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Dear God, this man may just be the death of me.
“You know every time you open that pretty mouth and something sarcastic comes out, I’m counting.”
I press my legs together. Oh, yes, Daddy.
“Is that right?”
“Yes. And rest assured, I’m very much into public displays of affection where your arse is concerned.”
“Glad to hear it.” My heart beats so rapidly in my chest, I’m afraid I might combust. “I kind of gathered that last night in the car.”
“That was me in a good mood. Now, tell me what you have planned for today.”
Uh, oh. What?
I rack my brain. I don’t think he’s asked me to do anything, but as I see the displeased look on his face, I think back to what might make him happy. The one thing that he’s insisted that I do. My eyes meet his and then I smile. “I’m going to go and burn a hole in your credit card, Daddy.”
It takes a few moments, but the smile slowly spreads across his face. “That’s my good girl.”
Chapter Twenty
Alistair
I try to keep my mind on the job, but how can I when my princess is sitting in front of me with a sheer blouse — one I can see her pebbled nipples through — and those slacks that hug her perfect little arse. It makes me want to lock my door and fuck her over my desk. And maybe I will if she keeps looking at me like that.
“I plan on making a dent so big, you’ll have no choice but to go to pound town.”
“Please never use that phrase again.”
“Why not? Clearly, you’ve no idea that I once entered a shopping competition where I had to load a trolley full of shit in less than a minute in K-Mart. Whoever had the most value in their trolley, won the lot.”
“Let me guess, you won?”
She beams proudly. “Electrical,” she tells me. “You’ve gotta get those big ticket items. Though I ended up with more scented candles than I know what to do with.”
This woman is a complete nutcase. And I find myself loving listening to her speak about any given subject, even if it is about filling up a trolley on K-Mart.
“Seems I’ve got a new personal shopper on my hands, should the occasion arise.”
Her eyes dip down my body. “I certainly hope it arises.” She bites down on her lip.
Focus!
I slide the manilla folder over to her. “Here’s the paperwork my attorney sent over along with your bank information which I’ll need asap. Read through it thoroughly, Charlize. We can discuss it later over dinner. I have meetings all day so I won’t be home until eight. Dom was making fresh cottage pie today.”
She takes the folder and doesn’t even open it. “I know. I smelled it when I got up. Do you know he made that for the Queen?”
“He’ll tell anyone who’ll listen,” I chuckle. Then I stop myself. Chuckling isn’t what I do, and not at work. Sure, me and Jerard might share a joke every now and again, but we’ve been working together for years.
I watch as she parts those pretty lips and glances around my office. She does this from time to time; avoids my gaze when she’s nervous or wants to say something but won’t.
I don’t want her to hide from me.
“Spit it out,” I say.
“It’s just… I’ll have to go home and grab some more of my things; that’s if I’m staying again tonight.”
I stare at her. “Do you want to stay tonight?”
