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"You'd never have picked this poor kitty up if you weren't drunk. You would still feel bad, I'm sure, but you would've gotten one of your bodyguards to take care of it."
And she was right, Ilyas realized broodingly.Thatwas exactly what he would've done if he had been in the right frame of mind, but he hadn't done so...because he was drunk as fuck.
Get the hell out of here, Ilyas Al-Masri.
That was what he should do and would've done if he wasn't drunk, but Ilyas heard himself say something else instead.
"I'll be spending the night here."
And as expected, the words had his secretary squawking like a little chick.
"What? Why?"
Ilyas glanced down at his pants.Boner gone. Good.He turned back to face his secretary, who had her lips parted, also like a little chick. "What do you mean 'why'? We still have one spare bedroom here, don't we?"
"Yes, but—-"
"So that's final. I'm staying here whileyouand that kitten will have to leave."
"What?"
"Just use the company card to book yourself a suite," he instructed. "And if I find out you got yourself a measly standard, I'll deduct twice the fucking amount from your wages."
Ember muttered under her breath, and Ilyas scowled. "What the fuck did you just say?"
"I said you're an awesome...soul."
Ilyas stared at her unsmilingly. "No. It wasn't that."
"It was."
"I think you called me a 'bosshole'."
Ember let out a gasp that sounded unconvincing even to his drunk ears. "I would never call you that."
"Yes, you would, damn you."
But Ember no longer seemed to hear him. "Oh my gosh, I almost forgot all about you, poor little kitty." She held the tiny creature up for Ilyas to see. "Look, Your Highness. Doesn't it break your heart to see him shivering?"
"No."
"I know, right?" Ember hugged the kitten to her chest. "Poor little kitty."
"Goddammit, Ember, don't you fucking think I don't know what you're doing.
"Will you excuse me, Your Highness?"
"You're not just excused," Ilyas growled, "but I also want you and that thing out of here.Now."
"I promise I'll be quick. I just need to take care of this little one first."
Ilyas glared at her. "Goddammit, Ember."
But his secretary was already zipping around the office suite like a tiny redheaded cyclone, and in just ten minutes, she had managed to whip up an emergency kitten formula with ingredients from the pantry.
Ilyas warily approached Ember when she started feeding the kitten on the kitchen island. "Why don't you just give it milk?"
Ember smiled ruefully at him. "That only works in cartoons."
