Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 22067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 110(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 110(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
"For nine years?" I'm this close, dammit. This close to bellowing in hopes that the sheer volume of my words will get past her thick head.
"Actually—"
I'm beginning to hate that word. I realize now it's always she starts with when she's about to piss me off.
"It's eight and a half—"
Knew it.
"That is not the fucking point, and you know it!"
My secretary looks at me disapprovingly. "Language, please."
And now she has the gall to lecture me on my language when she's the one who's been lying through her teeth for almost a decade?
"You could have told me at any point, damn you."
She looks at me...and then blinks as if I've just spoken to her in Sarsi.
"I'm just your secretary, Mr. Kontides. It's not my position to correct my boss—"
Oh, please.
She's really going that route?
My hands clench against the urge to start strangling her. "In case you've forgotten—"
"No worries about that, Mr. Kontides. I rarely forget anything."
I swear, I'm this close to killing her and throwing a party right after.
"You," I bite out between clenched teeth, "have been arguing with me since day one—"
"Exactly. Arguing. But I've never corrected you." She pauses then adds after a moment, "Sir."
Oh, so now she calls me 'sir'?
She's not just unbelievable at this point. She's downright insane, and what's even more incredible is how her personal brand of madness wants me to kill her and kiss her at the same time.
What the hell has this woman done to me?
I look at my secretary, and all I can remember is how she looked last night.
Hair down.
Curves outlined.
Legs bare.
Men staring.
And speaking of other men...
I remember how I used to waste time hating on her ex-husband, when all along—
"You even dared accept my sympathies for your failed marriage!" I find myself actually roaring the words out this time. Which I've never done, not even during the most heated courtroom debates of my entire career.
And only Shayla, dammit.
Only my secretary alone could piss me off this much—
Shayla extends her hand, palm up. "Here, sir."
And she's still not done pissing me off, damn her.
"I'll give you your sympathies back."
I think it's time I remember that I'm a lawyer. And not just any lawyer but one of the best there is in this side of the Atlantic. So why not use that to get away with murdering my secretary?
All she's done in the past ten minutes is give me every reason to fire her.
But instead all I can think about is claiming what everyone else dared to look at, and the next thing I know—
"Take off that ring."
I'm gritting out words that have absolutely nothing to do with me as her boss but everything to do with me as a man.
My secretary looks at me angelically. And then her lips, which look irresistibly luscious all of a sudden, slowly form a word—
"No."
—and I remember too late that the devil comes in all guises.
"Why the hell not?" I'm roaring again, dammit. I can even feel a vein in my head about to pop. It just goes to prove that my secretary is an exception, in all the worst ways one could think of.
Shayla lifts her chin. "It's my ring. I paid for it. I'll wear it as long as I please."
"Why the hell do you want to keep wearing something that's fake?"
"Because!"
A dangerous calmness settles over me. This one, I realize, is my limit. This one, I cannot—and will not—let go.
"Don't push me, Shayla," I warn.
And smart girl that she is, she knows when I'm not playing.
"I have no intention of dating," she says stiffly.
"Ever?"
My secretary shrugs. "Believe what you want—"
"I believe you're a liar."
She flinches.
Good.
A crack in her too-perfect composure, finally.
And since there can only be one reason for her to hide behind the shapeless clothes and that ring—
"Who hurt you then?"
"I never—"
"Don't bother lying." I stalk towards her, and she backs up until she hits a bookshelf.
"M-My personal life is none of your business."
I'm making her stutter.
Good.
But it's not enough.
So I come even closer until our bodies nearly touch, and my secretary's eyes widen in shock.
"You made it my business when you lied to me."
"H-How many times do I have to tell you I didn't lie?""
Her breasts start rising and falling rapidly, and I'm getting distracted.
She then licks her lips, and I'm distracted even more.
"I j-just let you assume—"
"Same thing," I snap.
"It's not!"
I slam my hand against the shelf beside her head, but this time, my secretary manages to stand her ground.
She doesn't even flinch.
And that only makes me want her more.
"One last chance to tell me the truth," I say flatly, "or you won't like what I'll do next."
She glares up at me even as the pulse in her neck quickens.
"It's my parents, okay?" It's Shayla's turn to answer flatly. "They married young, they divorced young, shared custody turned me into their personal yo-yo, and after hearing them just arguing nonstop even when they're no longer together—" My secretary shrugs again, but this time she's unable to hide her pain. "It just turned me off relationships completely."