Snowed in with Her Boss(8)

By: Maisey Yates

“We shall,” she said, smiling far too brightly as she walked with him to the elevator. They got inside and when the doors slid shut, she rounded on him. “What the?”

“I could have corrected them, but to what end? We’re here for a day, to look the place over and to try and get the best deal possible. Forging something of a...personal relationship with the Fleischers is obviously the way to go. And will make my somewhat low offer look okay.”

“This is awkward. Like...fourteen-year-old boy walking by the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit edition in public, while wearing sweatpants, awkward.”

“That is some kind of awkward.”

“Isn’t it?” she snipped.

“Amelia, you and I have worked together for four years, I’m sure we can sleep in close quarters for an evening without being terribly bothered by it. Unless you’re bothered by it.”

“What? Me? Pfffft.” She blew out a breath. “Bothered. Why would I be bothered?”

“You seem bothered.”

She crossed her arms under her breasts and determinedly stared the elevator doors down, as if that might make it move faster. “Nope,” she said. “Not. Bothered, that is. Not even a little. You’re my boss and...and...a friend kind of, when you aren’t being a grumpy.... Well, you’re grumpy most of the time but...why would it be weird? It’s not weird.”

“Then everything should be fine. I just saw no need to rock the boat.”

She took a deep breath and let it back out again, everything suddenly kind of unsteady. “But you lied. About us. And I don’t...I don’t really like that.”

“Why?”

“Because. Just...you know, forget it.” She waved a hand in dismissal. “It doesn’t really matter.”

“Fantastic,” he said.

The doors slid open and Luc walked out without waiting, then strode down the hall to the room, punching in the code quickly. She followed, trying to process why exactly she was suddenly in annoyed territory, rather than just slightly uncomfortable territory.

Shades of Clint?

No. This had nothing to do with Clint, and all the garbage happening with him. That was a separate drama and would have to wait to be dealt with. Probably while they were all spending Christmas together. His parents and hers, and...just great.

Anyway, for her to be bothered by Luc’s little lie on that level would sort of require her to have feelings for Luc. And for him to be tricking her into thinking he had feelings for her. Which was not what was happening. So really, it was nothing like Clint. So she should just chill.

She walked into the suite and breathed a sigh of relief. It was large. With more than one room. There was a couch right in the main room, and there was what she assumed to be a bedroom off to the left. There was another door to the right that might just be another bedroom.

“There,” he said. “This will actually be quite convenient, because if I need you for anything, you’ll be right there.”

She nearly choked over the image that put in her head. Of Luc needing her. In the night. His big hands, dark on her pale skin as they skimmed her curves and...

“Yeah,” she said. “For work stuff.”

“What else would I mean?”

“No...personal stuff.”

He arched a dark brow. “Amelia, does this make you uncomfortable? Because the last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.”

“No,” she said. “I’m fine. It’s a nonissue. We’re adults. We can manage.”

“Let me tell you,” he said, dark eyes blazing as he took two steps closer to her, his expression intense. “I know some men just take what they want, with no thought to how it might affect other people, but I am not that man.”

“I know,” she said, feeling breathless now.

“That is for men like my brother.”

She swallowed hard, her heart beating fast. “Yes, I know. Your brother the fiancée-stealing jerk.”

“Have you heard the story?” he asked.

“From you? Only every time his name is mentioned in the news. I also read the article in Vanity Fair about The Wedding That Wasn’t.”

Top Books