Oh. My. God.
Fear grips me like an iron vise. He’s practically turning the company’s biggest decisions over to me.
“You said I can veto any employee time off, right?” I ask. “If I need extra help?”
“Absolutely,” he says.
“Please tell Ruby no senior employees are taking time off until you’re back,” I say. “I’m going to need all hands on deck.”
He nods. “You don’t want to approve it?”
“It takes one thing off my plate, and...honestly, I’m still not sure if I can handle this.”
“You can, and you will,” he says, brushing his sandy hair back, his blue eyes shining like moons. “Confidence, remember?”
I give him a tight, strained smile.
Fine, I’ll try, because I don’t have another choice.
We spend hours going over so much info I think my head might explode.
Mag floods my inbox with what he calls pertinent information. Notes. Personal strengths and weaknesses of everyone I’ll be dealing with outside HeronComm.
He shows me how he keeps track of all the meetings and different contracts, and he outlines his strategy on sealing the deal with Arrowpoint Airlines.
“Don’t forget, I’m always just a phone call away,” he tells me.
I’m not so sure.
“You don’t think you’ll have your hands full?”
“I’m not going to feed you to the wolves, and even if I were, a lot of people’s livelihoods depend on the decisions from the top down. If you have a question, call me,” he says, glancing at the time on his laptop. “Fuck. It’s two a.m. You need to go to sleep.”
“Yay. I only have to get up in three hours.” I spin my finger around.
I wasn’t planning to head into work tomorrow at all, but under these circumstances...
“Forget the five o’clock hell hour. You don’t need to be there until seven,” he says. “It’s Saturday and almost New Year’s. The real work won’t start until after the holiday.”
“You don’t have to do that, Mag. You’ve made me no stranger to late nights and early mornings.”
“It’s been a long day. I need you well rested, especially with everything you’re about to take on. Sleep here tonight.” He rakes a hand through my hair and slides off the bed, moving near my feet.
There, he gently removes my shoes.
It’s sweet how much care he takes doing it.
And yeah, I’m exhausted. If he’s offering me five full hours of sleep, I’m not turning it down. I crawl to the head of the bed and drop my head on the softest pillow I’ve ever touched, pulling the thick duvet up around me.
“Your bed feels like heaven,” I say, letting out a yawn.
“Such a shame. I always thought I’d hear you say that, but I expected it under different circumstances,” he grumbles, giving me a wry grin.
My cheeks flush at his words and that lady-killer smile.
“Behave,” I whisper, tangling my fingers around his.
“All joking aside, are you okay with me crashing here too?”
I laugh, stunned at how considerate he’s being.
“Who would’ve thought the jackass was a gentleman? Sleep here in your bed. You’ve already seen the goods.”
He laughs, climbs into bed beside me, and spoons me so close I sigh.
“You’re hardly just any ‘goods.’” He kisses my hair before whispering, “And don’t think I’ve forgotten about that other piece of unfinished business.”
“What business?” I lift my brows, exaggerating.
Yes, I’m going to make him say it.
Consider it revenge for the last two incidents.
Big mistake.
“The business that involves you fused to me, ruling you with my hands, my mouth, and every last burning inch I’ve got. Mark my words, Sabrina, you’ll come so hard for me you can’t walk,” he growls, lightning in his eyes, tracing a finger down my back until I shudder.
Oh, God.
“That piece,” he whispers. “Soon.”
Holy, holy hell.
Even though his finger lingers outside my shirt, a shudder runs through me like I’ve just stepped into the Chicago winter.
But then that roaring fire in my body sparks instantly.
“You could make a sailor blush,” I murmur.
“You asked. I told.”
“You’re so bad. How am I supposed to sleep now?”
He chuckles and kisses my hair again. “Good night, sweetheart.”
Aaand I’m melting.
It’s the first time he’s ever called me sweetheart, and it’s a tease. Part of a lame joke.
His proximity definitely makes it hard to sleep. I can’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if his phone hadn’t interrupted us.
If instead of running out of my apartment, he let me unbutton his shirt and stroke my hands across his chest.
If he’d let me taste his skin the same way he tasted mine.
If he buried himself in me, what would that be like?
It’s probably for the best I didn’t find out.
Because if I had...I’m not sure I’d ever have a sane thought again after basking in all his smarmy, infuriating, and yes, addictive glory.
16
Rich Prick (Magnus)
A soft dark glow oozes through my window, pushing through the blinds.
I glance over at Sabrina, sprawled out on the bed, her head on my arm, cinnamon hair splayed on my pillow.
She’s fully dressed, except for her bare feet.
Not ideal.
I choke down a lump of frustration in my throat. A crash course in executive management isn’t how last night was supposed to end. There are better reasons for her to wind up in my bed, preferably naked, and I need to rectify that soon.
Since I’m up, though...
Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I disentangle myself from her and grab my phone. Maybe there’s an update on Marissa, some miraculous recovery. Good news to give Jordan would go a long way toward smoothing things over, even if I’m not a believer in miracles.
I know better.
His mom was mugged and beaten to a pulp on her way to the bus stop yesterday. Street hooligans looking for easy cash and an easier target. When I showed up to bring him home, the poor kid thought I was some mob boss sent to kill them.
He doesn’t know me.
Marissa never wanted him to, and she was right to be leery.
I can’t blame the kid for being petrified of going home with a stranger the same day someone put his mom in a coma. I was shocked, too.
She doesn’t want me in their lives. I’ve begged to know if they ever needed my help. Money, resources, contacts, anything.
But she’s never let me do more than send a few cheesy gifts each year and pay for his tuition.
Now, I find out I’m her emergency contact.
I glance at my phone, waking the screen, and hold my breath.
Aside from a dozen early morning company notifications, it’s blank.
No missed calls. No news.
Damn.
Given the shit my old man caused, sticking his dick in employees, I should be relieved Marissa’s assault kept me from making a mistake of my own.