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He indicated the stylish briefcase in the footwell next to my feet. ‘The briefcase is yours—so is the tablet inside it. I’ve loaded three marketing reports on it. I want your thoughts on them by midday.’
I grabbed the case, hung on to it as if it would dilute his effect on me.
It didn’t even come close.
Our previous interactions had given me a taster of Neo’s power, but my introduction to his corporate life provided a mind-bending main course of the sheer formidable force he wielded. For example, the middle-aged woman I’d encountered in his office months ago was one of six assistants poised to answer his every demand.
And his first demand was to have her summon his top marketing executives into his office, where I was introduced as his wife and personal intern—a statement that garnered speculation and brought a warm flush to my face.
But it was his second demand—that I be set up in one corner of his vast office—that drew a protest from me. ‘Aren’t you worried about whispers of nepotism?’
One eyebrow lifted. ‘Not even a little bit,’ he tossed away. At my frown he added, ‘I don’t intend to make this an easy ride for you, Sadie. But by all means, if you’re worried about it, then prove them wrong.’
In the three dizzying weeks that followed it was impossible not to meet that challenge, to smash it to pieces. Because, while Neo was maddeningly rabid in ensuring I was provided with mouth-watering meals at precise intervals during the day, that my prenatal vitamins were taken like clockwork and my every comfort was catered for, business-wise he was a slave-driver—often lounging back in his thronelike seat while firing questions at me from across the room. He tossed every menial marketing task at me, barely letting me catch my breath before the next project landed on my desk.
And when he wasn’t doing that, his gaze rested on me with molten, unapologetic interest.
It was on one such occasion, when I was feeling mellowed from a client’s high praise of a marketing analysis I’d put together, that I caught his gaze on me as I rose from my desk.
‘What are you thinking?’ I asked, before I could curb my curiosity.
The question seemed to startle him. Then his long lashes swept over me. ‘White.’
‘Pardon me?’
‘White suits you. You should wear only that from now on.’
An anticipatory shiver fired through me, because he’d just tossed one of his imperious observations at me. And, oh, how I’d relish batting it away.
‘Is this where you say “Jump” and hope I’ll say, “Yes, sir...how high do you wish, sir?”’
For some absurd reason his lips twitched with amusement. ‘I’d say yes, but we both know you’d never do anything that accommodating. Not without something in return, at least.’
A pang of hurt caught me unawares.
His gaze sharpened on my face, then he grew irritated. ‘That was meant to be a compliment, Sadie, not a prelude to a fight. You look beautiful in white.’
‘Is that why my wardrobe is suddenly full of white stuff?’ The predominantly white outfits had appeared suddenly, with no explanation offered.
He shrugged. ‘I was told you didn’t seem interested in the whole clothes-shopping process back in London. I made the choice for you. If I was wildly inaccurate, then feel free to amend it.’
Mutiny rose and died almost as soon as my fingers drifted over the soft white cotton dress I’d picked for the office today. The boat-necked A-line design draped over my body without clinging, cleverly disguising the small swell of my belly. And, like this dress, every item in my new wardrobe was a perfect fit.
‘It’s okay, I suppose.’
He inclined his head in an imperious nod, but not before I caught a look of...relief?
Before I could be sure, he was rising, messing with my breathing as he sauntered around to perch on the edge of his desk.
‘Come here, Sadie,
’ he commanded, his voice gravel rough.
‘Why?’
His eyes shadowed. ‘Because it’s time to go over the final details before our meeting,’ he said easily.
I wasn’t fooled. The fierce gleam in his eye announced other intentions.
