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“Cappuccino again?” I mutter.
Gavan’s eyes flash, cold and metallic. My face heats.
“Would you like a cappuccino,Sir?” I mumble.
He smiles thinly.
“Good girl.”
I shiver.
Fuck you, body.
When I’m done fumbling my way through making his goddamn coffee, feeling his eyes on every inch of my backside while I’m doing it, he sips it slowly while I stand there like an idiot. When he drops his gaze back to the laptop in front of him, I frown.
“Is…there something else I should be doing?”
His eyes raise, his brow arching expectantly.
Goddammit.
“Is there something else I should be doing,Sir?”
Gavan smiles savagely. “The shelves over there haven’t been dusted in far too long.”
I stare at him.
“There’s a duster in the closet of the private bathroom.” He turns and nods with his chin at the door next to the coffee station alcove. When I glance down uncertainly at my dress pooled on the ground, he smirks and shakes his head. “Current dress code applies.”
Asshole.
Gavan’s office ensuite is, of course, ridiculously gorgeous. I mean, I’ve grown up with plenty of wealth and privilege. And I’ve seen even more of it now that the Drakos family are my in-laws. But holy fucking hell. There’s an air and a gleam to Gavan’s—well,everything—that makes me feel like I’m dealing with a monarch or something.
Back in the office holding what might actually be the fanciest feather duster ever created by humankind, I teeter over to the shelves on my heels.
“Don’t forget the middle section, right over there.”
I don’t even need to see where those lethal eyes are aimed to know he’s talking about the now-empty glass case.
He’s rubbing my face in my crime, and we both know it.
I work my way left to right across the first two levels of shelves before my brows knit, my eyes rising to the two shelves that are too high for me to reach.
“Use this.”
I gasp, jumping at the sound of his voice right behind me. When I whirl, he’s looming right there, effortlessly holding one of the two guest chairs usually situated in front of his desk in one hand. He sets it down and nods at it.
“Stand on that.”
In heels. Yeah, sure. No problem.
Gavan stands right where he is, making zero offers of help as I awkwardly step up onto the chair. I wobble, then catch myself.
“Don’t fall,” he mutters dryly.
My mouth thins as I start to dust. When I glance down, I flush when I realize he’s still standing there—likerightthere behind me, with my ass now at his eye level. My skin tingles as I start dusting again, feeling his heated gaze on me while my legs shake.
“Perhaps you should wear something more office-appropriate, Eilish. I’m not sure heels and lingerie is either suitable or helpful for something like this.”
