‘Pardon?’ Jade lifted her hand to her head and realised some of her hair had fallen from the topknot she’d tied it in early this morning, and it was now hanging in a long streak over her shoulder. ‘Oh, yes, I did.’
‘It looks amazing. I love the length and the colour.’
‘Thank you.’
But yet again her errant, apparently uncontrollable gaze glided across the room to collide with Alvaro Byrne’s once more. He impacted every sense—her vision and hearing were so attuned to him, but most of all he struck a need for touch within her. It was appallingly inappropriate. Even after the meeting—after he was locked away in his own office—he still oozed animal magnetism, dominating every damn one of her thoughts. It was as if she’d walked into a cloud of heated, sensual fog. She couldn’t see beyond him, couldn’t think of anything else. It was mortifying—mostly because it seemed so beyond her control.
There were plenty of other men in the office and there were those personal trainer guys who worked at the gym downstairs who walked around with equally ripped muscles on show all the time... But none of them had the effect on her that Alvaro Byrne did, even now when he was covered up in his perfectly tailored suit.
The worst thing, though, was that she was sure he was aware of her response to him. There was an arrogant tilt to his lips and an astute glint in his heavy gaze, as if he could see through her superficial layer to that guilt just beneath. He watched her as if he knew, or at least suspected, something was wrong.
And he was right, of course.
She didn’t want to wreck Juno’s reputation, but she didn’t think she could sustain this lie. She’d gone too public and what had been a minor error was now getting more attention than before. That online bulletin had asked again to interview her—it was ridiculous—and more people were trying to follow her online. Thank goodness Juno had shut down her social media platforms because, as it was, some of her old pictures had been recirculating. If anyone looked too closely and spotted any differences between them and the ‘Juno’ in the office now? It was a nightmare waiting to come to life.
But it was that internal battle that was the most hideous. She’d prided herself on her ability to contain her emotions, to be the calm, polite princess who could control her own thoughts and get the job done. But all that control had slid the second she’d encountered Alvaro Byrne.
And now she’d got to know a little of him? He wasn’t the autocratic bully who didn’t bother to listen...in reality he did hear, he did see. He even apologised.
Which meant he was impossible to stay mad with, impossible to say no to, impossible to ignore. But he was her boss. So she had to. Because he was so, so out of bounds.
Something still didn’t add up. And that fact that he was still obsessing over her days later? Alvaro couldn’t wait for tomorrow—Friday, finally. The office was officially closing for Christmas and it would give him a few days alone to sort out his head—and other parts. Because he did not screw around with employees. Ever. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t had the chance. He’d had to be very distanced from one former recruit who’d made a pass at him, but he didn’t like it messy in the workplace.
Outside the company? For a while seduction had been a sport like any other, and Alvaro always played to win. But he’d matured since the days when he’d taken what had been offered just because he could. And he’d swiftly learned it was simpler to stay single. With his workload he couldn’t meet the commitment or expectations of a long-term relationship. Nowadays he enjoyed an occasional brief affair with a woman willing to enjoy the lifestyle—and lack of strings—he offered. A woman unencumbered by unrealistic dreams of happy-ever-after, or drama.
But this woman? An employee. A princess—even if cast off from her kingdom... There was so much drama. So much that was forbidden.
Yet he couldn’t tear his attention from her. Couldn’t stop the urges whispering within—they’d been his constant, irritating companions every minute since he’d sparred with her first thing last Monday morning. Every day since had only added to the weight of temptation. And his curiosity—sexual and otherwise—had equally magnified as the days had passed.
Why had a supposedly streetwise ‘rebel’ struggled to unlock her own front door? Why had she fleetingly looked panicked when she had been late the other day? And he couldn’t be sure, but he suspected that for some reason she wasn’t eating much. He’d seen her pour herself too many coffees from the office filter, adding doses of sugar and cream as if to magically bulk it into a meal... He was probably projecting his own old feelings and fear of hunger on that one, but he’d ordered lunch into the meeting on Tuesday just in case. He’d done the same again every day since, calling it his new Christmas tradition. As if he knew anything about those. But he couldn’t stand to think of someone starving. Sometimes she seemed miles away—Sophy had had to call her name twice the other day. And her immediate apology, the polite smile she offered? The stillness in the way she sat? Her quietness in the office? She was a contradiction. Because he knew that, beneath that supposedly serene exterior, she was stifling a snappy fighter. He wanted that Juno to emerge again. Instead, she’d buried herself in that stupid proposal Sophy had requested.
He’d had to resist, employing every ounce of self-control not to try and provoke the feisty determination he’d discovered lay beneath that poised facade. She was too perfectly contained. Where was the wild ‘Rebel Princess’ her old social media posts showed her to be? Where was the flash of spirit she’d shown him on Monday morning?
While she looked the same, she didn’t seem the same.
But he didn’t need to be wasting his time contemplating her. It was the slide into the holiday season, right? Maybe he’d fixated on her as a distraction from all the happy family, festive tinsel stuff filling the city. Speaking of which, he clicked into his email system to check that his orders to Ellen had been delivered. His foster carer had always worked Christmas, as had he as soon as he was able. He still did. Satisfied when he saw the receipts were signed off, he pushed back from his desk and stood. Thankfully it was Thursday night and he’d made it. He’d not gone near her, not noticed those slim-fitting black trousers and pristine white shirt. He’d ignored the fact that his fingers itched to skim over her lines and that he ached to discover what softness and curves lay beneath...
His staff were going out tonight, celebrating the holiday starting tomorrow. He’d never been more glad that he’d agreed to close the office a few days ahead of Christmas. He told his assistant to pass on his good wishes. They were used to him not stopping in to socialise.
He took the stairs down to the gym, once more trying to work out the never-ending frustration, knowing that when he got back, she would be gone and out of reach. The relief would be immense. Avoidance was his only remaining strategy.