Page 24 of Wicked Dares
The same man I left sleeping in silk sheets this morning, in his fortress in the Hamptons.
He’s sitting at the opposite end of the table, directly in my line of sight. And that sinful smile—the one he wore as he dared me out of my dignity—is still on his face.
I never thought I’d see him again. I definitely didn’t think I’d see him looking even more devastatingly handsome in a tailored suit.
And here? Right here in a glass-walled office on the forty-second floor of Vale Global.
What is he doing here?
Someone clears their throat; I’m not sure who. The sound yanks me back to the present disaster.
I dropped the coffee. It’s my first day here, and I look like a complete klutz.
This was supposed to be my fresh start.
Not whatever this is.
Shit.
“I’m so sorry,” I blurt out, dropping to my knees. My hands fumble for the mugs— one cracked, three went rolling, and the fifth is somehow still standing upright like it’s mocking me. Coffee soaks into the carpet, coffee soaks into my tights, and every pair of eyes in this room is on me. Especiallyhis.
“I’m so sorry,” I say again. “I’ll get a cloth. I’ll?—”
“Don’t worry about it.” The voice that answers is older, and warmer than I expect.
I glance up and meet the eyes of the man at the head of the table. He looks like he could be Mr. Wicked’s…father?
Same eye color, bone structure, and olive-toned skin.
Oh my God.
Come to think of it, the guys sitting around the table all look alike.
Brothers maybe.
Beautiful, intimidating brothers with expensive suits and the kind of confidence money can’t buy unless you’re born into it.
Like the Vales, Piper?
Shit, shit, shit. The realization nearly knocks the air from my lungs.
Jesus, what kind of wrong turn did I make?
“Are you alright?” the older man asks. If I’m right, he must be Jeremiah Vale.
“Yes. I’m fine. Thank you. I apologize again. I’ll clean this up.” I scramble to my feet.
“Not to worry. I’ll get the cleaners to sort it out.”
“Thanks, I’ll bring fresh coffees, then, right away.”
Before he can answer, I abandon the mess because staying here one second longer might actually kill me.
I head back to the door, my head bowed like some servant in a period drama. I don’t look back. I can feel Mr. Wicked’s eyes on me, though. Like he’s enjoying this far more than he should.
Of all the crazy things that could happen to me today, I never thought this could be one of them. I left his home hours ago, went back to my apartment, and got ready for work.
How was I to know he’d be at my new job, and that he could possibly be a Vale?
