This I can handle.
This I can manage.
It was all that talk about love that made me feel uneasy and, well, insane. But now I’m starting to feel more like myself.
The meeting is going well. I just got Clint to agree to something that I never thought he would: allowing Larson Global a position on the board of trustees for the Tower, as well as a significant portion of shares of company stock bundled in with the price.
I’ve played it off like it was all part of my expectations, but inside I’m reeling at the win. I’m on fire.
“Maria,” I say curtly. “Did you get that?”
I still won’t look directly at her, but I can see that she’s placed the pen down and is lifting her fork.
“I—I wanted to take a bite of my food, Mr. Larson,” she says, with obvious attitude.
“This is important, Maria,” I say. “You can eat after.”
She’s frozen, with the fork floating just in front of her mouth.
A pregnant pause fills the air. I’m waiting to see what she will do, and I feel Clint waiting as well. He wants to see how much power I have over her, just as I want to know.
To my satisfaction, Maria slowly lowers her fork. The food on the end remains untouched. She reaches for her pen.
I repeat the number of shares that Clint agreed to. I can hear her pen scribbling across the page.
Yes, tonight has been a huge success for me, in more ways than one.
Not only have I dominated the negotiation, but I’m also back to dominating Maria. She’s once again my submissive—right where she’s supposed to be.
I notice the endorphin rush flush through me as I think of the power that I have over her. It’s familiar and exciting all at once.
“We’ll set up a meeting to iron out the details. Clint, I’ll have my team formalize the contracts, and then we’ll sit down together, your team and mine. Maria, pull up my schedule.”
“I’m not sure—”
“It’s on my laptop,” I say.
As Maria leans down and starts reaching for my laptop, the server nears our table and begins clearing away some plates. Clint and I have both finished our meals while Maria’s is still untouched.
“Please pack that to-go,” I say to the waiter, motioning to Maria’s salmon and greens. Again I sense that she pauses, her shoulders bunched, when I speak. She’s upset.
And I’m on even safer ground.
The earth is not only solid under my feet, but it’s also ground that I know like the back of my hand.
The waiter whisks Maria’s plate away.
Clint speaks. “Yes, let’s get our teams together. Tomorrow afternoon past four is out, however. I’m taking the evening off. The wife wants to go golfing.”
Maria rights herself and sets my laptop on the white tablecloth, in the empty place where her plate used to be. “What’s the password?” she says coolly. She’s upset all right.
Since I don’t want to say it aloud, I lean over and type it quickly. As I pull away, I can’t help but look at her. Her face is flushed. Her dark eyes are burning.
For a fleeting instant, as our eyes meet, I feel her anger.
Unexpectedly, it hurts me.
I pull my eyes away.
Clint rambles on. “That’s what happens when you’re married. Fifty years, we’ve been together. There’s a reason people call marriage the old ball and chain.”
He gives a heavy sigh. “What about you, Hunter? I see you’re not wearing a ring. Are you in a relationship?”
I feel Maria’s eyes on me. The word “relationship” seems to send a tangible spike of energy between us. Just last night, we talked about my issues around the word. I know that she’s waiting for my answer.
“No,” I say resolutely. “And I don’t plan on having one, anytime soon. I enjoy being single. My professional life doesn’t allow time for anything even remotely close to a relationship, and that’s how I like it.”
I hear Maria’s chair slide across the floor with an angry yelp. The motion catches my eye, and I look over and see her standing up.
“Excuse me,” she says. “I—I have to use the ladies’ room.” Her voice is tight as if she’s being choked. She’s backing away from the table. “I’ll be right back,” she says.
As she rushes away, Clint watches her leave. “What’s gotten into her?” he asks. “Your secretary doesn’t look well, Hunter. Is she sick?”
“I have no idea,” I say.
But the truth is, I know what has upset Maria.
I know, but there’s nothing I can do about it.
It’s better this way.
Maria said that I deserve love. But she doesn’t know me. I don’t deserve love. Least of all, hers.
I would only hurt her, eventually. I’m too much like my dad. I saw it so many times—women crying, yelling at him, saying that he broke their heart.
I don’t want to break her heart.
I’m not capable of loving her, in the way she wants. I can’t turn her world from black and white into color.
I reach for my laptop and start scrolling through my calendar. “Tomorrow at two works for me,” I say in a business-as-usual tone. “We’ll wrap things up well before four.”
Clint agrees, oblivious to the emotional turmoil I’ve just experienced.
I’m good at hiding how I feel.
I have lots of practice.
I’ve been doing it my entire life.
Chapter 17
Maria
I pull open the heavy wooden door. I’ve been in the women’s restroom for nearly fifteen minutes. Hunter must be wondering, by now, where I am.
I step into the restaurant’s lobby area. The room is dimly lit, scattered with black leather sofas and chairs. Guests sit, waiting for tables and gabbing as they sip expensive cocktails. A crowd of people swarm around me. I hear a jumble of Portuguese being spoken, and the voices mingle with the music that floats down from overhead speakers.
