Brothers of Paradise Series

Ice Cold Boss C33



He huffs. “We’re seeing each other, my sister’s wedding came around, and I invited you.”

He says it like it’s simple. Like he would bring anyone he was seeing to meet his entire family on a whim. Am I crazy for feeling like that’s such a big thing? I know it doesn’t mean anything, but the idea of it still makes me nervous.

“So I’m playing a part.”

“If you want to see it like that, yes.”

“We can’t mention that we work together.”

“No.”

“And you’re really okay with that? Deceiving your family just so we get more hours to work on the model?” There’s no censure in my tone, just surprise. I think of my own mom and dad, working so hard to send me to college, to their happy smiles. They’ve never met a single one of my boyfriends. What kind of relationship does Henry have with his parents?

His eyes stare into mine. I can tell that my words have hit home-his face is almost aggressive in its professionalism.

“Do you think me immoral again?”

I want to shrink under that gaze, to twist or turn, to hide. I don’t.

“No, but I think I’m missing the full story.”

He nods once, a dip of his chin that sends thick hair cascading over his forehead. My hand aches to push it back, to see if it’s as soft as I imagine.

“You’re perceptive.”

“That’s the third compliment you’ve given me tonight. Are you sure you’re all right?”

His eyes lighten, and some of the tension eases between us. He looks from me to the contract on the desk. “Finish the contract, Miss Alvarez.”

I write down the terms and conditions we’ve discussed. It’s hard to focus on the paper with his presence, larger than life, looming behind me.

“And compensation,” he points out. “You’ll be paid for the weekend, in overtime.”

I note it down. “We’ll bring our work laptops?”

“Yes. Do you need something to wear?”

The question makes me pause. “For the wedding?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know the dress code, or the location. Or anything at all, for that matter. Will we be staying within the continental US?”

His lips twitch with a smile. “Yes. The ceremony is inside, reception outside. Black tie. You’re doing me a favor here, so if you need a dress for the occasion, you charge it to my account.”

I swallow. This is spinning out of control faster than I’d imagined, and this whole contract thing had been my idea to begin with.All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

Beneath my name, my hand hovers, not quite ready to sign. “One last thing.”

“Name it.”

“Whatever happens that weekend, I don’t want it included in your evaluation of my job performance, when you consider hiring me after my first six trial weeks.”

There’s complete silence. My words have gone off like a nuclear bomb, and it isn’t until I see the heated surprise in his eyes that I realize exactly what could be implied.

“What I mean is-”

“I understand. Granted.” He nods to the paper. “Time to sign, Miss Alvarez.”

I lick my lips. There are a million things I could throw in, just to see if he would give them to me. It’s a good opportunity for me. It’s also reckless and unprofessional and wild. And somehow, I have a niggling suspicion that even if he said no to my demands, I would still want to go to his sister’s wedding, just to catch a glimpse of Henry without his facade.

“Having second thoughts?”

I sign in a flourish and push the paper his way. “Never.”

His lips are curled as he bends over to sign, putting his face so close to mine that I can feel the heat from his skin. His hand moves in quick strokes as he initials the contract.

“There,” he murmurs. “We have a deal.”

“Mmm.”

“Wasn’t so hard to negotiate, now was it?”

This close, his eyes are startlingly green, lightly flecked with hazel. He glances down at my lips, and my face moves of its own accord, turning up to his like a sunflower to sunlight.

He bends closer still, the heat of his breath ghosting against my lips. Adrenaline, present in my veins from our negotiation, makes my blood boil in anticipation. We’re too close. We’re not close enough.

And then our lips meet.

It’s like water breaking through a dam, a force stronger than both of us, my self-control melting and dissolving like mist. There is no hesitation at all from Henry’s side. His lips press against mine insistently, demanding, and my mouth obliges. I raise the stakes and run my tongue lightly over his lower lip.

He groans against my mouth, and as the kiss deepens, I unravel, slipping into a place where nothing matters but him and me and this connection. He tastes faintly like whiskey and heat, kissing me as fiercely as I’m kissing him. Callused fingers tip my head back further before sliding softly over my cheek. It’s unexpectedly gentle, a cool touch against my burning skin.

Henry ends the kiss, straightening with a sudden movement.

I stare up at him and he stares down at me.

“Damn,” he says softly. The hand on the desk curls into a fist. His jaw is working, the professional armor cracking at the seams. “This is… inconvenient.”

My throat feels dry. The skin of my cheek is hot where he touched it. Inconvenient is a mild word for the attraction I feel, pounding through my body. “It certainly is.”

His eyes snap back to mine. There’s no way I can look away, not when they blaze like that. “This wasn’t planned. I didn’t hire you for this.”

“I know,” I say, although I didn’t, not until he said it. Something in me relaxes.

“Faye,” he says, and I shiver at the pleasure of hearing him say my name, “I crossed the line. I’m sorry for that. Whatever course of action you want, I’ll support. But I want you to know that it will never happen again.”

Disappointment wells up inside, unbidden but unstoppable. To not be touched by him again isn’t what I want, not at all, despite how inappropriate it would be given our professional relationship.


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