“That’s because she never did these.”
“How am I supposed to know what to do?”
“You’ll figure it out.” He smirks and I want to hit him…hard.
“You’re punishing me for having an opinion?”
He shoots me a hard glance and stalks out of my office.
What the fuck?
I growl in frustration. He is so exasperating and irritating and angry and…hot. If I weren’t so pissed right now, I’d definitely be turned on.
I pick up the phone and dial Kate’s extension. “You wouldn’t happen to know how to compile a contract, would you?”
***
It’s nearing eight o’clock when I hear Benjamin’s office door open and my sore fingers stop typing. There’s a hesitant knock against the thin glass of my door, just as my scowl disappears into a mask of indifference.
“Come in.”
I focus on my computer screen, typing away even though I know he’s staring at me from the doorway.
“You’re still here?”
I look up at him expectantly, observing the briefcase under his arm. “I’m finishing my work, sir.”
I need to watch myself or I’m going to get fired in a second. I’m so mad and hungry and tired. I’ve been here for over twelve hours.
“I didn’t expect you to still be working.”
“You didn’t tell me I could leave, Mr. Scott.”
He rubs the back of his neck in a brief uneasy gesture. “I’m sorry. Please, stop. I didn’t mean to keep you here this late.”
I look into his surprisingly contrite expression.
Good lord, he’s beautiful.
“If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to finish this. I’m nearly done,” I say finally, which disarms him, giving me the control for once.
“Sure.”
I feel his eyes boring through my skull as I continue typing. “Do you need something from me?” I ask, without offering a glance in his direction.
“Uh, no. I guess not. Good night, Darcy.”
“Good night, Benjamin.” I try to control my reaction as I hear his first name tumble from my lips…on my first day on the job. That’s it. I’m done for.
I don’t dare risk a peek to the entranceway until I hear the door close. The smell of his cologne is still hovering in the air, consuming all space around me. He holds so much power over me, effortlessly. I truly can’t stand him, and yet I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anyone.
I think of Adam and our three-year relationship. I think of our lack of chemistry, how hard it truly was for us to connect with one another. Adam was a fantastic boyfriend. He was sweet, gentle, attractive, and we were comfortable in our relationship. He accepted me, accepted my complicated past, but I needed a spark. I needed fire. Heat and passion. Orgasms…things he could never give to me.
For so long, I’d wondered if the notorious spark was simply a tall tale, a ruse to sell a convincing love story. Austen had cemented the notion in my brain and I could never disregard it. All my life, I’ve searched.
The moment I met Benjamin Scott, I was electrified. The feeling I’d been searching for was suddenly there…latched to the one person I can’t have.
I take the contracts I’ve made from the printer, giving the papers a sound once-over. I did it. I made it through my first day.
I walk into his darkened office and lay each of them flat on his immaculate desk.
There. Take that, Mr. Scott.
Back in my office I retrieve my bags, turn off the lights, and head for the elevator. Everyone has already left for the day. Despite my aching belly, I’m pleased knowing I worked hard today. I feel accomplished.
When I step out into the large foyer to head out into the cold night, Evan, the security guard on duty, acknowledges me from his desk. “Working late tonight, huh? And on the first day.” He shakes his head. “You’ll do fine here.”
I like him already. “Good night, Evan.”
I shiver as the doorman opens the door for me. I turn left to head home, breathing in the New York City fumes I hate to love.
“Miss Fontaine.”
I whirl around, hearing his familiar voice. Benjamin’s standing outside of a black limousine, watching me expectantly. “Were you just going to pass right by me?”
“I didn’t see you, sir.”
“I figured I’d give you a lift home.”
“You don’t have to. I can walk.”
“It’s late, Darcy. You should never walk alone at night.”
“I’m completely capable of handling myself, Mr. Scott.”
He shakes his head, looking like he’s enjoying my sudden stubbornness. “Can you just get into the car?”
Knowing I really don’t have a choice, I comply.
His limo is exactly how I would have imagined it. Expensive, classy, sleek, and entirely black. There’s a small bar in the middle, the liquor bathed in warm light, sending my eyes rolling back into my brain.
“Where do you live?”
“34th Street. Herald Square.”
Benjamin presses a button next to him. “Dimitri.”
“Sir?”
“34th Street.”
“Yes, sir.”
The car surges forward and I look everywhere else to avoid the intense man next to me.
“Have you eaten?”
At his question, which is also most certainly a request, the familiar butterflies build like a cataclysmic twister in my hollow belly. I shake my head.
He presses the button again.
“Sir?”
“Kurumazushi, Dimitri.”
Letting go of the button, Benjamin lifts his chin and his mass of waves no longer shield his attractive features. “I hope you like sushi.”
“Benjamin, you don’t have to take me to dinner.”
“I would like to.” The edges of his expression crinkle subtly. “I treated you appallingly on your first day. You seem to stir up the worst in me.”
“Yeah, well, you do the same to me,” I reply bluntly, and he laughs. It’s a carefree, foreign sound that comes from him, a sound that metaphorically knocks me flat on my ass.
