Page 56 of Hate to Love You
It’s clear that her response is just her attempt to take the attention off herself, and the fact that I’m making her squirm is incredibly hot to me.
“Well, to be fair I didn’t ask you for that information,” I smirk at her, folding my hands across the desk. “You volunteered it.”
“Oh shit…I did,” she whispers under her breath, biting her bottom lip.
Oh God…those lips. Fuck. I want them on mine. Now.
No. I can’t lose focus. I was just gaining the upper hand.
By some strange providence, The Brunette, apparently also known as “Abigail Wayne” is sitting in my office, applying for a position with my company. And I’ve just been handed an amazing opportunity.
Abigail needs a job. I need a secretary.
It’s the perfect situation to covertly get to know the woman I’ve secretly desired for the better part of the decade…with an ideal role to play as cover: Her boss.
“Don’t worry,” I say, with a wink. “I’ll make a note that if we do make you an offer, ‘ass’ if off the table. And at the very least, I think we certainly can do better than minimum wage.”
“Great,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Well, at least that’s something.”
“Look, why don’t we just start over.”
“Perfect!” She says, enthusiastically, before clearing her throat. “I mean, yes, I think that would be good.”
“Miss…Wayne, was it?” I say, catching her dark brown eyes again. “Why don’t you start from the beginning, and just tell me about yourself?”
“What would you like to know?”
I grin.
“Everything.”
As she begins to tell me about her limited employment history, it’s clear she isn’t qualified to be my secretary. She has the education, but no real experience in the “secretary” or executive assistant department.
But I don’t give a shit.
There won’t be a second interview, and I won’t be seeing any other applicants.
This ‘job’ was Abigail’s the moment she sat her fine ass down in my office. I’ve wanted her from afar for longer than I can remember, and now that I have her, there’s no fucking way I’m letting her go.
Chapter Ten
ABBY
The cool air hits me straight in the face as I fly from the revolving doors, my entire body burning for a man I just met.
I have never, ever, had a reaction to someone like that.
It was so strong…and primal. It was like there was a voice inside me demanding I mount that man and consume him like he was oxygen.
I’ve never felt a need like that before.
His voice was like velvet, the rumble of it vibrating inside me, unlocking every single buried desire I’ve ever had. My entire being felt off balance, spiraling out of my control.
Roman Nikolai Antonov was a prick really, a rude, snobby, awful man. And he had no right to be that attractive.
He glided into that room, like he owned the place.
Well, I guess to be fair, he does own it.