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But where my brothers’ achievements are discussed and glorified, all successful professionals in their own rights, my job is treated as a hobby, something to be frowned upon and indulged.
Oliver Thornton had said I had no need to tarnish my physical appearance to be respected.
He had clearly never walked a day in my shoes.
I set my glasses down before turning off the light.
* * *
“What is going on outside?” Oliver enters my office, brandishing a piece of paper in his hand. “Why are decorations being—”
He freezes when he spots me, and I tense.
He couldn’t have walked in at a worse moment.
I’m in the process of zipping up the black dress Elise had insisted I wear instead of my normal office wear.
“Company morale for the rest who’re still here,” she had said cheerfully, yet there was a darkness in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. I wondered if it was because of her troubled love life or because she had lost friends to this restructuring.
Ultimately, she had managed to talk me into wearing a simple black dress.
“Elegant,” she’d said with a flair, her eyes shining. “And classy.”
Oliver just stares, his expression odd, and I bristle.
“What?”
He shakes his head, as if clearing the cobwebs, and I try to yank up the zipper. Unfortunately, my hands won’t reach that far back.
“Need a hand?” he asks.
When I hesitate, he takes that as a yes.
I can feel his warm breath against my bare skin as he slowly slides the errant zipper up, his fingers lightly scraping over my back, making me shiver against my will. My fingertips graze my desk, and there is something darkly intimate about this moment. I wish there weren’t.
I know he’s done, but he doesn’t step back, his breath burning the nape of my neck, my nipples tightening as he doesn’t entirely let go of me.
I should thank him. Should send him on his way.
I should act normal as if this an everyday scenario—the acting CEO just walks into the office and zips up the head of HR.
We both stay still, and my eyes flutter shut as I feel his hand ghosting over my waist as he slowly turns me around. Those deep blue eyes are burning with desire that scorches wherever it lands, and I feel my lower muscles tense in yearning.
His gaze roves over my body in a deliberately provocative way, making me tremble.
I have never been the sole focus of a man’s raw desire like this, as if he’s starving and he can’t wait to sink his teeth into me.
His hands settle on my waist, and I can’t find my voice to tell him to leave.
The wild attraction that has been growing since I laid eyes on this grumpy English man is reaching its peak, and I don’t know what to do.
Maybe it’s the universe giving me a break, I think bleakly as the sound of something crushing and someone cursing just outside my office breaks the spell that has woven around us.
Realization swims into Oliver’s eyes, and he immediately takes a step back.
“The party is tonight,” he says, his husky voice making me swallow. “I forgot.”
I don’t ask him if he’ll be there.
