“The Chihuahua was hairless.”
“What kind of animal did the raptor see in the bar?”
“A dove. And I didn’t say raptor, I said predatory night bird. And it wasn’t in a bar, it was in a clearing.”
We stare at each other. Neither of us smiles. The room feels stuffy and too small. I have no idea if we’re fighting or flirting. I’ve had root canals more pleasant than this.
“Predatory night bird? So you’re an owl.”
A faint look of disgust crosses his handsome face. “I’m not an owl.”
“You sure? You kinda resemble an owl.”
“In what way do I resemble an owl?”
“Lots of ways. Big unblinking eyes. Stocky body. No neck.”
He narrows his eyes at me. I resist the urge to stick out my tongue.
Our stalemate is interrupted when someone knocks on the door. We turn to see a young man standing outside. He’s tall, handsome, and looks a lot like Cole, except he’s blond. Smiling broadly, he raises a hand and wiggles his fingers in greeting.
Cole walks to the door and opens it. I can tell by the new tension in his shoulders that he’s irritated by this arrival. To the man standing outside, he says brusquely, “You’re interrupting.”
“Yeah, I can see that.” He chuckles, then leans around Cole and grins at me. “Hi there. I’m Carter, Cole’s brother. I hear you’re his new assistant.”
“Hi, Carter. I’m Shay. And yes, I’m your brother’s new assistant, but I’m not sure for how long.”
Horrified, Carter looks at Cole. His tone turns accusing. “It’s not even nine o’clock! What crap are you putting this poor girl through already?”
Cole turns and gives me a lethal look. I return it with a sweet smile.
At least one of the McCord brothers is on my side.
Cole
As always, my little brother has impeccable fucking timing.
I turn away from Shay’s smiling face and tell him to get lost. Then I slam shut the door and turn back to her again.
“That’s a nasty habit of yours,” she notes as the door rattles in its frame.
“It’s one of many. What did you mean you’re not sure how long you’ll be my assistant?”
Her expression indicates she thinks I’m an absolute idiot. And an asshole to boot.
Through clenched teeth, I say, “What’s that look?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
This woman. This stubborn, infuriating woman. Drawing a deep breath, I start to count to ten. I only make it to two before I snap. “I’m not going to fire you, if that’s what you meant.”
“Maybe that’s not what I meant.”
When I only stare at her with a growl rumbling through my chest, she relents.
“Okay, that’s what I meant. Are you?”
“I just said I wasn’t.”
“I know, but I’m giving you a chance to change your mind.”
“Why would I change my mind?”
She gives me her you’re-an-idiot-and-an-asshole look again. I suspect it will become her signature expression. I’d take her over my knee and give her a spanking she’d remember forever, but the goddamn walls are made of glass.
And she works for me now. I can’t spank an employee.
No matter how much I want to.
I cross the few steps from the door to where she’s standing, lean close to her face, and speak in a low, deliberate voice while staring into her eyes. “I’m not firing you. Are you going to quit?”
All sass and defiance, she lifts her chin. “No.”
“Good.”
When she arches one perfect brow, I amend that to, “I mean, fine. If that’s your decision.”
“That’s my decision.”
“Fine.”
“Good.”
“So that’s it, then.”
“Yes.”
“So get to work.”
“I plan to.”
“When?”
“The minute some reasonable person who doesn’t think he’s an owl shows me what the hell I’m supposed to be doing.”
I want to spank her so goddamn bad, my palm itches. Nobody ever speaks to me with this kind of disrespect. With her tart, airy, fuck-you tone. Nobody.
I’m the fucking CFO!
Something in my expression makes her smile again. Which, of course, royally pisses me off.
“Let me make something perfectly clear, Shay—”
“Ms. Sanders.”
“Pardon me?”
“I prefer that you call me Ms. Sanders. To keep things professional.”
If I don’t end up tearing all my hair out by the time I leave this office, it will be a fucking miracle.
Also, I really want to kiss her, which is problematic on many levels. Especially as “kiss” is a euphemism for bend her over the desk, tear off her panties, shove my hard cock inside her, and listen to her scream my name when she comes.
Her eyes widen. Her lashes flutter. She clears her throat and moistens her lips. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
So you’re nervous now. Good.
My smile is evil. “You don’t want to know. But here’s something you should know. We have a strict policy in this company about workplace relationships. Particularly relationships between superiors and subordinates. They’re not allowed. Period. Understood?”
“I’m well aware. I had to read through all the HR rules and sign off on them before I started.” Feigning innocence, she adds, “Why would you mention that?”
What I say is “You know exactly why.”
What I mean is Because I need to see your reaction. I need to know if you’ve thought of me the way I’ve obsessively thought of you. I need to know if you’ve touched yourself while remembering that night the way I have. I need to know if it was more for you than casual sex.
Most of all, I need to know if you want to do it again.
Because if the answer is yes, the rules be damned. I already know I’d break any rule to have her again. I’d break every rule there is just to taste her mouth one more time.
Her voice cool and her composure perfect, she says, “I assure you, Cole, I won’t enter into a personal relationship with anyone at this corporation. Especially a superior. I would never risk my position here for something so trivial as that.”
I can tell she means it. She wants nothing to do with me.
Fuck.
We stare each other down for one long, crackling moment of silence, until it feels as if the air will combust.
Then I drop my gaze to her luscious lips, imagining how they looked stretched around the head of my cock. My voice comes out throaty. “It’s Mr. McCord.”
Forcing myself to look away from her mouth, I meet her gaze. “Like you said, Ms. Sanders, let’s keep things professional.”
I walk to the door and pull it open, but before I walk out, I turn back, hardening my voice. “And from now on, I expect you to be on time.”
She answers without missing a beat. “I will be. Thank you for stopping by, Mr. McCord.”
Without a goodbye, I turn around and walk out, determined never to set foot in her office again.
Shay
I watch him stride through the forest of cubicles toward the elevators until I’m reasonably sure he’s not going to turn around and run back in to snarl some new unpleasantry at me. Then I walk around my desk, sink into the chair, and stare at the wall, stunned.
My hands shake. My heart pounds. I’m ninety percent sure my face is the color of a tomato.
But because I’ve got dozens of people staring in my direction through the glass walls, I can’t throw myself facedown onto my desk and scream or start shouting obscenities as I normally might. I keep it together with sheer willpower until the urge to do something dramatic passes, which is conveniently when Simone shows up again.
She knocks softly on the doorframe. “May I come in?”
“Of course. I was just…” Dazed, I look around the office. “Um. Settling in.”
She chuckles. Hands on her hips, she approaches my desk. “Letting the dust settle, more likely. You okay?”
“Yes.”
“I only ask because you look like you could use a stiff drink.”
I meet her amused gaze and shake my head. “Is he always so…”
“Bad-tempered? Yes. You get used to it after a while. If you last long enough, he’ll start to treat you like a human.”