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"Are you okay?" She looks at me strangely.
"What she means is, our contrasting styles are a good foil. Together, we make a good team." He nods in my direction, then allows his lip to curl in what I assume is supposed to be a smile. It’s more of a grimace, but hey, I’ll take it. I made the ogre smile again. That’s got to count for something, eh?
"Don’t we?" He keeps his lips turned up, as if his muscles are frozen.
"Do we?" I ask with a wide, innocent gaze.Y-e-p, two can play this game.
His gaze narrows. For a second, his eyes flash. I see those golden sparks in their depths, the ones I convinced myself I had imagined. Apparently, not. Douchehole here, really is hiding some seriously intense emotions under that grouchy mask of his.
"Perhaps I need to remind you of your duties, Ms. Easton?" he says in a hard voice.
I toss my hair back from my face. "Perhaps I need to remind you that my responsibilities are only that of your employee and nothing more, Mr. Warren."
"O-k-a-y." Abby steps back. "You two make no sense to me. But as long as you are getting along, who am I to intervene?" She moves forward and hugs me. "I really am so happy you decided to work with Knight. I can’t think of anyone better than you to find him a wife. I trust your judgement, you know."
But I don’t.Especially not when I’m unsure of what to make of my attraction to her brother. Not to mention how I’m beginning to hate this effect he has on me. Not that I’m going to tell her that. Instead, I nod and smile, because that’s what I’m best at, after all. I must put on a good show, for she smiles back. Her features relax. Clearly, she thinks everything is well in-hand. With a final wave at my nemesis over her shoulder, she walks out.
The door snicks shut. Silence descends. I glance across the desk to where Knight is watching me with intent. His green eyes have a hard edge to them. It’s as if he’s made up his mind. He reaches over, taps what must be a button on the side of his desk, and I hear an audible click. I stiffen and glance over my shoulder at the door, then back at him.
He nods. "It’s locked. Neither of us is leaving until we thrash this out."
My heart jumps into my chest. My pulse rate skyrockets. I take a step back, my knees hit my chair, and I sit down.
"Good girl."
Instantly, the flush blooms across my skin. I will not be moved by his praise. Or by his dirty talking.I will not.I’m here to do a job, and only because he pays my salary, and for my mother to stay in the home she loves. So what, if his style of working is unconventional and he steps over the line on occasion—I wince. Yeah, typical of a situation where the boss takes advantage of his employee—only, I don’t not want him to do so. Only, I enjoy it too much when he does. Only, he’s going to get married soon, and then what? I’ll be the sidepiece? Nope, no way. I have more pride than that. I need to preserve that part of me I’ve never shared with anyone. I need to hold myself in check around him. I need to… get through this list and get the hell out of here.
I grab my pen and begin to write. My fingers fly over the paper, and the words appear. I’m conscious of him tracking my movements, but I don’t stop until I’ve filled the page. Then, I push it over to him.
He reads it, then scowls. "What’s this?"
20
Knight
"Your list of qualities you’re looking for in a wife?" she retorts.
I take my time reading through the list.
Must be a virgin.
Must be ready to have sex anytime.
Must be meek.
Must be organized and able to manage the household.
Has no original thoughts of her own.
Must be good-looking—ideally, model-thin?
Must be ready to spawn right away.
Must make sure the world revolves around me.
Has no personality of her own.
Must be dumb enough to marry me.
