She turns and leans her back against the balcony rail. “Perhaps while I’m healing your muscles, you might let me heal whatever else is strained… or broken.”
“I’m trying to decide if your suggestion is dirty or presumptive.”
“I’m not being dirty at all. I’m being serious. Maybe I can show you it’s safe to step outside that frozen castle.”
“Why do I feel like this is more Disney?”
“It’s only Disney if you’re a tiny princess with magical powers. I don’t think that’s the case, is it?”
She’s teasing again, her pretty, pretty eyes sparkling, and I polish off the rest of my champagne.
“No.” It’s time to go.
“Are you angry?”
I don’t answer her. I simply leave the balcony, leave her there with her witchy ways trying to trap me. I haven’t eaten enough, and I can’t drink any more wine.
I’ve done my part to show up for Miles’s gala. I haven’t met with all my clients, but if I stay any longer, I’ll do something foolish.
“Spencer?” I hear her voice behind me, and I’m caught in the center of the room by Miles.
“Here you are. I need you to lose the scowl and show a little love to Grafton. Heather is here, but she’s pissed because of something Rick apparently said. I think he’s been over-served, and now he’s hitting on all the single women.”
“Get Daisy to do it,” I growl. “My back—”
“Oh, look, there he goes again.” Miles nods his head in the direction behind me. “Although I’m pretty confident Daisy’s cousin can kick his ass. She’s a pistol.”
Rage blazes in my stomach, and I turn around to see Rick with his hands on what my addled brain is insisting is mine.
I don’t even try to fight it. I cross the room and take her by the wrist, pulling her to me.
“Oh, hey, I see you know Spencer…” Rick’s voice goes from jolly to confused. “Wait a minute… What’s going on?”
“Why don’t we go and have some bread?” I hear Miles pinch-hitting behind me, but my patience is blown.
“What are you doing?” Joselyn tugs her wrist against my grip, but I only hold her tighter, pulling her into the foyer.
Her skin is so soft. “What are you doing, Joselyn?”
“What are you doing is more like it? How dare you manhandle me this way.” Her eyes flash, and I can’t escape her spell.
“What do you want from me?” I don’t recognize my haggard voice.
Our eyes lock, and she’s not afraid. She’s rising to meet me. My roughness, my hands on her body doesn’t intimidate her. I’ve never encountered a woman like her, so fiercely composed.
She puts both her hands on my neck and leans closer, almost brushing my lips with hers. “Thank you for liking my dress. I want you to call me when you’re ready for your next treatment. Our professional relationship isn’t over.”
With that, she turns, and in a swirl of white silk, she walks away, leaving me alone in the foyer wanting more. I want to chase after her and pull her hard against my chest. I want to shake her and demand to know who she thinks she is speaking to me that way.
I want to fuck her so hard.
My face drops, and I growl as I scrub it with my hand. This isn’t what I want. It’s not who I am.
But the thought of another man touching her…
I don’t know what it means or how far I’m willing to take it. I don’t know if it will destroy me or if it could be the best thing to happen.
I’ve been a dick to her in my attempts to keep up the status quo—and to respect her need to keep it professional. I’m no longer her boss now, but I have to keep her from walking away.