Several chairs were scattered about the room. All had a stack of paper seated on them, and in the far corner, there was actually another desk, buried under piles of paper and barely visible. I could start there, that way Knightley wouldn’t notice and I wouldn’t feel overwhelmed. I took the first slice of papers from the top of the pile. I might be forty by the time I’d finished.
As I headed back to the door, I glanced around the room, imagining Knightley at his desk. Despite him being moody and mercurial, there was a pull I felt toward him that was something more than his nice ass. I wanted to please him, have him understand that although I had no career, money, or prospects, I could if I’d made different choices. I also wanted him to kiss me, hold me like he had in Lincoln’s Inn Fields.
Seven
Alexander
Court had been a shambles. I’d been completely prepared and then totally let down when six days into the trial, five more witness statements landed in front of me just minutes before we were due to start closing arguments. The judge hadn’t been impressed, and he’d adjourned the trial for three weeks. My client was unhappy, the solicitors were furious, and although I had to act as if I was taking it all in my stride, if opposing counsel had come near me, I was likely to have punched him.
I pushed open the door of chambers with my foot, my arms full with my wig, robe, and stack of files. The door smashed into the wall, the whole building vibrating with the force. But at least it released some of my frustration at the other side’s incompetence. I’d need to drink, run, or fuck to get rid of the rest.
Clerks backed into doorways as I stormed up the corridor to my office. I slung my wig and gown across the floor, narrowly missing several towers of paper.
“Knightley?” a woman asked from just in front of my desk.
It wasn’t as if I hadn’t noticed Violet King had been coming into my office each time I left for court. She tried to cover her tracks, but the whisper of her jasmine perfume lingered in the air, reminding me of the summer I spent in India before my final year at Cambridge, and gave her away. Well, that and the fact that the papers in the far corner of the room had been disappearing. She couldn’t think I wouldn’t notice. I knew the exact location of each and every thing in my office.
“Miss King, what are you doing in my office?” Today was the wrong day for her to push her luck. Unless she was handing me a glass of whiskey or prepared to slide to her knees to suck my cock, which twitched whenever she was close, she needed to leave me in peace.
She regarded me from over her shoulder, her red lips parted slightly. “I didn’t expect you back.”
“That doesn’t explain why you’re on your knees in front of my desk.” I had to hold back a growl as it was exactly where I wanted her.
“I’m doing my job,” she replied.
“Your job is to assist me. You’re not assisting me if you’re distracting me.”
“I’m just picking up some files for archiving,” she said, looking up at me, her forehead bunched. “How am I being distracting?”
I shouldn’t have used the word, but distracting was exactly what she was. Did she have no clue how sexy she was? Just the way she moved, the curve of her mouth, the way her skirt was a little too tight and a little too short, it was all too tempting.
I realized I was fixating on her hips, her legs, her heels and when I quickly looked up and met her eyes, she looked back at me, her eyebrows raised. She knew that I’d been taking in her phenomenal body, trying to commit each part to memory so I could imagine it later. Instead of admonishing me or scurrying away, she simply let her gaze trail down my body, her tongue darting out to wet her lips just before her eyes met mine.
“Yeah, well, you’re pretty distracting too,” she said. “But I’m not complaining. I’m trying to work. I don’t know who the hell stuck a pole up your ass today, but it sure as hell wasn’t me, so be nice.”
“Be nice?” I bellowed, moving toward her. No one had spoken to me like that since boarding school.
“Yes. Stop being an asshole for a second of your day. I’m trying to help you and you’re not going to frighten me off.”
Oh, she was so sacked. “I’m an arsehole? Is that what you called me?” I stood over her, looking down as she kneeled in front of me. Christ, I swore her mouth was twenty centimeters from my dick.
“It’s good to know you’re not deaf,” she said, her blue eyes gazing up at me so innocently I could almost forget how insolent she was being.
“Is this normally how you speak to your employer?” I asked, fisting my hands. I had the distinct urge to pull this woman to her feet and kiss the impertinence right out of her.
Her eyes narrowed a little as if she was really trying to remember whether this was normal behavior for her. I didn’t want it to be. I wanted the side of her that I saw, however challenging and inappropriate, to be reserved especially for me.
“Maybe,” she replied. “Is this normally how you speak to women who are on their knees trying to assist you?” She gasped as she realized how provocative her question was. She’d gone too far and she knew it.
My heart slammed against my chest and our eyes locked. I didn’t respond. Didn’t trust myself not to reach for her. All I could hear was my heavy breath as she got to her feet and stood in front of me. We were just a finger’s width away from each other. She tipped her head back as she continued to hold my gaze.
Neither of us looked away as if we knew whatever happened next would be crucial. If she touched me I wouldn’t be able to hold back.
“Miss King,” I said, my tone warning. She needed to understand the next thing she said would have consequences. I couldn’t remember the last time I wanted to fuck a woman so badly. I’d always enjoyed sex. It was the ultimate way to blow off steam, but it was rarely much if anything to do with the particular woman in front of me and rather just an internal desire. In that moment I wanted to fuck, but more importantly, I wanted to fuck Violet King. I was pretty sure she was encouraging me, so she needed to be careful. She was playing with fire.
“Mr. Knightley,” she replied, her breathing uneven.
I clenched my jaw, trying to regain control of my instincts. I was a second away from cupping her face and kissing her into next week, a minute away from yanking down her underwear and thrusting my fingers into her. I couldn’t look away. Something was pulling me toward her, drawing me in.
Her teeth plunged into her bottom lip as if she were considering her options.
My heart racing, I reached out and swept my thumb along her mouth, and she released her lip. I paused, enjoying her hot, soft flesh and the buzz that hummed under my skin where I touched her. She was beautiful and I wanted her but we were in my office, in the middle of the day and she was a member of staff. This couldn’t happen however much I might want it to. Even if she was encouraging me.
“I suggest you get out of my office and let me get back to work,” I said. “Now.”
She blinked and turned away sharply.
I exhaled, grateful that she’d freed me from her spell.
“Shit,” she said, grabbing her hip. “My good skirt.”