Chapter 26

26

June

It was cowardly of me to email my resignation to HR instead of sending it to my boss. But needs must. I need to get on with my life, and the only way forward is to put him behind me and move on. I stare out of the window of my studio apartment.

I did the right thing, I know that.

No way, am I going to risk going into the office and seeing him with his fiancée-to-be. No way, am I risking the sparks between me and my boss, knowing he's going to be marrying someone else. It's so wrong and yet, I can't stop thinking of him. Good thing, I don't have to see him face to face.

If I did, there's no telling what would happen. I can't seem to control myself around him. One glare from those aquamarine eyes of his, one command in that rough voice and I'll do anything he wants. Best not to put myself in that situation again. Best not to tempt myself, which is what happens whenever I see him.

I'm doing the right thing. I am. At least, I'm able to leave the job with a clear conscience. Of course, there's the matter of those three orgasms he promised me… Oh, the look on his face when I told him I'd get them somewhere else! Ha! I wish I had a picture of that. Of course, I'd rather get them from him but— I shove the thought out of my mind. It doesn't matter. That was before he said he was going to get married, and I refuse to be the other woman. Now, I don't have anything to do with him. I don't.

My intercom buzzes. I stand up from my sofa and head toward it. I pick up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Let me in, June," his deep dark voice growls.

Instantly, I'm wet. Ohmigod. He called me by my name, and not my full name but my first name. And he may not have meant the double entendre but tell that to my body and the way it interpreted it. I stare at the receiver, knowing I need to do something. But what? My arms and legs seem unable to move.

"June, open the door," he orders. He lowers his voice to a hush—"Now"—and the command in his tone sends a thrill down my spine. A part of my brain and body recognizes that he's in charge, and I respond. I depress the button to buzz him in, then place the receiver back in the cradle. I unlock the door, hear his footsteps coming up the stairs and take a step back. Then another.

It's not that I'm afraid of him… Okay, maybe a little. But mostly because I know I should have called him or emailed him directly to tell him I was resigning. When the backs of my knees hit the settee in the living room, I realize I've shifted to the center of the area. The door is pushed open, and he steps in. His broad shoulders fill my line of sight. He seems bigger than I remember, taller and broader, and more intimidating than ever.

He takes a step forward and his mere presence seems to suck up all of the oxygen in the room. I draw in a breath, and my lungs burn. A shiver grips me. My knees knock together, and I grab hold of the back of the sofa for support.

He slowly closes the door behind him and locks it. The click is so loud in the space, it seems to ricochet off the corners of my mind. The air around me thickens and pushes down on my chest. The silence stretches. He continues to glare at me, and my nerve-endings tighten.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" My voice trembles, and I clear my throat. I did not do anything wrong. So why am I so scared that he's here ?

He prowls forward, his gait slow, measured, and so purposeful. And he never takes his gaze off of me. I feel pinned down by the force of his intent. He comes to a stop in front of me, and my tiny apartment feels like it's shrunk in size.

"Why are you here?" I ask again. "Shouldn't you be at the office in a meeting with the sales team about now?"

His eyes flicker. It's the only tell that he recognizes I have his schedule memorized. Not that I tried to do so, but I'll admit, I glanced over it this morning. Force of habit, of course. It's not because I wished I were at my desk outside his office where I could glimpse him as he left his office. Then, I cursed myself for being pathetic and logged out of the calendar app.

"Your phone." He holds out his hand.

"Excuse me?"

"Your phone was given to you by the office. I need it back."

Oh, right. I resigned my role, so I should return the office equipment. I pull it out of the pocket of my pajama pants and hand it over.

"And your laptop?"

That was given to me by the company as well.

"It's uh, on my bed."

He looks past me at the unmade bed placed against the far wall of the room. Heat flushes my cheeks. The sheets are crumpled, and I'm sure the office clothes I stepped out of yesterday are on the floor next to it. At the time, I was too listless to gather the strength to drop them into the laundry basket.

But I refuse to be embarrassed by how I live. This is my space. I'm not his assistant here… I'm not his assistant, period. I quit, remember? I pivot and head to my bed. I pick up the laptop from where I placed it earlier, then straighten and gasp. He's standing right behind me. I didn't hear him move. For a such big man, he's silent and walks with a precision, an economy of motion, that I've always admired. A testament to his military training. I tilt my head back, and further back, until our gazes clash. A cloud of heat spools off his chest and crashes into me.

I stumble back...and he moves forward. Which in turn, causes me to take a few more steps. He stalks forward, and I keep moving back, until I hit the side of the bed and sit on it heavily. He comes to a halt in front of me. And now, I'm at eye-level with his crotch. His tented crotch, which hints that he's aroused? Or perhaps, that's just his resting dick state. Not that I've seen said dick in all its naked glory. And now, I never will. In fact, I shouldn't be thinking of his naked cock because he's going to marry someone else.

"You should leave." I glance away.

"Don't tell me what to do." His voice is tight and annoyed, and for some reason, the fact he's let those emotions slip fills me with satisfaction.

