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For some reason, I creep further into the office. I take one look at the chaotic schedule that his new temp has organized for him and my eyebrows hit my hairline.
“You have two different meetings scheduled for the same time tomorrow morning,” I point out.
“My dimwitted new assistant apparently thinks I can be in two places at once.”
I bite down on my lips to keep from smiling. “You know, Idohave secretarial experience. I can help you—”
“I’d rather hire a circus clown.”
I narrow my eyes. “Sounds like you already did.”
For a moment, I think I’m gonna get a smile. But that’s apparently too much to ask for. Instead, his mouth hardens into a flat line.
It still looks extremely kissable, though.
The problem—well, one of the problems—with all this doom and gloom and anger is that Ruslan doesn’tlookany different. He’s still as gorgeous as he’s always been.
Which is not to say I’m still not pissed off about our last interaction. It still haunts me at night; it rings in my ears during the little silences that pepper every day. Even that much feels like a betrayal to myself. Being attracted to a man who treats me like shit?Have some self-respect, girl.And yet, my body doesn’t seem very interested in being loyal when it comes to Ruslan.
“Seriously, just give me an hour here and—”
“I don’t need or want your help, Ms. Carson.”
I glare at him. “Fine. I’ll leave you to your messed-up schedule and your idiot assistant. I just have one question.”
“Oh, so there’s a question? I thought you’d just come in here to annoy the hell out of me.”
I phone in the fake laugh. “So funny. Truly hilarious. Take that show on the road; you’d slay.”
“I don’t have all day, Emma.”
It’s amazing how he can give me two such opposing reactions. On the one hand, there’s frustration and anger. On the other hand, there’s desire and need. If only I could turn off my heart—and my vagina—and simply leave him in the rearview mirror…
Life would be so much easier.
“I want to see Phoebe.”
“So FaceTime her.”
“I know this is a foreign concept to you, but I need human contact. Some in-person, face-to-face, I-can-see-her-and-she-can-see-me contact. So I thought I’d invite her over here one day. I just wanted to run it—”
“I don’t want anyone coming in or out of the estate unless they’ve been vetted first.”
“So vet her.”
“The process takes two months.”
I have no idea if that’s true or if he’s just being an ass but I decide to put on my problem-solver hat and give him another option. “Fine. Then can I get my car keys back? I’ll go meet her outside the estate.”
That suggestion at least gets me a little eye contact. I’ve forgotten how obnoxiously beautiful those amber eyes are.
Who am I kidding? Of course I haven’t forgotten.
“No. Out of the question.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Did you not hear a word I just said? It’s not safe out there. You really think I’m gonna send you out into the world where you’re vulnerable?”
