Page 40 of Her Filthy Cold Billionaire Boss

But there was no one in the hall as I scurried to the kitchen.

Maribel smirked when she saw me. “Sleep well, honey?”

“Like a log,” I lied, face blazing.

She winked, but let me go.

I was too early for breakfast, so I grabbed a coffee to go and made a beeline for the garden, dodging fat raindrops, desperate for air. The paths were muddy from last night’s rain, the roses dropping their petals like confetti, the scent so thick it was almost sickly. I made for the gazebo, my new favorite refuge, and collapsed onto the cold stone bench, phone clutched in both hands.

I opened a text thread with Ruby and typed:

I made a terrible, wonderful mistake.

The reply was instant, as always.

You fucked him, didn’t you?

My face blazed white-hot and prickling tingles – that feeling of being caught – rushed over me. The time passing had her giddy.

You did! Omg. Details. Is this about Mr. Tall Dark and Psychotic?

Please don’t call him that. He’s actually sort of sweet, when he’s not mad. It was Olympic-level. I think I sprained something.

Was it consensual, or did he just glower you into submission?

I couldn’t hold back a smile as the memories rushed over me.I started it. He finished it. Several times.

Holy shit. Is it serious?

I hesitated, thumbs hovering. The answer was yes, but I couldn’t say it.

So I played it safe.It’s complicated.

You love him, don’t you?I read it in her disappointed voice.

I don’t know. Maybe. Yes? Also, he’s my boss and I signed an NDA with a no-fraternizing clause?

Girl. You are living a lawsuit waiting to happen.

I shook my head, even though she couldn’t see me.It’s fine. Probably. He left before I woke up and left a note to meet him for breakfast.

Maybe he’s scared? Or maybe he’s just an emotionally stunted man-child.

I shrugged.Both. But he called me “perfect” last night, so that’s something.

UGH. I’m so happy for you and also so scared. Don’t get murdered, okay?

If I do, check the koi pond.The koi were cursed, everyone was sure of it.

Of course. Love you.

Love you, too.

I set the phone down, staring out at the falling rain, the gardener’s boot prints, the tangle of blooms. Everything was too bright, too alive. The old me would have second-guessed, spiraled, spent hours rehashing every word, every touch. But now there was only the low, constant pulse of wanting. I’d had him, and now I wanted more.

A cough interrupted my reverie. Leo stood at the edge of the gazebo, hands jammed in his pockets, face unreadable.

“Hey,” he said, voice low. “You got a minute?”