Page 6 of Resist


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I swallow nervously as the voice becomes louder, trying desperately to ignore the pang of nausea that fills my stomach. I look up as he enters the room, his phone to his ear, not even acknowledging my presence. Instead he wanders over to the bar and pours himself a drink. I’m not deterred, though. I take the moment to study him in all his beautiful, sexy glory. I can just tell he knows how to please a woman, and all thoughts of his potentially murderous past have taken a backseat. I blush, embarrassed by the thoughts rushing through my head because I’m not that kind of girl. I shift in my seat, trying to regain my composure.

His hair, short and dark, has a slight wave to it. In the natural light it looks almost black, but as he nears me I can see it’s more of a golden brown. The white shirt he wears is rolled up to his elbows, and I can just make out the end of a tattoo that wraps around his right forearm. His suit pants sit low on his hips, showcasing his athletic frame. With a body like that he must work out.

He is looking right at me. I realize I’m staring and look away, my cheeks heating. His eyes narrow as he mumbles into the phone something about calling them back. He slides the phone into his pocket and strides over to me, his fingers rubbing the soft stubble lining his jaw.

“Charlotte Lucas, I presume?”

He speaks in a low, husky tone as he stands in front of me, his gaze slowly moving over my body. I stiffen, hoping I made the right choice with my knee-length black skirt and light blue shirt. I can’t help feeling overdressed, especially considering what I’m applying for. I feel like I should be wearing a G-string and some hooker boots.

“I’m Jaxon Murphy.”

“Yes, I know. Lovely to meet you.” I squawk the words out. Any hope of sounding confident and in control evaporated the moment I laid eyes on him.

I have no business being here. If my feet didn’t feel like they were bolted to the floor, I’d be running for the door.

“Sorry about that, but unfortunately in my line of work interruptions are plentiful. Come into my office.” He waits as I stand up and ushers me through to his office, his hand resting on the curve of my lower back. I can barely concentrate with him touching me.

His office is a large room just off the dining area. He seems professional and very business oriented, which isn’t surprising, considering he runs a company. He walks around the large oak desk and sits down, motioning for me to do the same. I place my résumé on the desk and sit too, my heart pounding in my chest. Exactly what I am being interviewed for, I still have no idea. I wait impatiently as he reads through my résumé, every now and then glancing up to study me with those sexy, dark, dangerous eyes, causing my heart to leap into my throat.

“Would you like a drink?” he asks. “A tea or coffee, perhaps?”

“A tea would be nice,” I reply hoarsely, clearing my throat. “Black, please.”

He nods and presses the intercom button, ordering my tea and a coffee for himself.

“So, Ms. Lucas. Tell me a little about yourself,” he says as he adjusts his position, crossing one leg casually in his lap. He looks so damn relaxed. And sexy. Did I mention sexy? Because fuck, this guy defines the word sexy. He watches me intently as he waits for my answer.

“I’m newly out of college and looking for work. I thought this job sounded interesting,” I reply. My mouth feels like rubber and I’m sure he can tell how nervous I am. I wonder if he likes that. He strikes me as the kind of guy who likes to see the effect he has on women.

“Well, you’re certainly the type of woman I am looking for, aesthetically speaking,” he muses, rubbing his jaw.

I nearly laugh. Well, if nothing else, at least I pass the appearance test. We’re interrupted by a knock on the door. An older woman walks in, carrying two cups. She sets one down in front of me and the other in front of him. She offers him a kind smile; I get nothing but cold, steely eyes. I’m momentarily taken aback by her reception.

“Thank you, Marina,” he says.

She nods and retreats out of the room, but not before shooting me another glance.

“So tell me,” he continues, focusing his attention back on me, “why apply for this role? What do you think you can offer me that the other three hundred and thirty applicants can’t?”

I nearly choke on my tea. Three hundred and thirty women applied for this job? There are that many desperate women in Southern California? I don’t even know how to answer that question, or what he wants to hear.

“I spent the last four years obtaining my degree, and that has gotten me nowhere. If I’m being completely honest, at this point I’ll take anything. I have no idea what it is that you want, but I’m open to anything if it’s going to get me somewhere.” I regret the last sentence the second it leaves my mouth, because I know it’s going to come back to bite me.

He raises his eyebrows, a shadow of a smile playing on his lips as those eyes invade me. “And what was this degree that took up so much of your life?”

“Business,” I reply quickly. I have no intention of letting him know about my journalism degree. “But I’m not sure where I stand with that now, or if I want to attempt to further my education. So for right now, this job is perfect for me.”

“Very interesting answer.” He pauses and runs over my résumé again, his shoe tapping softly against the hardwood floor. “But I do wonder how you can say that when you have very little idea of what I’m looking for.”

Good point. Could I look any more desperate? I’m practically throwing myself at him without any idea of where I’m going to land.

“How about I run through what I’m looking for, and then you can tell me whether or not you think you fit my needs?” he suggests with a faint smile. “But first, I’m curious…What are you expecting from this role?”

“I…” Words evade me. I take a deep breath and try again. “From reading your advertisement, I think you’re looking to fulfill a specific desire, but you don’t want to mess around with dating.”

“I don’t date.” He smirks, his deep brown eyes laughing at me. “Ever. Please, go on.”

“You want a no-strings arrangement where you don’t have to deal with the bullshit that usually goes with a normal relationship.” I pause, biting my lip. Am I even on the right track? “So you pay for what you want.”

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