Page 9 of My Sinful Boss
Suddenly, I feel like the world’s biggest idiot. “Um, no. I didn’t read it.”
The corner of his lip twists up as he enlarges a section—two specific clauses that have been highlighted in yellow. I lean forward, and as I read them, the words seem to physically transform the structures of my brain.
Relief services…
Non-termination…
I read them again, thinking I might be hallucinating. But the words don’t change. Not even after reading them a third time.
My lips have gone dry. My hands start to tremble, so I stuff them between my knees and clamp tight.
I should probably run. Scream. Call the police, a lawyer, Cassi,anyone.
But instead, I just look up at Dominic.Reallylook at him for the first time since I stepped into his office.
He’s brutally handsome. His good looks are sharp but rugged, not like a fashion model or Hollywood star. His eyes are dark and carry the weight of power behind them.
I feel small before him, but in a good way. A way that has me buzzing inside.
He’s not smug or smirking. He’s not leaning back with the cocky confidence of a man who’s just cornered his prey.
In fact, like me, he’s barely breathing. His knuckles are white around the edge of his desk, and a vein is pulsing in his neck. Hisjaw is clenched so tightly I can see the muscles moving beneath his skin.
And his eyes are locked on me with something that doesn’t register as power.
It looks more like something I would never expect from a man like this. It looks like desperation.
The anxiety drains out of me. Not all of it but enough for something else to take its place. Something warm and fuzzy, like hot silk in my belly. It spreads out, heating my skin, causing my pulse to skip as my brain tries to process my new reality.
I can’t leave.
And he doesn’t want me just as his assistant. He wants more. A lot more.
“Why me?” I ask, my voice barely audible. “You could have any woman in the world. Why me?”
He lets go of his desk and comes around to me. He’s so tall that I feel like I’m looking up at a giant. His shoulders are broad, and beneath that thousand-dollar suit he’s wearing is a body painted with muscles.
I should feel tiny beneath him. But I don’t.
I feel found. I feel seen.
“When I first saw your face, Hazel,” he says, his voice raw and low, like he’s fighting to control himself, “I couldn’t breathe. And I haven’t been able to breathe since.”
He stops in front of my chair, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his body. Close enough that I can smell his cologne and thatotherscent—the scent that must be him. It enters my nose and lights me up like a drug.
I think about the smiley face on his cup and my borrowed shoes and the blouse that barely fits me. I think about the thirty-seven job applications that went nowhere. About how I’ve felt invisible for my entire life, ignored and looked over by other men.
Butthis man, the king of all kings, chose me.
I should be terrified. I know that. I can hear Cassi’s voice in my head telling me to get the hell out.
Instead, I rise from my chair. My legs are quivering, but they hold. I stand in front of him and lift my chin.
“Okay. Show me what you need.”
4
DOMINIC
