by Bay, Louise
There was no doubt that she could help, just not in the way she thought. My heartbeat pulsed in my neck as I imagined her pulling up her skirt and leaning over my desk. Her pale skin would look magnificent against the dark mahogany of the wood. Perhaps I’d leave her like that while I worked—bent over and ready for me. Or have her sit across from me, her legs open, and underwear free. Yes, that would be of great assistance.
“Mr. Knightley?” she asked, and I had to swallow down a groan.
“No, nothing,” I said as I turned back to my computer. She slipped silently out of my office, leaving me with a hardening cock under my desk.
Fuck. Nothing ever broke my concentration, but Miss King had found a way. I was in court tomorrow and I needed to be the most focused I’d ever been. Every case this year was going to be important for me, but this had come from an American law firm that had never instructed chambers before. They’d specifically wanted me, and I wasn’t going to be anything other than my best for them. The last thing I needed was to be distracted by some pretty American who doubtless would have handed in her notice by the end of the week.
Chapter Six
Violet
It was official. I had a crush.
I’d practically skipped to work today. Just the thought of seeing Knightley had my stomach swooping and my nipples hard. He was gruff, antisocial, and sexy as hell. He hadn’t thanked me for sorting out his dry cleaning and he’d in no way made me feel welcome, but I was sure there was a different side to him. The side that had walked me to my interview just a few days ago, the side that yesterday had looked at me like he wanted to fuck me for days. I recognized that look. I just wasn’t used to guys not acting on it. Maybe he was married or had a girlfriend? Or maybe he just didn’t fuck people who worked for him. I liked all the contradictions and complications about him. Most of the men I’d dated in the last few years were simple—easy to read, easy to understand. And boring.
I couldn’t hide my grin as I walked into the clerks’ room. It was before eight and only Jimmy and a girl—Becky, I thought—were behind their desks. I’d come in early, just in case Knightley needed anything from me before court.
“You’re very chirpy today,” Jimmy replied.
“Of course, it’s a beautiful day.” I wasn’t sure if the British weren’t morning people or whether my enthusiasm for the day would be categorized as American.
I headed left toward the admin area, and as I approached my desk I could see a small white box, right in the middle of my workspace. I knew I hadn’t left it there last night. I glanced around for signs that someone had been in the office before me. But there were no coffee cups, coats, or other signs of life. As I stepped forward, I took off my jacket and peered at the box, recognizing the familiar picture of an iPhone. Turning it over, I saw it still had the security label intact on the back.
Knightley. He’d got me a phone.
I lifted the top of the box to discover the latest, top-of-the-line, rose-gold iPhone. It might be the most beautiful thing I owned. I collapsed in my chair and turned over the smooth metal object in my hand. There was no note. No explanation. As if it was nothing . . . but it wasn’t. He hadn’t needed to replace my cell, and he definitely didn’t need to replace it with something so expensive.
There was that softer side again.
I pressed my lips together, trying to disguise my smile.
I put down the phone and logged on to my computer. As much as I might be crushing on Knightley, I still wanted to do good work for him, and I still needed this job.
Jimmy put his head around the door, and surreptitiously I slid the phone into the top drawer of my desk. For whatever reason, Knightley had clearly left it when no one else was in the office. Maybe he’d just been in early. Perhaps he’d wanted no one to see. But I was nothing if not discreet.
“Well done for getting that Foster case billed yesterday. That was twenty-five grand I never thought we’d see.”
“Small steps,” I replied.
“That counts as a giant step from my perspective.”
I nodded. “I don’t want to push too hard, too soon. Especially with this case he’s on now.”
“Agreed, but you’re on the right track. Good job.” He disappeared and I brought up my email, scanning the messages to see if anything had come in from the day before, but there was nothing so I headed to the kitchen. I had no idea if Knightley drank coffee, but it was the least I could do given his desk delivery this morning.
With two mugs clutched in one hand, I knocked on Knightley’s door. I heard him sigh before he replied, utterly exasperated, “Come in.”
I turned the brass door handle and walked in. “Thought you might want coffee before court.”
He looked up at me with a frown. “I don’t drink coffee before court,” he snapped. Apparently, his softer side was hiding today. That didn’t stop his gaze drifting down my body, focusing on my chest and my ass.
I pulled the cup back from where I’d been about to set it down. Oh well, all the more for me. “Thank you for the new cell phone,” I said as I turned and headed back out.
“I owed you a replacement, Miss King.”
“Please, call me Violet. And thank you anyway.” Tell me what the A stands for. I didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to risk being told to mind my own business.
He stood and began gathering papers from his desk.
“Do you need assistance with anything?”
“Yes,” he barked.
My heart leapt. Had I won him over? Was he going to let me help him?
“Please close the door behind you on the way out and ensure I do not have any further interruptions this morning.”
What in the hell had crawled up his ass this morning? Was he like this every time he went to court? “Yes, sir,” I said as formally as my sarcastic tongue could muster, pulling the handle until the old-fashioned door mechanism clinked shut.
