Chapter 3

“Come.”

I obeyed. Shutting the door quietly behind me.

His expression remained ice-cold, one eyebrow furrowing in silent dismissal.

“Sit.”

It wasn’t a request. I eased myself slowly into the chair like it was something fragile, but the chair was a bit too low. I crashed harder than intended, my tits bouncing in compliance in my half-open shirt.

I felt his gaze linger for the tiniest fraction of a second, before snapping away like it was too painful to look at.

Well, damn, it wasn’t on purpose? Now he’s going to think I’m trying to get him to fall for me or something.

I smoothened out my skirt as I stayed quiet, waiting for the next reaction because speaking seemed like one hell of an impossible task for him.

As if pretending we never met wasn’t enough, he’s torturing me with silence too?

Asshole.

I swore he knew me. I saw his body fight for composure, the way he looked at me like I was irritating. That reaction didn’t come from nothing, it couldn’t have.

“Anyway, I don’t care if he doesn’t remember.” That was a lie. “He probably fucks a bunch of women, why should I be different anyway?” I thought to myself, exhaling as I tried to ignore the ache in my chest.

But God, it hurt.

It wouldn’t cost him a thing to say he was sorry, at least just once or to not look at me like I was a total stranger.

But no. He chose to be him.

“Miss Blackwood,” he said, his expression serious but not unkind. “Your role is to keep me organised, handle and know my schedule. Make sure this office runs smoothly at all times, especially in my absence. You’ll be the first person clients and visitors meet, so I expect you to represent me and this company with professionalism and warmth.”

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing slightly as he continued, “There are rules too, Miss Blackwood. I don’t tolerate tardiness or incompetence. If you’re late or make a mistake, there’ll be serious consequences. Getting fired is always an option.”

Was that a threat? Damn right it was. A warning, unapologetic. Cold. Remote. Exactly the kind of man he was.

For a moment, it felt like I was drowning in myself. I tried to keep my head up, to ignore everything I was feeling, but it felt impossible.

Because even if he was my boss, it didn’t excuse the fact that he humiliated me.

But he didn’t pause. Didn’t even flinch. “Your personal life stays completely off my table. What happens outside this office is none of my business, as long as it doesn’t affect your work.”

He kept going, his voice steady and unwavering, but firm, as if he was dictating to a waiter. “Don’t try to get close to me, ever. I don’t appreciate attempts to cross that line. Keep. Your. Distance. I am your boss and you work for me. That’s it”

My stomach tightened but I didn’t let it sit. “Yes Sir.”

Talk about crossing lines. Tch.

“I expect you to know where I need to be, when, and with whom before I do. I have a board meeting with the executives at 10 AM, so make sure my notes are ready. You’ll accompany me. All you have to do is takes notes and be quiet. You do not speak unless I permit you to.”

I nodded hastily, scribbling notes on my pad, like I wasn’t still affected from his coldness. "Yes, sir. Got it." I hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Would you like a cup of coffee, Sir.”

“Coffee would be great.”

****

Donovan.

The door clicked shut behind her.

I didn’t look up. Couldn’t. Not yet.

I kept my eyes fixed on the laptop in front of me. My hand gripped the pen so tight my knuckles went white.

“Just breathe.” I said to myself.

But then I caught it. That scent. Jasmine and something warm, sweet and unmistakably her.

I remember the way my jaw clenched. How I forced myself to look up, to meet those eyes that had haunted me for days.

Lord have mercy on me, she was even more devastating in daylight.

The words she’d said earlier hit me like a punch to the gut. The same voice that had gasped when I’d kissed down her neck that night. When I’d had her pressed against that bed, trembling beneath me. When her fingers had clawed at my shoulders, begging me not to stop.

I felt something crack inside my chest.

“Fuck.”

I kept my face blank, let one eyebrow lift in cold dismissal. “Come.” The word came out flatter than I intended, dripping with indifference I didn’t feel.

But I couldn’t forget. Because I remembered everything.

How she’d arched into my touch like she was starving for it. The taste of her neck, her collarbone, and the swell of her breast in my hand. The sound she’d made when I’d taken her nipple into my mouth. That desperate, breathy moan that nearly destroyed me.

I remembered.

How badly I’d wanted to keep going. How every cell in my body had screamed at me to take her, to show her what it felt like, to bury myself inside her and make her mine.

