Page 20 of Silver Fox
Fuck, she’s even more beautiful in the daylight.
My shoulders heave with emotion—indignation, annoyance, outrage. I turn the lock, and it snaps shut, trapping her in the room with me.
“Why are you here?” she whispers, her eyes as wide as saucers as she watches me shut off the camera recording the hearing.
I don’t want any evidence of this conversation.
“Because,” I plant my hands on the smooth glass table, letting my weight rest on my shoulders, “one of my employees is accused of embezzling money. And my logistics director has identified the culprit.”
Skye swallows, sinking in her chair. “One of your employees?”
“It seems so.”
Her focus slides around the room, landing on the Silver Mobility logo now drifting across the screen. “You own the company?”
My eyebrow ticks. “It has my name on it, doesn’t it?”
“Your name?”
“Silver is my surname.”
She lets out a laugh. “You could have mentioned that last night.”
“What?” I ask, towering over her. “That I own the company you’re embezzling from?”
Anger surfaces within her, bright and furious. “I haven’t embezzled shit, Silas.”
“Mr. Silver,” I say coldly.
Skye gets to her feet, mimicking my posture. “I think I’ve earned the right to call you by your name after last night,sir.”
She isn’t a pushover, this woman. But I guess I knew that after her little note this morning. Slowly, I make my way around the table. I can see she expects me to stop before I enter her personal space, but fuck that. I crowd her, moving her back against the wall. My footsteps stalk hers, and my cock hardens at the feel of her body against mine. “Thanks for the fun night… sir,” I recite, breathing in her scent.
Her little note for me, left beside the bouquet of flowers that had gone past their best.
“You asked me to take out your trash,” she hisses, her breath hitching when my hand skates across her hip.
“The note was for my cleaner, Skye. Not you.”
Her expression blanks. “What?”
“If you’d waited in my apartment a few minutes longer, I would have been able to tell you that myself.” I pull her closer, our lips inches apart.
“Where did you go?”
“To get breakfast for us.” I hold her chin. We’re so close I can see the amber striations in her eyes. “I didn’t want you leaving on an empty stomach.”
“Oh,” she whispers, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip.
I slide one hand into the dark hair at her nape, remembering how perfect it looks sprawled out against my bedsheets. “Tell me,” I say, dragging the tip of my nose against her neck. “Why are you embezzling?”
“I’m not embezzl—oh!”
She gasps as I bite into her neck, just short of breaking the skin. “Tell me the truth,” I snarl.
“I am telling you the truth.” Her voice is breathy, but she’s making no effort to get away from me.
But I guess I already knew she likes to be pinned down, didn’t I?