“See? You just did it again. No one speaks to me the way you do. It’s all ‘yes sir, no sir.’”
“I was told to speak to you that way.”
“I’m sure you were. Why don’t you?”
I shrug, twirling my fingers nervously in my lap. “I have no idea. I am sorry for my bluntness earlier, about the women you see. It was wrong of me to comment about them. I have no idea who you date.”
“No, you’re right. The women I date are not necessarily smart. I was just surprised you said it. It angered me that you…that you thought of me that way.”
“What way?”
“I don’t know. An ass? A womanizer?”
“Are you a womanizer?” I respond curiously, with a harsh bite to my lip, knowing full well I should have ended this conversation a few beats ago. His angled brows rise, his full lips pressing tightly together. For a moment, I think he’s going to holler, but he just directs his attention to the window.
“I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s been a long day and I’ve—”
His warm, smooth hand covers mine to stop my rant, and if I were standing, my knees would have given out. The electricity flowing between us is unmistakably daunting. I know he feels it too, because his slender throat trembles as he swallows loudly and he immediately raises his hand off mine. “You could say I get around, Darcy. Don’t apologize. I like your bluntness. It’s refreshing.”
“You aren’t going to snap at me?”
“I was just surprised today. I won’t do what I did again. That was cruel of me to force you to do something you didn’t know how to do.”
I nod silently and turn to look out the window. The big city is bright and alive around us.
“How did you figure it out?”
“What?”
“The contracts.”
“I asked Kate and she found out that Jack knew how to do them. He showed me.”
“You finished them?” he scoffs. “All of them?”
“Yes.”
“I feel horrible now.” He laughs softly, turning to the window. “Well, thank you, Darcy. You did remarkably well today, considering.”
“Thank you.”
CHAPTER THREE
Dimitri opens my door and I try to climb out gracefully whilst giving him a quick once-over. He’s huge. He has a thick brown beard, and his nose looks as though it’s been broken quite a few times—badly. He’s the most frightening man I’ve ever seen, yet surprisingly, he has the kindest smile on his face.
“Hi, Dimitri.”
He nods politely. “Miss.”
Benjamin’s hand rests on my spine, guiding me into the restaurant, and the area goes rigid in response to the burn mark he leaves in its wake. I want to feel his hands all over my body, every last inch of me.
The hostess holds two menus and waits for us to follow her despite the groups of people waiting for a table.
“Don’t we have to wait?”
“No, Darcy. We don’t.”
What it must be like to have power.
I try to ignore the pang of jealousy that surges through me as the hostess bends down to try to show Benjamin the specials.
Yeah, yeah. You have big tits. You don’t have to flash him, sweetheart.
“Sophia will be your server,” she announces with exuberance. “I can get your drinks, though. What would you like, sir?”
Am I invisible?
“Darcy?” he asks, glancing over to me.
Ha!
“Whatever you’re having is fine.”
He turns back to the hostess. “Chardonnay then. A bottle, please.”
“Absolutely, sir.” She hurries off.
I study my menu. “What’s good here? I’ve never had sushi.”
“Oh.” His brows curve with sincerity. “Are you okay with eating here? We could go somewhere else if you’d like.”
“No, no. I’m sure this is great; I just don’t know what to get.”
“I could order for you, if you’d like.”
“That would be great. Thank you, Mr. Scott.”
“I’d prefer it if you’d call me Benjamin.”
“Really? Doris told me that you like formality.”
“I do…usually,” he murmurs, running his long, slender fingers across his curvaceous lips.
“Why am I different? We practically just met.”
“I honestly can’t tell you why because I don’t know, Darcy.”
The waitress steps up to us and I quickly realize she is yet another fan of the man across from me. Benjamin holds her gaze impassively, not intimidated whatsoever by her brazen ogling.
“I’m Sophia—I’ll be your server tonight. I know Stacie is getting your drinks. Have you decided what you’d like to have?”
“Omakase for both of us, please,” Benjamin orders politely, although with his cultured baritone, it sounds more like a demand.
“Of course.” She smiles just a smidge too long at him, only leaving to put our order in.
Benjamin leans in his chair, pressing a hand to the tablecloth. “So, tell me about yourself.”
I purse my lips cheekily. “I have a vague memory that you already asked me that.”
I earn an exasperated look from him at my bad attempt at witty banter. “Those questions were for work. I’d like to know more about you personally.”
“I don’t know what you want to know. I’m pretty boring. No, scratch that, I’m really boring.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
The waitress returns with our bottle of chilled wine and pours the translucent liquid into his glass. He lifts it to his mouth and sips. I watch in awe as the wine drifts down beneath the smooth curve of his throat. “That’s fine. Thank you.”
She pours more into his glass and then fills mine. I take a sip as soon as she leaves and resist groaning. Fine? Pears? Vanilla? Smoky butterscotch? This is heavenly.
