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What a prick.
With a growl, I tromped up the steps, slamming the double doors to his office open. He sat behind his desk, sprawled on his seat like a big cat, playing with something in his hand.
I propped an elbow against the doorframe, refusing to cower or shrink in front of him. “’Sup?”
Pink bubble gum popped between my lips.
He looked abhorred. He always looked abhorred. “Is that gum you’re chewing?”
I arched a brow. “Yeah. Problem?”
He shook his head, ignoring my provocation. “You need to pay extra attention to the ballroom today. The decorator and catering staff are already there, shifting things around. They’re creating a mess.”
Another party?Why?
Even aliens galaxies away could see he absolutely detested large gatherings.
But I knew the answer.
Constance.
Always Constance.
“Got it. Anything else?”
He spared me a glance. An odd thought struck me.
I wonder what those eyes look like when they’re in love.
“You haven’t made my bed yet.”
“Had an early morning. Will do it now. Is that all?”
He traced his sharp jawline with his finger, mulling it in his head. Was hetryingto find more tasks for me? Why was he being extra tool-baggy today?
“You need to clean all the windows on the first floor. We can’t allow the photos with flash to show any markings of raindrops or fingerprints.”
I frowned. “I did all the windows yesterday.”
“Do them again.”
I noticed, for the first time, that Zach held the cigar holder I’d used to play with myself. I recognized the unique metal barrel and golden cap.
He toyed with it, flipping it between his fingers.
“They’re squeaky clean.” I threw my hands up, losing it. “Why would I redo them? It makes no sense.”
“You’re not here to make sense, Octi. You are here to take my orders.”
Zach put the cap in his mouth, and I swallowed hard.
This thing was inside me.
This was why he’d wanted me to leave the cigar holder behind. So he could taste me.
Something simmered in my veins.
Desire? Rage?
