"I said no. Pick it up yourself, asshole."
"Don’t call me that."
"Why shouldn’t I? You’ve been behaving like a dickhead from the moment I met you. I never understood what Lila saw in you. I’m glad she’s rid of you."
"But you’re not." He rises slowly to his feet and keeps rising and rising.
I have to tilt my head back to meet his gaze. Shoot. I forgot how tall… how big this man is. His shoulders are so massive, they block the view of the windows behind him.
"Pick. Up. The. Pen," he says through gritted teeth.
"And if I don’t?"
He stretches out his arm, pulls at his cuff, then the other. Then he lowers his hands to his sides and fixes me with a glare. "No one says no to me. No one."
I snort. "I just did, in case you didn’t notice."
"Oh, I did notice." He prowls out from behind his desk toward me.
My knees tremble, and I half-angle my body away from him. I dart my gaze toward the door and he clicks his tongue. "I wouldn’t if I were you."
"You don’t scare me, douchenozzle."
He blinks, seeming to be momentarily taken aback. "Did you take a course in cheap insults?"
"No, I merely spend time in the company of normal people, the kind you’ll never know because you spend all your time in this ivory tower cut off from the real world."
"The kind of world I inhabit teaches me all kinds of skills, little bunny." He takes another step forward, and I sidle back.
"Don’t call me that."
"Afraid it’s a name that’s going to suit you when you—"
I turn around and make a run for the door, then yelp when strong fingers clamp around my wrist. I’m turned around and yanked forward. I fall against that massive chest of his. Bergamot and mint and something musky—the scent of him envelopes me. I bury my nose in his shirt, draw in a deep breath, and my head spins.
Then, just as suddenly, I’m free. I stumble back, but he doesn’t right me. I glance up to find he’s staring down at me with an inscrutable look on his face.
"Better not start something you can’t finish," he snaps. He steps back, and the air rushes between us.
I draw in a huge lungful of air, already missing his scent, the warmth of his body, the feel of those rock-hard abs under my palms.
He slides into his chair and turns to his screen again.
Guess I’m dismissed then.
I turn to leave, and his voice stops me. "Oh, and I’ll pick you up at 5 o’clock this evening."
I spin around. "What do you mean?”
"You’re going to meet my family."
"M-meet your family?"
"My mother, actually. You didn’t think I was going to spring the surprise of a new bride on her at my wedding, did you?"
Yes, that’s exactly what I thought.
"I… I can’t make it tonight. I need to work on the remaining preparations."