Two cups of coffee later, as I was headed to the restroom, I bumped into Knightley coming out of his office.
“Miss King, please watch where you’re going,” he snapped. His bad mood was lingering apparently.
He’d been just as much at fault as me. “We all bump into things by accident from time to time, Mr. Knightley. I trust your mobile phone is safe?”
I swear I saw the corners of his lips twitch, but if a smile was threatening, he managed to suppress it. He stared at me as if trying to figure out how to respond, but he simply took a deep breath, shook his head, and strode out of the door.
I turned and leaned on the ornate wallpaper as I watched him leave. He had a mighty fine ass. It was a shame his attitude needed a workout even if he had his body covered. He should change his mind about coffee before court. It might help.
I stood there for fifteen minutes, watching the door, waiting to see if Knightley came back. But he didn’t. That meant the coast was clear, and for the first time since I started, I had free rein in Knightley’s office. I was going to start filing and archiving today, although I had no clue where I’d begin.
I took a deep breath as I turned the doorknob. It squeaked, as if warning me I was in for trouble. I shut the door and leaned back. Now I knew Knightley would be out of the office all morning, I was better able to take in the room and the size of the task ahead of me. I’d never seen anything like it. Where did I even start? There was barely a path of free space between the door and Knightley’s desk, just stacks of manila files, loose papers, and rivulets of pink.
Several chairs were scattered about the room. All had a stack of paper seated on them, and in the far corner, there was actually another desk, buried under piles of paper and barely visible. I could start there, that way Knightley wouldn’t notice and I wouldn’t feel overwhelmed. I took the first slice of papers from the top of the pile. I might be forty by the time I’d finished.
As I headed back to the door, I glanced around the room, imagining Knightley at his desk. Despite him being moody and mercurial, there was a pull I fe
lt toward him that was something more than his nice ass. I wanted to please him, have him understand that although I had no career, money, or prospects, I could if I’d made different choices. I also wanted him to kiss me, hold me like he had in Lincoln’s Inn Fields.
Chapter Seven
Alexander
Court had been a shambles. I’d been completely prepared and then totally let down when six days into the trial, five more witness statements landed in front of me just minutes before we were due to start closing arguments. The judge hadn’t been impressed, and he’d adjourned the trial for three weeks. My client was unhappy, the solicitors were furious, and although I had to act as if I was taking it all in my stride, if opposing counsel had come near me, I was likely to have punched him.
I pushed open the door of chambers with my foot, my arms full with my wig, robe, and stack of files. The door smashed into the wall, the whole building vibrating with the force. But at least it released some of my frustration at the other side’s incompetence. I’d need to drink, run, or fuck to get rid of the rest.
Clerks backed into doorways as I stormed up the corridor to my office. I slung my wig and gown across the floor, narrowly missing several towers of paper.
“Knightley?” a woman asked from just in front of my desk.
It wasn’t as if I hadn’t noticed Violet King had been coming into my office each time I left for court. She tried to cover her tracks, but the whisper of her jasmine perfume lingered in the air, reminding me of the summer I spent in India before my final year at Cambridge, and gave her away. Well, that and the fact that the papers in the far corner of the room had been disappearing. She couldn’t think I wouldn’t notice. I knew the exact location of each and every thing in my office.
“Miss King, what are you doing in my office?” Today was the wrong day for her to push her luck. Unless she was handing me a glass of whiskey or prepared to slide to her knees to suck my cock, which twitched whenever she was close, she needed to leave me in peace.
She regarded me from over her shoulder, her red lips parted slightly. “I didn’t expect you back.”
“That doesn’t explain why you’re on your knees in front of my desk.” I had to hold back a growl as it was exactly where I wanted her.
“I’m doing my job,” she replied.
“Your job is to assist me. You’re not assisting me if you’re distracting me.”
“I’m just picking up some files for archiving,” she said, looking up at me, her forehead bunched. “How am I being distracting?”
I shouldn’t have used the word, but distracting was exactly what she was. Did she have no clue how sexy she was? Just the way she moved, the curve of her mouth, the way her skirt was a little too tight and a little too short, it was all too tempting.
I realized I was fixating on her hips, her legs, her heels and when I quickly looked up and met her eyes, she looked back at me, her eyebrows raised. She knew that I’d been taking in her phenomenal body, trying to commit each part to memory so I could imagine it later. Instead of admonishing me or scurrying away, she simply let her gaze trail down my body, her tongue darting out to wet her lips just before her eyes met mine.
“Yeah, well, you’re pretty distracting too,” she said. “But I’m not complaining. I’m trying to work. I don’t know who the hell stuck a pole up your ass today, but it sure as hell wasn’t me, so be nice.”
“Be nice?” I bellowed, moving toward her. No one had spoken to me like that since boarding school.
“Yes. Stop being an asshole for a second of your day. I’m trying to help you and you’re not going to frighten me off.”
Oh, she was so sacked. “I’m an arsehole? Is that what you called me?” I stood over her, looking down as she kneeled in front of me. Christ, I swore her mouth was twenty centimeters from my dick.
