“Oh. Okay. Learning how this works.”
“I’ll find you later and give you some survival tips.”
“Thank you. I’d really appreciate that.”
The line goes dead and I buzz my new boss’s office. “Shane has the deal memo but he isn’t in right now.”
“Fuck! Go to Jessica’s desk. Find him.” The intercom goes silent.
“You just found him.”
My breath lodges in my throat at the oh so familiar voice. I set the receiver down and look up, finding Shane towering over me, his blue suit fitted to perfection over a body I’ve seen naked. His expression is pure fury.
“Shane, I can explain.”
“Follow me,” he commands. “And don’t even think about refusing.”
“Emily,” Mr. Brandon says over the intercom.
Shane shakes his head, silently forbidding my reply and my stomach rolls. I need money. I need this job and I’m about to lose it. He turns and starts walking. I squeeze my eyes shut and swallow hard before jumping to my feet and following him. I glance down at my outfit, confirming my simple light blue dress, paired with a black jacket, is conservative enough for church. No cleavage. No clinging to the wrong places. No wrong message. Well. Except that I slept with him and he thinks … I don’t know what he thinks. And oh yeah. I left without a good-bye when he wanted me to stay. I wanted to stay but I can’t show that and I’m really not sure it matters anymore. And I can’t even explain why I left without lying.
We pass through the lobby and I don’t even consider looking at the receptionist. I just stare ahead and keep tracking behind him, traveling a hallway that feels eternal. At a fork, Shane cuts left, assuming I’m following, and of course, I do. Almost immediately we’re headed toward a corner office with a striking blonde I assume to be Jessica sitting at a desk outside the entrance. I catch her curious look and quickly cut my gaze.
Shane doesn’t speak to her, walking directly to what I assume to be his office door. He disappears inside and I follow, hesitating a step before the threshold to steel myself for what is to come. The instant I’m inside, his hand comes down on my arm, and he shuts the door. I blink and I’m against it, and his big body is framing mine, legs trapping my legs, both of his hands now on my shoulders.
“What kind of game are you playing?”
“Game? No. No game. I had no idea—”
“Bullshit. You’re working for my brother.”
“What? No. It’s your father—”
“Is that why he showed at the restaurant? Is that how he knew we were there? You told him.”
“Shane, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t fucking play coy, Emily. What’s the endgame here?”
“I’m really confused.”
“I’m not. They want you to get inside my head. Well, it won’t work. They’re in it and they’ve pissed me off. Tell my brother or my father I’m taking over this company and they can’t stop me.”
“Shane, I really—”
“You’re a good actress. Because I bought all that innocent, sweet bullshit, and thought you were actually honest. I thought you needed help.”
“Let me go,” I hiss, shoving at his chest, furious now myself.
His hands settle on my ribcage just beneath my breasts, scorching me inside and out. “I’m not done with you yet.”
“I didn’t know who you were.”
“And yet, as you pointed out, you just happened to be at the security desk when I came downstairs.”
“I didn’t know who you were,” I repeat. “And I needed this job.”
“How much did he pay you to fuck me? Do you get a bonus for doing it again?” His hands slide to my breast.
“Stop!” I shove at his hand, punching his chest. “Stop it damn it, or I’ll shout.”
He steps back from me, holding up his hands. “Whatever, sweetheart.”
“Don’t call me sweetheart.” I hug myself, feeling violated by a man who had made me feel special last night. “And you’re the good actor. I actually thought you were charming and sexy and now I just think you’re an asshole.” I turn and reach for the door handle. He’s behind me in an instant, his hard body pressed against mine, my hands flattening on the wooden surface. “Stop,” I whisper, and damn it, I flashback to us naked, touching, kissing, and how good he’d felt. How right when he was obviously very, horribly wrong.
His hands settle at my waist, one finding my belly and flattening.
“I read you so wrong.”
“If you say so,” I choke out, emotion balled in my throat.
He turns me around and worse than touching me, he isn’t touching me. His hand settles on the door, above my head, and those gray eyes I’ve seen blazing with heat, are now pure ice. “I do say so.”
“I’m not what you think I am, Shane, and I need this job, but if I’m fired, just say so and let me start looking for another.”
“Mr. Brandon to you. Remember that.”
“Then you remember I’m not your ‘sweetheart.’”
“Until you’re paid to be, right?”