Page 29 of My Sinful Boss
I was too busy falling in love. Being proposed to.
What were the odds I’d submit a blind resume to a hedge fund and get hired?
Almost zero. But that doesn’t matter because the listing was made for me. The contract he had me sign—the one that bound me to his body and his office and his bed whenever he wanted—thatwas made for me too.
It was all made for me.
I didn’t luck out with this job. I wassought out.
My legs force me to my feet. My chair rolls back and slams against the glass of Dominic’s office. A few heads turn to look at me, but I don’t see them. I’m already walking to the elevator, my massive ring catching the lights with every step.
I find him coming out of a meeting. He sees my face and stops dead in his tracks. The men filing out behind him glance at us but keep moving. Dominic doesn’t even acknowledge them. His eyes are locked on mine, and I watch his expression shiftfrom one of confidence and completion to anxiety. And that’s something Dominic rarely shows.
He knows.
“Your office,” I say, my voice sharp. “Now.”
He follows me without a word. I feel him beside me—the heat from his body, the overwhelming size of him, the cologne that still fills my nose and makes my heart ache.
I have to grip my own wrist to keep myself from reaching for his hand. It’s a reflex my body has learned, and just having him this close is making it kick in.
We step into his office, and I wait for the glass to go dark.
Normally, I’d be excited for what comes next. If this was one of those times. But it’s not. This time, things are tense as I stand on one side of his desk and he stands on the other.
I take a deep breath and force the confrontation from my lips.
“There was no Executive Assistant position.”
He stands stoic and shakes his head. “No.”
“Marcus ran my finances, my credit, my rent. All before you even saw my face.”
“BeforeIsaw your photo but after you sent your resume in.”
My head’s starting to spin. “And the job—the actual job? It was created for me?”
He pauses, swallows, then nods. “Yes.”
“Were there any other candidates?”
“No. I didn’t need an assistant, Hazel. But when I saw you, I knew I needed you…”
I’m starting to shake now. Not because I’m afraid but because of the effort of staying still while every instinct I have makes me want to run or hit him.
Both impulses are equally strong.
“You were trying to tell me this last night, weren’t you?” I ask, my voice thin and strained.
“Yes.” He nods, hands at his sides. His knuckles are white, balled up like a fighter’s. “I should have admitted everything to you. I wanted to, but…I told you I love you instead because…because I’m a coward.”
I shake my head immediately. “No, you’re not a coward, Dominic. You’re a liar.”
He doesn’t even try to defend himself. He just stands there, six-foot-three, slabs upon slabs of muscle, and takes it.
“I thought I found you,” I whimper. “I thought that for once in my life, something good happened to me. The universe looked at Hazel Briggs and said, ‘Okay, fine. Give her something good.’”
Dominic twists his lips as he looks at me, his eyes blazing like he wants to speak.