“It’s good to know you’re not deaf,” she said, her blue eyes gazing up at me so innocently I could almost forget how insolent she was being.
“Is this normally how you speak to your employer?” I asked, fisting my hands. I had the distinct urge to pull this woman to her feet and kiss the impertinence right out of her.
Her eyes narrowed a little as if she was really trying to remember whether this was normal behavior for her. I didn’t want it to be. I wanted the side of her that I saw, however challenging and inappropriate, to be reserved especially for me.
“Maybe,” she replied. “Is this normally how you speak to women who are on their knees trying to assist you?” She gasped as she realized how provocative her question was. She’d gone too far and she knew it.
My heart slammed against my chest and our eyes locked. I didn’t respond. Didn’t trust myself not to reach for her. All I could hear was my heavy breath as she got to her feet and stood in front of me. We were just a finger’s width away from each other. She tipped her head back as she continued to hold my gaze.
Neither of us looked away as if we knew whatever happened next would be crucial. If she touched me I wouldn’t be able to hold back.
“Miss King,” I said, my tone warning. She needed to understand the next thing she said would have consequences. I couldn’t remember the last time I wanted to fuck a woman so badly. I’d always enjoyed sex. It was the ultimate way to blow off steam, but it was rarely much if anything to do with the particular woman in front of me and rather just an internal desire. In that moment I wanted to fuck, but more importantly, I wanted to fuck Violet King. I was pretty sure she was encouraging me, so she needed to be careful. She was playing with fire.
“Mr. Knightley,” she replied, her breathing uneven.
I clenched my jaw, trying to regain control of my instincts. I was a second away from cupping her face and kissing her into next week, a minute away from yanking down her underwear and thrusting my fingers into her. I couldn’t look away. Something was pulling me toward her, drawing me in.
Her teeth plunged into her bottom lip as if she were considering her options.
My heart racing, I reached out and swept my thumb along her mouth, and she released her lip. I paused, enjoying her hot, soft flesh and the buzz that hummed under my skin where I touched her. She was beautiful and I wanted her but we were in my office, in the middle of the day and she was a member of staff. This couldn’t happen however much I might want it to. Even if she was encouraging me.
“I suggest you get out of my office and let me get back to work,” I said. “Now.”
She blinked and turned away sharply.
I exhaled, grateful that she’d freed me from her spell.
“Shit,” she said, grabbing her hip. “My good skirt.”
She’d caught herself on the corner of my desk and ripped the black fabric of her skirt, creating a large hole, exposing her pale skin.
“God damn it. This place is such a mess.” She stomped over to the exit without looking at me and my jaw began to unclench as the distance between us increased.
With one hand on the doorknob she turned to me. “The Jenkins case—how long did you spend on it?”
“Seven hours,” I said without hesitation. I needed her to leave and would tell her whatever she wanted if it made her shut that door with her the other side of it.
She nodded. The neediness in her eyes had subsided, and she was back to business after whatever it was that had passed between us. “Good.” She swept out and I sat back in my chair.
That had been dangerously close.
If she’d not turned away when she had, my desire for her may have overridden my self-control. The way she looked at me, it was as if she was waiting for me to do just that—like she wanted me just as badly as I wanted her. Even though I knew that mixing business with pleasure couldn’t be a good thing, if I found her in my office again, I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to hold myself back. The girl was dissolving my focus, my control, my defenses.
Chapter Eight
Violet
It would be two days until I got paid for the first time since arriving in London. I’d e
aten grilled cheese for dinner the last two nights and it had gotten old already. Friday night I was going to go wild and order pizza. I might even treat myself to a bottle of wine. I straightened my gray skirt before slipping on my jacket. I was going to have to wear this skirt—my only office-appropriate skirt since I’d ripped my black one—every day until I got my paycheck, so I had to do everything to avoid spilling anything. Or ripping it. Again.
I picked up my bag and headed out to the tube station. I wasn’t quite sure what had passed between Knightley and me in his office yesterday. I just knew it was something—he knew it too. He looked at me as if he were half enraged, half desperate to kiss me. And I’d been waiting for him to touch me, press my lips to his, smooth his hands over my body.
I needed to shut thoughts of him down and keep things professional. I’d been rude to him and he could easily have had me fired, but something told me I had to match him, not submit to him, if I was going to get anywhere with this job.
As I got to the platform, I scanned the people left and right of me. Knightley had gotten onto the same train that first morning, but I hadn’t seen him since.
Today I was going to avoid him, which wouldn’t be difficult. I’d never seen him in the admin room, and I wasn’t sure if he’d ever even been into the clerks’ room. I was going to focus on billing and the paperwork I’d managed to sneak out of his office while he wasn’t there.
“Good morning,” I said as I passed Jimmy’s desk on the way to mine.
“All right?” Jimmy asked.
I’d figured out “all right” was the standard greeting between the clerks and admin team. They weren’t actually asking if you were okay, it was just meant in the same way that Americans would say hello. But they were much more formal with Craig and the clerks. It was almost as if we were the servants living downstairs in Downton Abbey—it was a different world.