The crowd clears, and across the room, I spot Hunter. He’s leaning against a wooden beam on the room’s periphery, holding a white to-go container in his hand. The older gentleman, Clint, is nowhere to be seen.
I cross the room, sashaying my hips as I go. I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.
I have never been so embarrassed in my life.
What Hunter and I do on our own is one thing, but in public like this? He treated me like his servant. Just yesterday, we were holding hands as we walked down the sidewalks, kissing in the surf, opening up to each other as we sailed…and he thinks that he can just act as though none of that ever happened? He thinks he can go back to treating me like an obedient plaything?
I’m two feet from him.
“Where’s Clint?” I ask.
“He had to get home. That was very rude, Maria, leaving in the middle of an important dinner meeting like that. In the future, I expect—”
“I was being rude?” I say incredulously. “You kept me so busy writing down notes that I didn’t even have time to eat!”
“We needed notes. The details are important. You’re here as my assistant, Maria. Eating can wait.”
“Don’t act like this is about the fucking business details,” I say. My cheeks are burning. I’m not sure if it’s due to anger or if it’s because I might start crying at any moment.
It could be both.
I jab a finger at his chest. “You know this isn’t about business, Hunter. This is about you and me. One minute, you act like we’re a couple. Yesterday I felt so, so—”
“I don’t want to talk about yesterday,” Hunter says. “Yesterday was a mistake.”
“Yesterday wasn’t a mistake,” I say. Please don't say that. Please, Hunter. “Yesterday was one of the best days of my life.”
I press my lips together to try to keep from crying.
I feel my lip start to tremble. “This is too much for me. This whole thing. I thought I could— I know you said this would push my limits, but I had
no idea—”
“That’s what a limit is,” Hunter says. “You don’t know you’ve reached it until you cross over the edge. Then you know you’ve found it, and you just have to retreat a little. We have to go back, Maria. We have to go back a few steps, to before—”
“I can’t go back!” I say. It comes out louder than I expected.
I try to take a deep breath, but as I draw in air, it comes into my lungs in uneven spurts. The jagged breath does little to compose me. I burst out, “I can’t go back to how things were. It’s too late, Hunter. I already have feelings for you.”
This seems to stun him. He flinches backward, as if I just slapped him across the face.
I shake my head. “I know I have no right to be angry. I work for you, Hunter, I get that. But tonight, when you treated me like your assistant, it hurt.”
I lick my lips and look down at my shoes, trying to figure out how to put my complex emotions into words. How can I feel so much anger, frustration, fear, and desire at the same time?
I try for another breath, and this one is smoother. It helps.
When I speak again, my voice sounds slightly more composed. “I don’t want for this to be just a business arrangement between us anymore. It’s driving me crazy.” My eyebrows peak together as I run my hand through my hair. How can I explain this to him?
“Me too,” he admits softly. “It’s driving me crazy. I feel like I might be going insane.”
“I start to think about what will happen when the two weeks are over. I’m afraid that after all of this, I won’t see you again.”
“You are?”
“Yes, Hunter, I am. I care about you.”
There. I’ve said it aloud.
I wait for him to speak, but he does not.
Come on, Hunter. Please, say something.
I drag my eyes up from the floor and manage to peek at him through my lashes. He looks pained. Almost sick, as if something he ate at dinner is not agreeing with him.
Finally, he speaks. “Maria, I know this is confusing for you. The kind of power dynamic we’re using in the bedroom will mess with your mind. But it’s just sex. You have to remember that. You can’t care about me. You don’t. Not really. You might think that you do, but—”
I raise my eyebrows in shock. “You seriously think that this is just about sex?”
He nods.
“Hunter, what we’ve been doing… I mean—” Suddenly I’m so flustered that it’s hard to speak. Realizing the territory we’re getting into, I lower my voice to avoid being overheard. “It’s been amazing. I love having sex with you. I’ve never felt this kind of sexual connection with anyone, ever before. But it’s about so much more than that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t you feel it? We work well together, Hunter. Not just in the bedroom—I mean out of it, too. On that first night we met when we went out to the pier…”
My voice dies down as I recall the night that Hunter stole me away from the blind date. I look at Hunter and see a faraway look in his eye. I wonder if he’s remembering it too.
I’m nervous now, but I keep talking, “I knew that I wanted to see you again. You were so sweet and funny—and smart. I hadn’t felt that way about a guy in such a long time.”
“That was a fun night, wasn’t it?” Hunter asks. A smile crosses his lips, but then quickly fades.
“Maria,” he says. “I don’t know…” The corners of his lips turn downward. “I’m not sure…”
“Of what?” I ask. “What is it that you don’t know? That you’re not sure of?”
He lets out a pained exhale. I can see that this is hard for him. “I’m good at a lot of things. Sex, business—lots of things come easily to me. But you said that you want to fall in love. I don’t know if I’m the person that can turn your world from black and white into color. I don’t think that’s a superpower that I have.”
I feel myself breathing faster. “I think you’re wrong,” I say softly.
He steps closer to me. I feel my chest rise and fall as I take shallow breaths.
“How do you know?” he asks.
