking onto his very well-endowed manhood that hangs low between said thighs.

Why am I staring?

I squeeze my eyes shut, flinging my hands out as I spin around.

“I’m so sorry!”

“What the fuck?” His booming voice echoes off the walls of the room as I blindly scramble to exit, tripping in the process and landing in a heap on the hard floor. A sharp pain shoots through my knee. Suddenly, his warm hands are on my arms, helping me back to my feet.

Oh god, please have the towel back on. Please, please, please.

Slowly, I turn to look at him, my face flaming with embarrassment.

“Why are you in my bedroom, Miss Emmert?”

I’m too shocked to answer him, so instead of explaining, my eyes bulge.

“You know my name?” He crooks a brow at me, and I shake my head. “Sorry, Beth asked me to come here, and have you sign uh—” I look around and see the papers still on the floor. Dropping to my hands and knees, I crawl around to pick them up. “This contract.”

“Is that right?”

I sit back on my heels, papers in hand, and look up at Alexander Snow. He’s looking down at me, wearing nothing but a towel.

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