Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84442 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84442 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Now isn’t the time to be thinking with my dick and she doesn’t deserve that. She didn’t do anything wrong, per se. It isn’t a violation that she did the reports; it’s more of an ethical thing on Sloane's part.
“No,” I say gruffly. “You’re not the one in trouble. I’ll handle this so you can focus on your own work.”
Her ponytail flies through the air in an arc of honey-brown as she shakes her head, looking at me pleadingly.
“Mr. D’Amico, it’s fine, really. Sloane will be furious if she finds out I said something, and I really don’t want to cause any more problems. Please, sir, she probably won’t interrupt me if I’m working on files specifically for you.”
She somehow manages to continue being timid even as she argues with me, and at any other time, I’d find it cute. Right now, I simply narrow my eyes at her. “What do you mean by more problems? Is there something else going on?”
I swear, I’ll send Sloane packing without any warning if she’s been doing more than this behind my back. Fuck her daddy’s connections; I’ve built my own. And I have no problem ruining her and her father if she continues to get in my way. She came here as a favor to her father, a way to give his spoiled daughter a reality check when it comes to hard work. And clearly, she’s learned nothing. So firing her isn’t an issue and her daddy’s bridge is one I’d gladly burn just to watch her crumble.
Riley glances away nervously, obviously skirting the question when she says, “I just don’t want to make waves. All I want to do is keep my head down and do my job.”
Annoyance flares in my gut at the thought of sending her back down to get bossed around and have work heaped on top of her, at the thought that she believes she deserves it. She’s the most brilliant employee I’ve ever had. If I thought she’d go for it, I’d promote her to department head here and now.
“I’ll handle my business how I see fit,” I say firmly.
She flinches away from the chill in my voice, and I curse myself internally. I keep forgetting that she isn’t like the other women around here who beg for my attention. She’s softer, sweeter. If I wasn’t so obsessed with her, I’d probably have my assistant give her pointers on surviving the corporate world.
I don’t want to make so much progress with her only to take ten steps back by losing my temper. Gentling my voice, I take a deep breath before I continue.
“I’ll keep your name out of it when I talk to Sloane,” I promise. “You have nothing to worry about, Miss Morgan.”
Her eyes snap up to mine in surprise, and I realize my mistake instantly. Fuck, I should have picked a nickname that I wouldn’t accidentally call her at the office while I was texting her.
Why couldn’t I just stick with Princess?
I steel my spine and pretend nothing happened, refusing to show even a flicker of recognition on my face. Calling her by her last name is totally normal. If I don’t give her anything to read into, she won’t think about my slip up for long.
“That’ll be all. Get back to work for now. If Sloane keeps any of this up, I expect to know about it.”
She hesitates for a moment longer but shakes it off and nods before standing.
“Yes, sir.”
I let myself ogle the trim cut of her waist and the curve of her ass as she turns and heads back to the door. My imagination torments me with thoughts of telling her everything before bending her over my desk and fucking her until neither of us can talk as she slips out quietly, closing the door behind her.
I scoff and lean back in my chair, dragging a hand down my face in an attempt to get my errant mind back in order. She’s not ready for the truth yet. I need to play the game properly if I want her to stay mine, to keep her for myself. Allowing my impatience to get the better of me won’t do either of us any favors.
And I’m not willing to lose her.
CHAPTER 7
RILEY
Has hell frozen over?
I nearly do a double take when I walk past Sloane’s office this morning.
Not only is she not chattering away on the phone or touching up her makeup, but she’s actually working. At least, if the clacking of her keyboard and the furious frown on her bright red lips are any indication.
The spring in my step stems from the hope that she’ll be too busy to crawl up my ass today, but it withers and dies as soon as I round the wall of my cubicle.
My bare cubicle.
The pictures of Taylor and me are gone; the gently-tended Monstera I’ve struggled to keep alive is nowhere in sight. Hell, even my monitor and keyboard are gone. All that greets me is an empty particleboard desk and a bright green sticky note smack dab in the center. My footsteps falter as I walk closer, panicked thoughts swarming my brain.