He was reviewing my file?
“What do you want?”
He’s giving me whiplash. “I don’t understand.”
Amusement flashes in his eyes. Nowhere else though, just those black, bottomless eyes. “What do you want? In life? In working for me.” He speaks slowly again.
I wonder if he’s ever been slapped.
A flippant answer is on my lips, but I don’t dare. The air is pulsing, palpably alive with something I wish to hell I could define, understand. I’m trying to pull away from his gaze. I can’t.
“In life, I want to pay off the mortgage on my Abuelo’s home. The rate is insane, the debt crushing. It was taken out in a desperate bid to save my Abuela’s life when she was diagnosed with breast cancer.” I feel the need to defend Abuelo’s actions in taking out a loan he could not afford.
“I want to paint again.” I would never have admitted this to anyone else. I hate I’m telling him. Only his demand won’t allow me to be anything less than completely honest. I have the oddest feeling no matter how well I could lie, and I’m a shitty liar, he’d know I was doing it.
“I dropped out of art school to take care of my Abuela. I’m aware I’m long past making a living from it. I’m not interested in even trying; I simply haven’t had the time or money to spend on it.”
It’s the truth. I never had dreams of stardom; enough to support myself making a living doing what I loved would have made me happy. Now I just want the freedom I find in creating my own world on a canvas.
“In working for you, I want Simon’s job and the salary that goes with it. But I don’t want it for forever. All day, every day in an office is not my dream, it’s a means to an end.”
He leans back, the full weight of his gaze resting on me. His eyes roam over me. I hate the way every inch of me responds to him, my breasts grow heavy, goose bumps raise on my arms, my mouth waters—for what, I have no fucking idea. A savage longing builds until it scares me with the strength of it. I need to get away from him, now.
“Do you have a passport?”
My stomach drops at what the question means. I nod. Speech isn’t possible right now.
“Will you be able to have a nurse cover taking care of your grandfather for the next few weeks?”
I start to nod. Wait. “Few weeks?” How did he know Abuelo needed a nurse?
“Tomorrow, a car will pick you up at eight sharp. We will fly down to Hungry Harvest. There is no need to come to my office at one, this was the discussion I wanted us to have. Spend the day creating a plan to make sure they will be on their knees welcoming us as a partner.
“We go in and stay in. Investment of one hundred and fifty thousand, implementation of full structure as well as a marketing and technical support team. It should take two days max. As for the rest of the time, Connor is experiencing a personal issue. I may have need of you for some time.”
Some time... The way he said it has me squirming in my seat. Another nod. My skin is growing tighter. Away, I need to get away from him. It’s embarrassing the way I sway slightly as I push up from my chair. He doesn’t move.
“Anything else?” I mutter as I clutch my copy of the proposal across my chest like a shield I desperately need.
He’s laughing at me. I can feel it even if not a single flicker of it shows on his face. A small nod. “Connor’s issues are not up for discussion, to anyone. I look forward to your report in a few hours. Do not disappoint me.”
I don’t bother to respond, just turn and fight the urge to run from him.
3
Ivan
Unable to tear my eyes off her, I watch as Christina Connolly rounds a corner. At last I close my eyes, releasing a slow, measured breath. It does not work. My entire body is still hard with tension, aching with need as it has been for the last fucking hour.
I cannot comprehend the way my body has betrayed me. I have experienced nothing like this before. Never have I been so desperately hungry for a woman as I was the moment I saw Christina. I am master of my body, of my fucking world. Yet even now with her nowhere near me, I am unable to regain control of my body’s response to her.
Every inch of her is burned into my retinas. Her face is a classic oval highlighted by round cheekbones and intriguing hazel eyes framed by lashes that have to be fake. Her nose is adorable, there is no other word for it, small with a slight tip up at the end. I had the oddest desire to run a finger along.
There is nothing adorable about her lips, they are sin and sex. Those lips, fuck me—the small cupid’s bow screamed at me, begging to be tasted. I want to see those shiny lips around my cock. To wrap my hand in her long, silky hair and hold her in place as I ravage that pretty little mouth. My cock jumps at the fantasy.
Fuck. What the hell is this? Emotions flitted across her beautiful face as easy to read as if she spoke them, anger and confusion being the most expressive. The confusion should soothe me, she was as mystified as I am at our instant connection. It does not. Right now nothing could soothe me. Except possibly Christina under me.
Damn it. My cock is beginning to ache. This is bullshit. Getting involved with Christina Connolly is a bad idea. I do not have bad ideas. I certainly never act on them. Only even now I have set things in motion to get her close, keep her close.