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Time stops as her cheeks fill with color.

I can feel her entire family watching us, and despite my misgivings about the impulsive tendencies of my young assistant, I will not embarrass her further.

So I do my best impression of one of the haughty dukes she loves to read about so much, and give them all a casual, cooly confident look, shrugging like it’s no big deal that they seem to know she’s had a crush on one man while—or just before?—dating another man.

Both of whom are me, I’m gathering.

“That’s old news,” I say dismissively to them, while giving Sienna a look that saysasshole boss? Really?

“Definitely didn’t want to think abouthimthis holiday,” she snaps.Go away, her glare demands.

My eyes harden, because no fucking way am I taking bossy demands from the spoiled princess who has gotten us into this mess. Not after the day I’ve had. “I know you don’t like to think about him anymore.”

But I’m not going anywhere, I wordlessly add.

Her father chortles. “Then I shouldn’t have brought him up. Sorry about that. Well, come in, son.”

“No, seriously, wait,” Sienna says at the same time I hold out my hand and say, “Thank you, sir.”

If looks could kill, I’d be dead, because right now Sienna is remembering the time she told me that her father loves a well-placedsir.

* * *

Full credit to Sienna, she holds herself together until she closes her bedroom door behind me—quietly.

Thenshe loses her shit.

“What are you doing here?” she hisses, slapping me on the chest.

I catch her wrist, enjoying the way her breath hitches and her eyes go wide. “Don’t hit me again.”

“Don’t— Are you kidding me? You are supposed to be in Oregon! Not here, acting like…”

I smirk at her. “Like I’m your boyfriend? Because I’m pretty sure you brought that on yourself. Where did that come from?”

“I couldn’t exactly introduce you as my boss.”

“Your asshole boss.”

She huffs in frustration. “Because I told them I quit my job! And they all told me I should have done it months ago, because you’re a demanding workaholic who doesn’t appreciate me nearly enough.”

She’s glaring at me like I’m the devil, which isn’t a surprise based on what she’s just said and the anger she poured into the letter I found waiting for me early this morning.

None of that dampens my urge to lower my mouth and kiss her. It’s nearly overwhelming.

She has no fucking idea just how much I appreciate her. “Clearly, we have a lot to discuss.”

“We don’t—” She growls and wrenches her wrist out of my grip, only to push against me again. As if that would deter me, when this is the closest we’ve ever been and her hands on my body—and mine on hers—is all I’ve ever wanted.

I enjoy grabbing her arm again and pinning it against the wall this time. In fact, I enjoy it far too much. If I’m not careful, any second she’ll feel just much my cock relishes her being my little prisoner. “If you slap me again, I will take you over my knee to correct your behavior. I have half a mind to do it anyway, as punishment for your horrible little tantrum of a note.”

“You mean my resignation letter?” She sounds indignant. Good. That makes two of us.

I lean in close, closer than we’ve ever been in the two years she’s worked for me, and every tiny detail sears itself in my brain. Her sweet scent, her angry gaze, her soft mouth. The glorious way her body sways against mine.

“You are not allowed to quit in a Dear John letter.” I say this carefully. Controlled. She’s not allowed to resign at all, but one thing at a time. “And you don’t really want to, so I think it’s more accurate to say that you were looking to get my attention with a stunt.”

I give her half a beat to absorb that. Another chance to breathe in her lovely scent.

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