Page 29 of The Damaged Billionaire's Obsession
I need to leave. I dump the half-eaten salad I’ve lost all appetite for in the trash and grab my juice bottle when thekitchen door swings open for the second time, and Ethan comes back in again. This time, with his glasses on. He moves to the coffee machine.
He’s my boss but I’m too hurt and angry to not say anything.
“What was that about, Harvard? Did you run to get permission from outer space before interacting with another human being? Like you can’t act normal unless you’ve got those alien goggles on?”
“I’m not in the mood for your snarkiness tonight, Bonnie.” He growls, not sparing me a look.
“Do you even realize how horrible you’ve been to me?”
Actually, apart from the nice message he sent earlier today, he’s not had any contact with me since I started, so it’s probably not a fair or accurate accusation. The more apt word is that I feel ignored. But then, that’s not something I can complain to my boss about, is it?
“I see. Well, I apologize if I’ve come across that way.” His words sound condescending at best.
“Save it. It’s not like you plan to change.”
“Is this about the interview, Bonnie?” he asks softly. “You mean someone finally pointed out to you that there are some things you don’t know?”
“That is so not what this is about!” I reply hotly.
It is about the interview. And also the fact that he’d rather fling himself off a balcony than talk to me.
“Why then have you been obsessively working on correcting that imperfection and learning the Xerif programming language?”
“Don’t mistake my drive to make myself better for obsessing over your comments. I don’t care what you think.”
“Okay, so what’s this accusation about then? I treat you the same as everyone else,” he claims.
I gasp. “Really! I just checked my schedule. Do you know how many training sessions I have scheduled with you? Zero! How much more obvious could you be?”
He whirls on me, pinning me with his gaze for what feels like ages, and then he says in a voice that has suddenly grown husky, “You want me to train you?”
I can’t see his eyes beyond the damn glasses, but it sounds like he’s asking me something else.
“I couldn’t care less, I just don’t want to be treated like a leper.”
“Alright, Bonnie.” He advances toward me. He’s huge, and I instinctively take a few steps back until I’m trapped between the breakfast bar and his solid chest. My heart skips a few beats then starts to pound.
“Can you sheath your tongue long enough to take instructions?”
Wow. I can’t believe the nerve of this man. “Since being dumb and stupid is a requirement to make you feel like a leader, Harvard, I’ll take a freaking pass on your ‘training’.”
He says nothing. In the silence, I hear my erratic breathing.
Why the hell am I panting?
I don’t know for how long we stand like that, but it’s only when he licks his lips and a jolt goes through me that I realize that I’ve been staring at his mouth.
He slowly puts his coffee on the counter beside me, and I feel his eyes all over me, but all I see when I look at him is the reflection of my flushed face. My lips are tingling. What is he looking at? I need to see his eyes.
“Take them off.” My voice comes out breathy. He doesn’t move, so I raise my hand to his face and drag off the glasses.
He takes them from my hand, leaving them on the counter beside his coffee.
God, I love his eyes.Staring into depths of his irises, I now get why my skin prickles and heats when his gaze is directed at me. They’re scorching hot. And what I see in them right now is like a shot of heroin in my veins.
He’s squinting, but looking at me like he never wants to stop. Like I’m the most exciting thing he’s ever seen. Like he’s trying to read my innermost thoughts. I’ve never been looked at like that before. It’s exhilarating and scary. And incredibly arousing. My nipples tighten, and a delicious throbbing starts deep in my pelvis.
It’s happening again. This arrogant, infuriating man is turning me on. Still, he says nothing, he just continues to burn me up with his heated gaze.