No wonder the two men hated each other.
When she looked up again, she saw movement near the far end of the hallway. It was Cullen Sharpe, watching her from the entrance to the private room.
“Unbelievable,” she muttered, shaking her head. She spun and continued walking towards the restrooms, her heart racing as she went.
He saw us together. He knows Xavier Montrose gave me his card.
Who cares if he knows? You don’t owe Cullen Sharpe anything.
And yet, as much as she tried to tell herself that she owed Cullen no loyalty, something inside her continued to struggle with the idea that he’d seen her take Xavier’s card.
She knew that Cullen would be right behind her now, catching up to her. Any moment his hand would fall on her shoulder and that deep voice of his would speak, telling her how disappointed he was in her behavior.
But when she reached the door to the restroom and turned around, there was nobody behind her.
Nobody at all.
About an hour later, Ivy was back at the office and at her desk, working and trying hard to pretend that everything was normal.
I’m just a girl working a temp job, doing data entry and making a little money. That’s it. There doesn’t have to be anything else going on.
But she knew that things had progressed far past that point. She wasn’t just some worker bee doing her job and going home, living a normal life. The CEO had taken an interest in her—a very particular interest.
She could still remember what it felt like to strip naked in front of him, to know that his hungry, cool eyes were watching, examining her nude body as she let him control her every move.
And then he’d ultimately turned her down, found her lacking.
But he was still sending very mixed signals, wasn’t he?
Ivy pulled Xavier Montrose’s business card out of her blazer pocket and stared at it yet again. She fingered the intricate logo that was swirling in the corner of the card, thinking about whether she was simply considering the man’s offer because she wanted to somehow get back at Cullen.
Or was she genuinely intrigued by Cullen Sharpe’s rival?
She wished she knew.
Sighing, Ivy put the card away and got back to her data entry. She’d begun to find the work easy but tedious. Some temps had been let go for falling behind pace or making too many errors, but Ivy was fairly certain she was in no danger.
She found the work to be, if anything, not challenging enough.
Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she replayed, again and again, what had happened between her and Cullen Sharpe early that morning at his home.
The feel of his hand on her naked body, his finger sliding deliciously between her legs, soaking her…
Even now, she was getting excited all over again, despite trying to distract herself and think of anything but him.
Damn him. I hate him. What he did to me was wrong.
She took a deep breath and refocused.
Do your work and stop thinking about Cullen. When you leave work, you’ll call Xavier Montrose. He was friendly, funny, didn’t take himself so seriously. He’s a much better romantic possibility—he put himself out there without demanding capitulation from you.
That settled that.
And then an intranet chat bubble popped up on her computer screen. The internal chat system of Biomatrix Pharma was something she knew existed only because Lucas had sent her one or two chats.
None of the other temps had ever chatted with her, though Ivy had a feeling they were all communicating amongst themselves. They just didn’t like or trust her enough to include her in such activities.
But now the little box popped up on her monitor, indicating that someone was sending her a message. When she saw the name inside the chat bubble, Ivy felt dizzy and breathless.
CULLEN SHARPE: I told you to stay away from him.
That was all it said. She waited for him to follow up, but after a minute, she realized he wasn’t going to expand on the sentiment.
Her anxiety transformed into annoyance. Her fingers flew over the keys as she wrote back to him.
IVY SPELLMAN: He’s nice. And it’s none of your business.
There was a long pause, and Ivy smiled, imagining Cullen reading it and his head nearly exploding from her defiance.
CULLEN SHARPE: I’ve made you my business. And he’s not nice.
She frowned, her belly tightening, a chill running up her spine. Her fingers flew over the keys yet again.
IVY SPELLMAN: You’re not nice, either. Who do you think you are telling me what to do or whom I can speak with?
Now the responses from Cullen were coming faster, as were her return volleys. They went back and forth, back and forth, so fast she could hardly keep up.
CULLEN SHARPE: I’m the one in charge.
IVY SPELLMAN: At work. Nowhere else.
CULLEN SHARPE: Everywhere. And someone needs to protect you.
IVY SPELLMAN: You call what you do “protection?” Don’t make me laugh…