“Well, well, my little Valkyrie.” His breath caresses my skin like a lover’s touch. One I don’t want from him. “You must really have some balls if you think you can break into my office.”
Jesus Christ. His office?
Oh, hell no.
What did I get myself into?
I whirl around out of his grasp, but he locks me back in, pushing me up against the wall. He gives me a salacious grin, his teeth looking whiter in this light.
The overly confident look on his face is the same one he wore when he waltzed into my life and stopped my wedding.
As his eyes roam over me, I think of what to say to get myself out of this but nothing comes. I doubt he’d buy a lame-ass excuse like I was looking for the bathroom when I was obviously breaking in. The hairpin is still in the lock.
“I didn’t know it was your office,” I babble, as if that will help me.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m going to enjoy punishing you.” He reaches forward and yanks my hairpin out of the lock, then opens the door—with his key. “Now then, why don’t you step into my office, Anastasia?”
ChapterThirteen
Anastasia
The overhead lights come on as we walk into Desmier’s office.
I take in the antique-looking furniture made of black walnut wood and the glass-paned bookcase to the left that takes up the entire wall.
The desk in the center commands most of the space, and rows of shelves filled with books line the wall behind the padded leather chair.
This office doesn’t seem to suit Desmier. It would be more fitting to someone older. Like Leif. Or Jules Verne, judging from the volumes of classic literature on the shelf about adventures to the center of the earth, the moon, and the sea. There’s also an ancient-looking pair of golden binoculars sitting on a tripod by the window.
It’s all interesting, but I can see that I would have been quite disappointed if I’d succeeded in breaking in.
Desmier places his hand to the small of my back. The contact twists my stomach into more knots, and I wonder what the hell I’m going to do.
This is bad. Very bad. I don’t know what to expect or what more to say to get myself out of trouble.
Before, all I did to piss him off was to exist as Uther Sidorov’s daughter. Now I’ve really given him a reason to do something to me. Something he said he’s going to enjoy.
Didn’t he threaten to spank me only yesterday?
And the look on his face as he said it was like he was talking about eating some delicious meal. He seems to be one of those men who get off on things like that.
Shit.Why didn’t I just stay in the room? I could have just taken a bath or tried to sleep, either option would have been better than this.
Desmier shepherds me to the desk and lowers to sit on the edge, setting me in front of him.
When he looks at me, I feel like a child who’s just been dragged into the principal’s office.
“How about you start by telling me what you were hoping to find?” His eyes brighten with malice, and his handsome face contorts into a devilish smile.
What do I tell him now?
The truth about the crest?
Given the fact that I think the bad memories are linked to my father, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.
“I was just looking around.”
“And the locked door tempted you to find a way to get in?” He quirks a hard brow.