Page 10 of Assistant to the Villain

Thankfully, he’d been a butcher, which was a boon for Evie, since she’d grown up around blood and corpses, and now that very trade was her profession. Although seeing animal corpses was very different than seeing the corpses of human men.

As she sat down at her desk and began her daily chore of balancing their ledgers, she reminded herself that at least today, her desk was clean. She’d only been working an hour when something crashed against the wall behind her—and made her jump right out of her chair, her rear hitting the floor with an embarrassing thud. Her arms had hit the papers as she fell, too, two hours’ work organizing invoices falling around her like paper snowflakes.

Amateur move, Evie.

She knew she always had to be on alert with her desk so close to the boss’s office.

She watched as the last paper drifted down onto her chest, not bothering to pick herself or the work up yet. Something or someone had most certainly been slammed against the wall… Anothercrash, followed by two softer thuds and glass shattering.

And there goes the framed picture I just rehung last week.

Still on the floor, feeling ridiculous, Evie turned over and went to her knees to pick up the papers strewn about. “Ouch,” she muttered softly, rubbing at her backside.

But she might as well have yelled, given the way the black door of The Villain’s office jerked open, shaking the walls and making the rest of the workers freeze. Evie slowly looked up from the papers in her hands, her vision catching first on the tip of a shiny black boot and then moving upward. Dark pants intended to be loose but instead hugged muscular thighs that were attached to an impressive torso.

Her eyes skipped past the loose V in his puffy black shirt that exposed the strong top of his chest. Even rumpled, he looked distractingly attractive.

When her gaze finally reached his face, she had to swallow a sigh and bury it where nobody would ever find it. But how could she help it? His jaw was sharp and angled enough that it could be a weapon itself, strong enough to make her insides quiver.

Don’t let the boss quiver your insides, Evie.

She used to think the hardest part of him to look at was his eyes. A startling black that pulled you in, a web meant to ensnare your soul. They were the type of eyes that begged you to look away, but Evie ignored that plea, because they were very nice to look at.

And his mouth.

Perhaps the most expressive part of his face, every change so slight but so rich in meaning that she’d begun to catalog them. For instance, right now his mouth was pulled tight. When she glanced back up at his eyes, he was staring down at her. His head was tilted slightly, and her stomach did a flip as she wondered what he must be thinking about her being on her hands and knees, like she was playing a ridiculous game of leapfrog.

Is he confused? Confounded? About to kill me for my clumsiness?

He slowly bent his knees, kneeling until he was eye level with her.

Lacking the fundamental intimidation she should be feeling, Evie instead smiled brightly at the man the entire kingdom lived in fear of. “Good morning, sir.” A muffled groan came from within the boss’s office. Raising her brows and angling her head to look past his, she added, “Having a busy morning, are we?”

The boss raised his brows back at her. “Quite.” Shaking his head as if rattled by his own answer, he began gathering the rest of her strewn-about papers before placing them on her desk.

Evie put her foot down to stand and winced, earning a sharp look from the evil incarnate standing before her. His mouth twisted down into a frown. He was…angry? Of course he was angry. Evie had interrupted his business by falling flat on her ass.

She started to pull herself up with one hand on the edge of the desk, but the boss gripped either side of her waist and lifted her before she could protest. Not that she would’ve, had she had time to, because his large hands were, well, very nice.

When she was finally on her feet, he dropped his hands in an instant, clenching them at his sides. Warmth stole up her cheeks as she awkwardly tried to look anywhere but at his face, afraid she might see a smirk or worse, and landed upon the open V of his black shirt.

And her mouth, for some gods-forsaken reason, decided to produce an excess of saliva.

Evangelina Celia Sage, if you choose this moment to drool, you are never reading a dirty novel again.

Too distracted by the patch of skin, Evie nearly missed the way her boss was assessing her. Not the way her previous employers had, but in a far more analytical way. Like he was searching for inconsistencies.

“How did you fall, Sage?” His words had a smooth sophistication. A lilting accent that only made his voice more alluring.

“My chair turned on me,” Evie said flatly. “And my rear end became very well acquainted with the floor.”

His lips twitched upward, and Evie felt like she’d just found a treasure trove. Twisting to put the rest of the papers down, she felt another sharp ache slide down her back. She winced.

The ghost of a smile slipped from his lips, and Evie cursed her own clumsiness for causing it to disappear.

“Do you need to see the healer?” he asked, placing a hand on one side of her desk, leaning down in a way that put emphasis on his strong forearm beneath the sleeve of his rolled-up shirt.

Hmm…suddenly her mouth was completely dry.