"I'm not your employee, anymore," I point out.

"Is that right?"

The smug tone in his voice has me glancing up at him again. But when our gazes meet, I realize it's a mistake. Once again, I'm drawn into the depths of those cobalt irises. I'm frozen by the frosty blaze crackling in them. I'm pulled into him again, and damn, I so wanted to avoid this from happening.

I jump up to my feet, only now I brush up against him from thigh to hip, and my breasts, covered only by the thin fabric of my pajama top, brush against his chest. He inhales sharply. The sound echoes the turmoil in my mind. I shouldn't feel this attracted to him. I need to put distance between us. Right now. I raise the laptop and push it into his chest. And when he brings up his hands to accept the device, I sidle away. He doesn't stop me. I'm not disappointed. I'm not.

I jump up and around the bed to put some distance between us. Not that it helps, because somehow, facing him across the expanse of the mattress feels too intimate.

"You shouldn't be here," I gulp.

"Why is that?" he asks casually, and I narrow my gaze. Typical man. He thinks he can get away with anything. And apparently, I need to spell things out for him. Well, fine. I can do that.

"Because you're marrying someone else," I say through gritted teeth.

"No, I'm not."

"You—" I stop mid tirade. Did he just say— "Did you say?—"

"I broke it off with Priscilla. I stopped by her place before I came over to see you."

"You broke it off with her?" I'm parroting his words, but really, I'm finding it difficult to get my head around what he's saying.

He nods. "Turns out, she was vastly relieved. Like me, she was being pressured into it. By her brother. And like me, she realized as soon as the engagement was announced that it was a mistake."

"A... Mistake?" I rub at my temple, trying to digest this turn of events. "So… You... You're not marrying her?"

"That's what I said." His lips thin. A muscle flexes at his jaw. He seems angry, and I don't understand why. Unless?—

"But why? I thought your grandfather was keen on an alliance with her family. Aren't they as rich and almost as powerful as the Davenports? Didn't he want the two families united by marriage? And won't this risk your own position within the Davenports?"

"Worried about me?" he asks in a silky voice.

A flush courses through my cheeks. "I'm not."

"And you've been listening to office gossip, if you know about the feud between the Davenports and the Whittingtons."

Busted. I shuffle my feet, then tip up my chin, "It's… Was my responsibility to keep my ear to the ground so I knew what was being discussed and could bring anything of importance to your notice."

He nods slowly. "The ever-efficient Ms. June Donnelly. Executive Assistant par excellence, who delivers on her role with ruthless proficiency."

I frown. "Are you making fun of me?"

"Not at all. Just appreciative of your professionalism, is all."

"Now you are making fun of me."

"I told you already, I'm not. And it's your fault I broke it off with her."

I gape at him. "M-my fault? I don't understand."

"Priscilla's convinced I have a thing for you; so is Mary, for that matter."

The way he says 'thing' in a caustic tone has my cheeks blazing.

"I told both of them they were mistaken, but there's no changing their minds." He looks me up and down. There's anger in his tone, but his gaze… It's confused, and filled with lust, and something else. Reluctance. That he's attracted to me, I'm aware, but just how much he's been trying to resist it is something I now realize. It's empowering, but also confirms, there's no chance of any kind of relationship between us.

"Well, you did chase me that day in the gym?—"

"And bend you over the conference table and spank you. And made you almost come at the royal reception. Also, I haven't forgotten that I promised you three orgasms." He nods. "Which goes to show, there's chemistry between us, which will be helpful."

"Helpful?" I shake my head to clear it. What is he talking about? "Sorry, I'm not following you. Anyway, it doesn't matter because I quit this morning." The words are out before I can second-guess myself. Not sure why I put it out there. Perhaps, to remind him that the boss-employee relationship between us no longer exists?

"And I'm here to accept your resignation."

A hot sensation squeezes my chest. My stomach feels like a black hole has opened up in it. Why am I disappointed? Did I expect him to come here and tell me he wants me back? And even if he did, it's not like I would've accepted it. Not even now that he's not going to marry someone else, for he'll never be within my reach.

Knox Davenport, former Marine, now CEO within the Davenport group, is a billionaire and one of the most eligible bachelors in the world. I am no longer his assistant. Our association has ended. So why can't I stop myself from hoping he's here to ask me to work for him again. It was your choice to leave, remember? And it was the right choice. I set my jaw, "If that's all…"

"It isn't."

His voice is stern and deliciously firm. And has a compulsiveness to it that I can't resist. I haven't been able to resist him from the moment I laid eyes on him. He, on the other hand— I tamp down on my thoughts and look at him from under my eyelashes.

"I have another job for you."

"A job?" I scan his features, and the gleam in his eyes sends my pulse rate into overdrive. The hair on the back of my neck rises. Whatever he's going to say next, is not something that I want to hear… Do I?

"A job." He nods.

"What…" I clear my throat. "What is it?" The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.

His lips twist. "Marry me."