And how hard it had been to stop. To pull away when she’d told me she was a virgin.

I gestured to the chair. “Sit.”

She moved carefully, like she was afraid of me.

But then she dropped into the chair too fast and her body bounced, her blouse opening just enough to expose the curve of her breasts and the shadow of the lace bra underneath.

Fuck!

I looked away so fast it hurt, my throat tightened, my pulse hammering in places it shouldn’t. I dug my nails into my palm under the desk.

“She didn’t do it on purpose. Stop. Pull yourself together.”

But God, I'd thought about her every second since. I'd missed her, missed her scent, her voice, the way she'd looked at me like I was someone worth wanting. I'd tried to move on. Even scheduled another meeting with a different woman.

It didn’t work.

Now I can’t stop thinking of her.

Aurélie. No....Tess.

It was meant to be one night. But everything went to shit.

Now she was going to be sitting across my office with her pen over that notepad, her lips parted slightly as she pours everything on work.

God, I have to stop this. I was her boss now and I had to act like it.

So I did.

I recited my expectations like I was reading from a manual. Kept my voice flat, cold and detached. Told her my rules, the ones I designed to remind people who was in charge.

“Don’t try to get close to me. Keep your distance.”

I watched her face as I spoke. Saw the exact moment the words landed, how she it crushed her even though she’d tried to hide it. How her breath caught and her throat tightened.

She was infuriated. Hurting. I could see it. The way her hand trembled slightly as she scribbled notes she probably couldn’t bring herself to understand. How her breath quickened when I kept piling on rules without stopping.

She was overwhelmed. Drowning.

But I just kept going.

Because if I stopped, if she saw even a hint of the man I’d been that night, I wouldn’t know how come back from that.

So I made myself into something cruel. Something harsh. I dictated commands like she meant nothing, like I hadn’t spent every night since thinking about the feel of her skin on my palm.

Like I hadn’t missed her with an ache that felt rather physical and something deeper than that.

Like I hadn’t been a bit excited when I saw her standing right in front of me.

“You’ll accompany me to the board meeting. Take notes. Stay quiet. You don’t speak unless I permit you to.”

“Yes, Sir. Got it.” Her voice was small. Uncertain, like she was scared her tone would betray her.

And then she left to get me coffee I didn’t have to ask for.

The door closed.

I stared at the door. At the frosted glass that separated my office from hers. I could see her shadow moving on the other side.

She was right there.

Every day. Every single goddamn day, she’d be sitting outside my office. I’d see her when I arrived. When I left. When I stepped out for meetings. When I needed files. When I needed coffee.

When I needed her.

Damn it!

I shoved back from my desk, paced to the window. Stared out at the city below without seeing any of it.

This was a disaster. A complete fucking disaster.

How the hell was I supposed to function?!

How was I supposed to sit in meetings knowing she’d be sitting beside me?

How was I supposed to dictate workload while she stood there with her notepad, looking at me with those eyes, wearing those glasses that made her look both innocent and devastatingly hot?

How was I supposed to survive seeing her every single day and not touch her?

God, I have to. I don’t have a choice.

But my body didn’t care about choices. It was already responding to her closeness, yearning to feel what it would have felt like to claim her that night.

What the fuck should I do with myself now?

I couldn’t fire her and I couldn’t touch her either because that would be me crossing a line I swore never to cross.

But I couldn’t ignore her either. She was my secretary. I’d have to interact with her dozens of times a day.

I was trapped. Totally trapped.

And the most terrifying part?

I wanted to be trapped. Some sick, broken part of me was thrilled she was here, that I’d get to see her, that she was mine in some twisted, professional sense even though I couldn’t have her the way my body wanted.

You’re fucked, Donovan. Completely and monumentally fucked.

I heard her footsteps approaching. The soft click of her heels on the marble floor outside.

My entire body went rigid.

The door opened.

I didn’t turn around. Didn’t trust myself to look at her. I knew what she was here for.

“On the desk,” I said, my voice rough.

I heard her set it down. Heard her hesitate.

“Will that be all?”

God, no! Stay... Leave. Fuck! Come here. Or just get the hell out.

Shit.

“Yes.” I managed.

She left.

I stood there at the window, my reflection staring back at me in the glass. I knew damn well that I couldn’t win.

Because my addiction wasn’t miles away anymore.

She was right outside my door!

And I had no idea how the fuck I was going to handle it.