“All right,” Benjamin says, leaning toward me. “Well, tell me three things special about yourself and I will stop bugging you.”
“You’re killing me here.”
He gazes at me, his eyes alight with laughter.
“Let’s see…” I peer up at the tan checkerboard ceiling, squinting. “I’m warning you. I’m not cool like these supermodels you date.”
“Just say it, Darcy.”
“I read day and night. I’ve never been to a club, and I don’t really know how to text.”
He laughs. “You’re right. You are boring.”
I gasp, hitting his arm. “Well thanks. I warned you I wasn’t like the girls you see!”
What the hell are you doing, Fontaine?
“You definitely are not.”
The appraising way his eyes travel over my face could easily melt a glacier. This is as easy as breathing for him. He effortlessly holds my attention with his beauty without having to really do anything special at all, forcing me to realize that while he’s strikingly handsome, I can’t do this, not unless I want to lose my damn job. He practically told me in the car that he’s some dashing rogue, and here I am flirting with him.
The corners of his lips ease upward. “You know what? I don’t think you’re boring at all. I just think you haven’t had someone yet to show you all the good things in life.”
***
We are on our last course of sushi when he asks about my parents.
“They died when I was seven,” I inform him.
He swallows. “God, I’m sorry.”
“Car accident. It was a long time ago,” I say quietly, hoping he doesn’t ask who I moved in with. But of course he does.
“My uncle.”
“Oh, and what does he do?”
“I think it’s plumbing.” I stare intently at my salmon.
“You think?” he asks, intrigued.
I muster an apologetic smile, hearing my own throaty swallow. “I’m sorry. I really don’t like to speak of him, if that’s all right with you.”
“Oh, oh. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. He just wasn’t a nice man, and I don’t like to remember him.”
“That’s understandable.” He looks away uncomfortably and I berate myself inwardly.
Damn it, everything was going so smoothly.
“What about your family? I met your brother earlier today.”
His eyes flash to mine, strangely alert. “Alexander?”
“Yes, he came by to see you, but you were at lunch. He seems nice.”
“I would stay away from him if I were you, Darcy.” His hand is a clenched fist on the linen tablecloth.
What?
“Why?”
“Because my brother doesn’t care about women.”
“And you do?”
He glares at me over the rim of his glass and I look down, horrified that I let that escape, even if I did say it jokingly. When he doesn’t say anything right away, I begin to fidget restlessly, clasping the napkin on my lap.
“I enjoy women’s company, Darcy. A lot of women. I treat each and every single one with respect. I take them to good meals,” he gestures around, “I take them to the theater. I pamper them. I’m not some horrible monster just because I sleep around. They want something and I want something. It’s an equal arrangement.”
I wasn’t expecting that. Not at all. An equal arrangement? Good meals?
I sit back in my chair, absorbing all he’s just said, and the irony of my current situation dawns on me. I don’t even know what I was thinking. This guy isn’t looking to get to know me. He’s probably counting the seconds until I spread my easy legs for him.
“I see.”
He waits for me to say more and when I don’t, he leans back with his drink. “Are you disgusted with me?”
“No.”
“Then why are you look
ing at me like that?”
“I’m not looking at you like anything, Benjamin.”
“I admire your honesty, Darcy. Please don’t stop that now,” he says, and I bravely search his infuriated expression.
“What do you want me to say?”
“The truth.”
I fiddle with my silverware uncomfortably. “Maybe I’m a prude. Maybe I’m completely inexperienced in the aspects of casual sex, but I don’t believe it’s right to accept things for your body.”
He looks down at his glass and I wonder if these are my last moments as his employee.
“It’s really not that bad, Darcy.”
I shake my head, unsure of how to answer him without further offending him.
“What?” he blurts out, clearly forced off-center by my silence. A few people seated around our table turn to assess us, probably thinking we’re some couple quarrelling.
My brows are high on my face, watching him truly lose his composure for the first time since I’ve met him. He knew what he was doing at the office. He knew how to find the higher ground there, but here, in this private setting and without even knowing it, I’ve laid him bare. When his eyes dart back to mine, I quickly avert my gaze.
“I’m sorry. I’m your employee. I should not be speaking to you like this.”
“Yes, maybe you shouldn’t,” he mutters, downing the rest of the wine in his glass.
Fuck.
I glower at my plate silently until the waitress stops by.
“The check,” Benjamin orders, his voice glacial.
“Yes, sir.”
She returns and deposits the small leather binder on the table. He picks it up, sticks his credit card in, and hands it back to her immediately, not even bothering to look at the price of the meal.
“I could have helped,” I bring myself to mumble when she walks away. “I have cash.”
He shakes his head, and he can’t even look at me. God, this is unbearable. I should have kept walking when he called out to me. When the waitress returns, he leaves her tip on the table and hops up, snatching his coat from the back of the chair and turning as if he can’t wait another second to be outside and away from me. I walk with my coat on my arm through the restaurant, more than a little nervous. He’s holding the car door open for me when I step outside.
Consumed By You Page 3