He sounds so desperate to know the source of my information, as if it’s the key to a treasure chest he’s been trying, but failing, to gain access to for thousands of years.
“How?” he repeats.
“Because, Hunter. You already have. My whole world has changed since I’ve met you.”
He steps closer still. His emerald green eyes lock with mine. There’s still some pain there, but as we stare into each other’s eyes, the pain begins to melt, like ice in warm water.
Just as the last drop of pain melts away, he reaches out and cups my face in his hands. Before I can say another word, he leans down and places his lips on mine. He kisses me breathless.
As he pulls away, he speaks. “I want to try,” he says. “Let’s try, Maria. Let’s be a couple.”
“Really?” I ask.
“Really.” He grins. The grin spreads wider until it’s a true smile. He looks as giddy as he did last night, out on the sailboat.
“Okay,” I say. My voice is shaky. Is this really happening? Yes, it’s what I wanted, but I almost didn’t expect to get it.
Hunter Larson, the billionaire real estate mogul who has been treating me as his sex slave for more than a week, has just agreed to be my boyfriend.
“A relationship,” I say aloud, while still mulling it over in my head.
We’re still standing so close. He looks down at me, with loving, sparkling eyes. “That’s what you want, right? For me to be your boyfriend?”
“Yes,” I say.
I lean into him, letting my body rest against his. A flash of attraction passes over me. My boyfriend.
I can’t believe it.
He wraps his arms around me. I snake my arms through his and then around his waist, gripping him tight. “Yes, this is what I want,” I say, bursting with happiness.
“Good,” he says. His breath tickles my hair. “Then it’s official. We don’t have to hide our relationship anymore. You’re mine. I’m yours.”
My head is lying flush against his muscular chest. As I smile, I feel my cheek slide across the fabric of his blazer.
“Are you happy?” he asks.
In answer, I nod.
He squeezes me, and I experience another rush of arousal. Apparently, Hunter feels it too, because he runs his hands up and down my body. The feel of his hands along the bare flesh of my back and down my hips over the material of my dress makes me weak in the knees.
I look up at him. “Are you?” I whisper.
My head is tilted up, making it easy for him to lean down for a second kiss. At first, he sips my lips, giving me gentle, light kisses.
“Yes,” he says, between kisses. “Very.”
Then, finished delivering his answer, he kisses me again. This one is deep. It lasts a long time. As we kiss, the world falls away. The music fades; the jumble of Portuguese becomes a soft, oceanic wave of background noise, barely audible. I start to forget where we are. I press my body into Hunter’s and slide my tongue against his.
Hunter pulls away first.
Our location hits me. I was so into our kiss, I almost forgot where we were. “I wish we were back at the hotel room,” I whisper breathlessly.
Hunter reaches for my hand and weaves his fingers in with mine. “Let’s go,” he says. His tone is urgent.
“Yes,” I say with a giggle.
He practically pulls me through the lobby. We’re moving so fast, people actually turn their heads as we pass, as if wondering what kind of emergency we’re facing. Running from someone threatening, or running to a dying loved one?
No, I think with another giggle as we burst out onto the sidewalk. The emergency is one of our own making. We’re desperate to make love as a couple. It can’t happen fast enough.
Hunter is moving fast, but I’m able to keep up with him. At every crosswalk, we kiss while waiting for traffic to stop.
It’s all a blur.
I don’t know how we manage to get into our hotel room with our clothes still on. But once we’re in, with the door locked behind us, our clothes come off in a hurry.
We kiss as we pull the clothing items off each other. Within seconds, I’m naked, and he’s lifting me up in his arms while kissing me. He begins walking toward the bed. My fingers are woven through his hair. I can’t think straight, but I’m vaguely aware that for the first time, I’m completely naked with Hunter. And he’s completely naked, too.
It’s the first time we’ve ever had sex like this—without anything on. Hunter usually likes it when one of us is wearing something. He might insist that I wear a bra, tassels, a collar… Once he had me wear thigh high boots the entire time. It’s rare that he removes any of his clothing, aside from the essentials.
It feels good to feel all of his exposed body next to me as he lies me down on the bed and crawls on top of me.
We’re both sun-kissed from our time on the Brazilian beaches, and warm from our run through the city streets. His hips rest between my legs.
I lift my hands and begin stroking his temples. My fingertip brushes against his earlobe, and then my hands rub against his strong jawline. He hasn’t shaved since we arrived in Brazil. His cheeks and chin feel rough beneath my fingers.
He’s staring into me, his green eyes dancing against mine. When our lips meet in this position, our bodies undulate as our kiss unfolds. I feel as though our bodies are kissing, maybe for the first time. I can feel his erection, pressing against my abdomen.
My knees are bent, my feet flat against the soft covers. I move my hips, torso, chest in a wave of pleasure as our kiss deepens. Then I lower my hands away from his face and trail my fingertips down his smooth, tanned chest.
He reaches down and begins stroking my face tenderly. He watches his own hand move over my forehead, and cheekbone, with an expression of awe. It’s as though he’s noticing and feeling my features for the first time.
Bought by the Boss Page 11
