Page 7 of His Assistant Obsession (His Obsession 3)

Eden

The event was being held at a museum that was currently holding a special exhibit. The jewellery collection of a late and much renowned collector. I wasn’t that interested in jewellery, except as an interesting relic of the past, nevertheless, it was entertaining to go to an event that had so much security. The pieces in the collection were highly sought after, and would fetch a pretty penny on the black market. Because of that, the museum was crawling with security. It was my first time at such an event and the press attention was also intimidating.

“Just relax. You’re with me, and they wouldn’t dare write something unflattering about me,” Khan said. His lips were close enough to my ear to send shivers down my spine.

“Stop whispering to me. The papers will think we’re dating,” I warned him. It didn’t matter to me, but Mr. Eligible bachelor might be annoyed for the whole financial world to think he was dating his assistant.

“I don’t care what the press say. Let them write what they want,” Khan said, and pulled me in to his side for photos. Lights flashed all around us, blinding me. There was only his solid warmth at my side, and his firm hand around my waist to ground me.

“Surely, though, this is just begging to be misconstrued,” I muttered. He turned and looked down at me, pulling my gaze away from the blinding array.

“I told you I don’t care, Eden. So maybe you care, and that’s the problem? Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?”

“No,” I started, and trailed off, unsure where to go with that statement. No, but it’s a lie and I’ll never recover from people thinking that for just one moment, we could have lived in the same world. “It’s tacky,” I went for instead. Khan’s eyes narrowed like they did when he was pissed off. “I’m your assistant. I might know that the position is far from glamourous, but I’m sure there’s some who’ll imagine that I’m clocking more billable hours on my knees under your desk than really working,” I muttered. Khan laughed, a deep chuckle that made me smile.

“You really are one of a kind, Eden. Has anyone ever told you that?” he asked, his mirth still clear on his face. I shook my head. “Good.” He muttered rather cryptically and then tugged my hand. “That’s enough photos for the vultures. Let’s get inside. I believe there is art to see.”

Inside,the museum was as interesting as ever, but tonight; it was infinitely more so. Without the throngs of tourists and other patrons, it felt like a private showing, just for me. Khan trailed behind me as I walked up and down the long halls lined with beautiful fine art, and talked excitedly about it. I felt the stirring inside me of melancholy for all that had been lost when I dropped out of school. Maybe becoming a curator had always been a long shot. Maybe I’d have ended up with a useless, expensive degree and still been a temp. I couldn’t know. It was the path less travelled, and I could only wonder. That night, walking the carefully arranged halls, and looking upon my life’s study, I wished with all my heart that I’d had the chance to follow the rabbit hole of my dreams regardless, and see where they took me.

“So, this is why you brought me? So you could get a personal explanation for each painting?” I accused, though I was far from unhappy. In fact, I was pretty giddy right now.

“Why not? You enjoy telling me about them, and I enjoy listening. You’re good at this. Have you thought of working at a museum?”

“Great idea. Why didn’t I think of it?” I teased him, mostly to cover the hurt that his innocent question made me feel. Being stuck doing temp work when I had a passion I’d been so close to achieving stung all the more. “Unfortunately, there aren’t a lot of paying positions in galleries for college dropouts.”

“Is that all you are? A college dropout? You’re highly educated in the subject, and good at relaying the information. Those are the only skills necessary as far as I’m concerned.”

“Well, you clearly don’t know about the nepotistic world of fine art. Someone important’s kid gets those jobs you don’t need particular qualifications for. You know, for such a rich man, you know very little about some bougie aspects of your world. I’m surprised.”

“I’m not. What about this one?” Khan prompted, when I stood a long time at one painting.

“What about it?” I asked, turning to see him standing just behind me. His hands were in his pockets, and he was looking at the art with a critical gaze. “Don’t you already know? You can’t fool me. I’ve been in your office. I know you love art,” I told him. “Don’t deny it.” I didn’t know why it was so easy to speak to Khan Aslan tonight. It was like being here, away from the office, wearing the most beautiful gown I’d ever seen. I was a different person. We were different people. I’m sure I was the only one that felt like that, however.

“You’ve got me. I love beautiful things,” Khan said, rocking back on his heels when I turned around.

“You mean you’re accustomed to the finer things in life? I can tell.”

“While I hate to disagree with you, Eden…”

“Well, we both know that isn’t true.”

“I didn’t grow up with a silver spoon in my mouth. The places where I’ve slept would haunt your nightmares, I know because they haunt mine. I love beautiful things because for a long time, there was no beauty in my world.”

I turned to the enigmatic man beside me, surprised by his words.

“Really? I’d never have guessed,” I murmured.

“I try to keep it that way. When people pull themselves up from the gutter, they don’t tend to like everyone to know where they came from. It’s too personal,” he said. I mused over that admission for a second.

“Too personal, and yet, you’re telling me?” I asked, my heart suddenly spiking into a higher beat, my palms dampening with nerves. Fuck, what was wrong with me? This man was a multi-millionaire, if not a billionaire, and I was his employee, and I was having a hot flash at his shared intimacy. Not only was he from a different world than me, but he drove me crazy half the time. I’d heard that adage as much as the next person, that the line between love and hate was a fine one. I’d always dismissed it before as being overly dramatic, wishful thinking, and yet, for the first time in my life, I’d met a man I could imagine it being true for. Whatever they were, in our brief acquaintance, I had developed strong feelings for Khan Aslan, one way or another. Hate or love. Who knew?

