Or something.
I’ll figure it out.
But until I do, I have to be civil to him while we’re on the job.
Once we’re off the clock, however…
Well, then I fully intend to let him know I loathe him like damp socks on a cold winter’s day.
Chapter Two
Alexandra
Present Day…
“Zan! Earth to Zan!”
I’m pulled from my thoughts by my nemesis calling my name from the hot tub. I glance over, and he laughs.
“Hey there, space cadet,” he says. “Should we send a search and rescue team to the doorway?”
“That won’t be necessary,” I snap, my jaw clenching as I attempt to glare a hole through his forehead.
He laughs again, as unfazed by my irritation as he’s been all weekend. “Then come on, silly. You must be freezing. Hop in and warm up.” His eyes glitter into mine, and a smug smile curves his lips, almost as if he knows that I was just thinking about the kiss we shared and how much I hated it.
I really did hate it.
I hated it so much that I think about doing it again at least once a day. Sometimes more, if I’m unlucky enough to spend any portion of that day with Nickolas Von Bergen.
Dammit.
Nick’s smile widens. “I promise not to seek revenge if that’s what you’re worried about. I’ve totally forgotten that you almost drowned me when we were small.”
“I haven’t.” I force an equally obnoxious grin. “If only we could turn back time…”
Nick winces in faux pain and presses a hand to his chest. “Ouch. You wound me, Zan-Wan.”
I bat my lashes, my smile still in place. “Call me by a stupid nickname again, and you’ll wake up tomorrow without a single hair on your head.”
He winks. “Promise? I’ve been thinking a buzz cut might be a nice way to ring in the new year.”
“Stop it, you two,” Andrew says, heaving a sigh from the other side of the bubbling tub. “You’re upsetting Sabrina.”
My sister snuggles closer to Andrew’s side. “Oh, pish. I’m not upset. I’ve had too much champagne and birthday cake to be upset.” She kisses Andrew’s lightly scruffy cheek. “Thank you for the perfect triple-birthday surprise, baby.”
“Yes, thank you, Andrew,” I add, meaning it. I can’t remember the last time anyone outside our triplet-trio went out of their way for our birthdays. Even our parents usually just ordered takeout from the bistro in the village and stuck a few candles in the freezer-burned ice cream we forgot to throw away at the end of the summer. “It was the best birthday in years.”
“Aw, see, there it is,” Nick says, his voice low and husky. “Every bitter little pill has a soft and gooey center.”
“Calling me ‘little’ is also a good way to wake up bald,” I shoot back, ignoring the way his voice makes my lips, thighs, and other, even more intimate parts, tingle.
I need to get laid. That’s all this is.
It’s been over a year since I’ve been naked with another human being. My sexual frustration is making me crazy enough to tingle for my sworn enemy.
Since my ex-husband left me for a not-at-all clever or even particularly cute dental hygienist he’d been banging for the last six months of our brief marriage, I haven’t felt up to dating. I’ve been busy with work, and the thought of hitting a bar or a club usually leaves me feeling…sour.
I didn’t like the bar scene back before I was married.
I like it even less now. I’d foolishly thought my days of searching for a partner were over.
Gerg wasn’t my ideal—he had a weird name, was childishly picky about food, hated physical activity of most kinds, and as I would later learn, he suffered from a bad case of banging-women-he-wasn’t-married-to-itis—but we shared a devotion to our careers, ambition for a bright and brilliant future, and a love of travel. We had wonderful weekend adventures, a good rapport, and a completely satisfactory sex life.
Or so I’d thought…
Now, deep down, I wonder if something’s wrong with me. If there’s a reason I’ve never been able to make a relationship work long term.
Maybe Gerg was telling the truth when he said being in bed with me was like fucking a polar ice cap…
“Come on, Soft and Gooey, join us,” Nick coos.
He really does enjoy getting under my skin.
Under normal circumstances, I’d keep my cool and my harsh words and hateful-laser-beam-gaze locked down. The only thing worse than Nick being my new boss is Nick knowing how much I hate that he’s my boss.
But there’s nothing normal about the way this man affects me.
Nothing’s normal about how much I want to drown him in that hot tub or kiss him in that hot tub.
Or maybe kiss him and then drown him?
“Yeah, come on, Zan,” Sabrina calls, sipping champagne from her and Andrew’s shared champagne glass. “Your nose is turning blue, and I want to talk to you about Christmas dinner. Mother is determined to make her special rum cake for dessert, but she gets wasted every time she pulls out that recipe. And I’d really rather she kept the crazy to a minimum for the first holiday with my in-laws.”