Page 68 of Grumpy Boss in Love

RUBY

This was risky. Getting too close to Elliot. Falling for him was bad enough, but getting to the point of needing his company very well may be a heartbreak waiting to happen. Sure, he had mellowed out significantly. He smiled, he laughed, and he was less surly and uptight. However, I still saw a trace of skepticism and reluctance in his eyes from time to time. As if he was thinking: What the hell am I doing with this slightly chaotic twenty-three-year-old?

I mean, he was Elliot Westwood, billionaire magnate/professor extraordinaire, and I was… an intern. Surely, he’d get over the few laughs I gave him and move on to someone in his league soon.

With an eye roll, I pushed my insecurities aside. Why was I acting as if I was more than his contract-wife? He’d be done with me in a matter of months as soon as he secured that property. Blowing out a quiet breath, I turned to Elliot with a brilliant smile. He sat around my dining table with a plate of omelet and toast.

“I’ve got your coffee just the way you like it, boss, black and boring.”

He hit me with an irritated glare, and I grinned harder. Goodness, Commander Curmudgeon’s scowls had grown on me. “It’s better than the sweet, fattening concoctions you guzzle down.”

“Buzzkill,” I grumbled as I placed the coffee in front of him.

His expression was lit with amusement. “Thank you.” Elliot sipped from his mug and watched me over the top with sharp eyes.

His stare was disconcerting because I was already stewing in uneasiness about the domestic picture we made. I’d never had a man spend the night at my place. Our relationship was starting to feel too real, and it worried me because it wasn’t. I loathed our contract marriage more every day.

“What?” I asked, taking a sip of my milky coffee with a dollop of whipped cream on top.

“I glimpsed an eviction notice in a stack of papers on one of your nightstands this morning.”

My cheeks burnt with embarrassment while my inside heated up with annoyance. I put my mug down to glower at him. “Nosey much.”

“I didn’t search through your things,” he said with a frown. “It was pretty much out in the open and hard not to see.”

After letting out an indignant puff of air, I explained. “It’s old. I forgot to throw it away. I was on the verge of eviction before your whole fake marriage plot. Since I married you for rent money, I’m good now,” I spat bitterly.

Elliot sat back to regard me with clear aggravation. “You only suggested a few months’ rent when we made our deal. How about I extend it?”

“What?” I eyed him suspiciously.

Elliot rubbed the back of his neck and there was the slightest tint of pink highlighting his exquisite cheekbones. My suspicion mounted because Elliot didn’t blush. “Well… You mentioned once that your salary as an intern was insufficient. That's why you held on to your job at that atrocious place.”

My sclera did acrobatics the way I rolled my eyes hard. “It was a club.”

“Maybe I hated the thought of you parading around half-naked in front of other men.”

I could tell he hadn’t meant to blurt that out because his mouth snapped shut and the barely visible color in his cheeks got brighter.

“So you were jealous?”

“That’s beside the point,” he bit out.

I folded my arms. “Then what is your point?”

“Maybe I can take care of your rent indefinitely, and you know, some of your other expenses… Make things a little easier for you.”

My eyes narrowed to slits. Maybe Elliot meant well, but I took offense. “Why in the world would you suggest such a thing? We’re not dating. We’re not… We’re nothing!” Utterly irritated, I jump to my feet. “I’m not going to be a billionaire’s sugar baby.”

Elliot’s eyes widened. “Excuse me? Why would you even…? Are you…?”

While he sputtered angrily, I huffed, “I’m going to take a shower. Enjoy breakfast.” My appetite had fled the building.

* * *

Caroline sent me icy stares from across the boardroom table. Today was one of the rare days that the lowly interns got to sit in a meeting between the marketing department and the CEO. We were to observe how these meetings were carried out. Prince Westwood graced us with his presence on the fifth floor. As he listened to Caroline deliver the marketing monthly report, I snuck a peek at him.

He sat at the head of the table, expression as stoney as ever, but oh so gorgeous. He looked like a broody dark lord whose castle I wouldn’t mind getting trapped in so he could have his wicked way with me. I shook my head slightly and forced my thoughts away from that ridiculous plotline for a low-budget porno. The places my mind went sometimes…

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