Page 30 of My Grumpy Alpha

“Did you just MacGyver a broken elastic band with paperclips?”

He doesn’t smile, no, he just frowns.

“Who can’t?”

“Normal people?” I offer.

He shrugs his massive shoulders.

“I’m not normal.”

I can’t stop staring at his full mouth and the way his tongue licks out on his full bottom lip. In moments like this, when he isn’t frowning or speaking, I see all of the appeal.

If he doesn't date, has done other things? I’m suddenly very curious.

He cocks his head to the side and holds out his hand, embarrassment washes over when I give him my hand only to have him reach for the black leather portfolio in the other.

I quickly jerk away, mouth dry.

“Everything should be in there, I can read it out loud to you if you want?”

He holds up a finger like he’s trying to concentrate, great now I’m getting silenced. Well, we had one small moment, I guess.

I wait for his eyes to roam over the schedule and turn to look out his windows. The moon isn’t full, but it has an orangish hue, it’s really pretty as the sun starts to set. He’s clearly taking his time in reading, at least he’s not yelling and at least I have a full stomach, and a pretty view.

“This part.” He’s suddenly behind me, making me jump a foot and stumble back against him. The portfolio falls to the ground, papers go flying around our feet and I’m once again leaning back against him, with his hands on my shoulders. I look up to my right and try to get away.

“Don’t. Move,” he rasps, his eyes seem to glow a bright blue, but it’s probably a trick of the light. Except I can feel his arousal against my body. He’s hard as steal. I try moving again.

“I said…” His voice deepens.

“Don’t move.”

A plethora of emotions cross his face from lust to despair, back to anger and irritation that he’s touching me.

His words from the gala come back to haunt me.

Basically calling me ugly without makeup, ugly without his money. Suddenly hurt all over again, I jerk away as hard as I can and stumble forward toward the door.

A hand grips my wrist and flips me around, whipping my hair around my face.

His eyes are blazing blue.

“I told you not to move!”

“You scared me!” I yell back.

“Oh, is that fear I smell?” He inhales deeply and tilts my chin toward his.

“They’re all the same. Every last one. Who sent you? Why are you really here?”

“What?” I search his eyes in confusion.

“To get a job, you paranoid psychopath!”

“You should run.” He chuckles.

“And see what happens to this paranoid psychopath. I won’t ask again, who sent you?”