“Despite knowing little about the business side, I know the owners of several galleries. You are more than qualified to work in them. Once your temp position ends, I can put you in touch with them. Let that nepotism work for you, for a change,” he said.

“Are you serious? That would be life-changing for me,” I mumbled, seriously taken aback. Khan nodded slowly.

“You wouldn’t object out of some sort of misguided sense of guilt or morals?” he wondered. I considered it for a moment and then shook my head.

“Nope. I’m fine with it. I can’t control you, and we don’t owe each other anything. It’s your world, after all. I just live in it,” I finished with a flourish. It was true. In Khan Aslan’s world, putting in a good word for a random temp he once employed wasn’t a big deal, and yet, to me, it would be everything. “Though I don’t know how I could thank you for it,” I tacked on.

“I’m sure I could think of more than one way,” Khan said quietly. I was looking at the painting before us, but something in his tone made me turn and meet his eyes. They weren’t just looking at me, they were staring. Burrowing under my skin and seeing what made me tick. Under the layers of humor and deflection I used as a shield to keep people away. I couldn’t shake the feeling that this man saw me, like no one else ever had. I couldn’t hide from him, and strangely, I didn’t want to.

“I’m sure you didn’t mean that to sound so dirty,” I teased him.

“Don’t be,” Khan muttered, just as I realised Khan wasn’t watching me as closely anymore, thankfully. Instead, he was frowning over my shoulder at several of the security guards, who were talking in the distance, lingering around the jewellery exhibit room.

“What’s up?” I asked him, as a soft chime sounded to let us all know that it was time to move into the exhibit. He shook his head, shrugging off my question, even as his dark eyes remained trained to the men standing in the doorway, while he pulled his phone from his pocket.

“Nothing, don’t worry. I just have to make a call. You go through, I’ll join you in a minute,” he said. I nodded, a little disappointed that our quiet moment was over, but seeing people stream into the exhibit made me head in that direction. The special exhibit was invitation only tonight, and some of the cases would actually be opened. The doors had finally been unsealed by the remote security company. I guessed tonight I would be around the most pricey jewels I’d ever seen. It wasn’t as thrilling to me as the paintings I passed by on the way, my heels striking the tile ground in a sharp rhythm, but it was interesting enough, nonetheless. Liar. Being around Khan is the interesting part. I silenced the traitorous voice in my head. As I neared the exhibit, I spied a sign to the side for the ladies’ bathrooms. I had time for a quick break.

I tookmy time washing my hands in the bathroom, staring at my reflection in the mirror. I’d never looked nicer than I did tonight. The lavender cocktail dress was simply stunning. It was the nicest thing I’d ever own, no doubt, and I had Khan Aslan to thank for it. I didn’t get the man. He was focused, controlled, ambitious, intimidatingly so, and yet, he was also unexpectedly warm, insightful, and thoughtful when you didn’t expect it. He was working his way into my wary heart like a splinter, and I worried that after my temp position was up, I’d never get him out. Not that he had any idea that I was falling for his charms. Charms he wasn’t even attempting to use on me. If this was how intrigued I felt by him, when he wasn’t trying to be nice in the slightest, I couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to be on the receiving end of his proper attentions. I dried my hands, my belly simmering with excitement at the thought of spending the rest of the evening together, and left the bathroom. My heels struck the floor again as I made my way down the hall toward the exhibit, this time louder than ever.

I found my attention snagging on how oddly loud my high heels sounded when I realised what it was that was making me wary.

It was quiet.

Silent as a grave, actually. The music from earlier had gone, and so had the general hubbub of many people in one place. I frowned, approaching the hall and stopped just inside the doorway. I couldn’t believe what I saw.

The many illustrious guests, all dressed up in their designer clothes and flashy accessories, were lying facedown on the floor. The security team that had been intensely watching the event all night were stalking up and down the floor. They had guns. My brain struggled to keep up with what I was seeing.

Just as I felt the reality of the surreal situation descend on me, a hard hand came around my mouth, and a steel like arm banded around my waist, and I was being born backwards. I struggled as I was dragged away from the open door, pure fear coursing through my veins. I struggled, scratching and biting at the hand over my mouth, as I was pulled down a short, dark hall, and pushed into a dark storage room. As soon as I was released, I reached out and slapped at my attacker hard, before a firm hand closed around my wrist and tugged me into a tall, build body. A familiar scent washed over me, relaxing something primal deep inside me.

“Eden, it’s alright, it’s me,” Khan said in a near murmur, his mouth pressed just over my ear. I sagged against his chest. Khan was here. I wasn’t alone. He was with me.

“What’s happening?”

“That security team isn’t proper security. They’re a bunch of thugs who have set this whole thing up to steal millions in jewels.” His voice was hard and clinical. I realised I was still clutching his chest, and his hand was softly stroking my hair, like I was a frighted animal prone to bolting. I pushed myself back a little. The smell of my sexy boss this close was messing with my head.

“So, they’re going to take the jewels and go?” I offered hopefully.

“If nothing goes wrong.” Khan sounded cynical. I swallowed down another knot of anxiety in my throat. He must have sensed my worry, as a hand cupped my cheek, and his thumb eased over my cheekbone. “Don’t worry, I won’t let anyone hurt you. I suspected something strange when I saw them earlier, and already called some of my team to look into it. They will alert the authorities. They are probably surrounding the building as we speak,” he said. I shivered, half from fear, and half from the touch of his slightly calloused thumb against my skin.

“Are we going to hide in here?”

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