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“I’m thirty-four and certainly not old.I like being single, being alone.”I level her with a pointed stare, hoping she stops the personal inquisition.Then I lift the glass of scotch and drain it, savoring the fiery trail it leaves down my throat.
“No attachments.How very Special Forces of you,” she teases.
“Exactly,” I respond, keeping my voice steady.“Attachments can be lethal in the field.”
“But we’re not in the field, Kingsley,” she so clearly points out.
Is she flirting with me?
God, if she weren’t my boss, I punish her with my itchy palm.
“I maintain a strict boundary between my personal and professional life, Miss Slater.”
“Well, if you want to continue working for me, you’ll have to bend that rule,” she says, popping an olive into her mouth with seductive ease.
“Pardon?”I manage to stutter out.
“Oh, not like that,” she clarifies with a dismissive wave of her hand.“I can’t handle having a robot around me, Kingsley.You’re here because you’re obviously the best.Just loosen up a bit, will you?”
My immediate relief is met with curiosity as to why she immediately dismissed me.“I’ll try,Miss Slater.”
“Viki,” she corrects.
“That’s not going to happen, Miss Slater.”
“Fine.How are you with poker?”she asks, producing a deck of cards from her handbag.
“Do you always keep a deck in there?”I ask, a hint of amusement creeping into my voice.
Her smile broadens.“Is that a smile, Kingsley?”she teases, clearly pleased with herself.
“No.”
She narrows her eyes and smirks, “You didn’t answer my question.”
“I’m a master,” I say confidently.“Now deal.”
6
Victoria
Kingsley seems to have loosened up, his controlling demeanor softening.A part of me is strangely drawn to this aspect of him.Feeling surprisingly at ease, I can’t help but admit I’m having fun.
“Two pairs,” he announces, grinning slyly.“Beat that, Miss Slater.”
I chuckle, knowing what hand I’m holding, and he’s completely oblivious to his impending loss.
He quirks an eyebrow at me, his impatience bubbling to the surface.I lick my bottom lip, suppressing a satisfied giggle.“Well, Kingsley, seems like you’ve been outplayed again.”I place my winning hand on the table.
“Jesus Christ.”He exhales.“A royal flush,” he mutters, disbelieving.“Are you sure you’re not hiding an ace anywhere?”he teases, his gaze lowering to my T-shirt.
“I assure you I’m not,” I reply.“But feel free to frisk me,” I add cheekily.
His eyes darken, and I’m drawn to them.I’ve been so forward around him, so flirty—an unexpected side of me that’s beginning to surface.I haven’t felt this animated around a man since the assault a few months ago.“Cat got your tongue?”I continue to prod him because, well, why not?I’ve lost count of how many scotches I have had, and this seems way more fun.
“Of course not,” he responds.“I’m just curious… how much do you enjoy being a brat?”
“Whoa!”I reply, reaching for my drink.“Finally, he says what’s on his mind.”
