He froze in the grand foyer of his apartment and stared at the image of his mother, calmly sitting on the living room sofa and sipping tea like a lady, with the delectable Miss Divine sitting across from her. When his eyes landed on Divine, they slammed into deadly slits. So much for his “intelligent”, “dedicated” assistant. Now instead of fucking her, all he wanted was to take a paddle to her behind—and maybe fuck her afterward.
“Miss Divine?” he queried in a clipped tone.
Lucy carefully set down her teacup over her plate, notably trying not to be affected by the deadly look in his eyes.
“Patrick, my darling, let me look at you,” his mother purred, crossing the space between them. She wrapped him in her arms, where he remained as stiff as a sculpture, and kissed his cheek noisily. Pulling back, she eyed him thoroughly, her eyes sparkling with love. “Now, darling, it isn’t Divine’s fault that she didn’t know better. But I had to set her straight. I told him no mother of New York’s most eligible bachelor will be seen at some hotel, five stars or no stars. I’ve already unpacked and Mr. Pipsqueak, that dear, dear man, is taking very good care of me. I promise you won’t have to worry a thing for me. And as for my privacy, don’t worry dear—I don’t mind you at all. You’re hardly home most of the time anyway, and I’ve got the place almost to myself!”
Holden’s eyes settled back on the calm image of Miss Divine, who was eyeing him warily. Like a pretty little doe. Before it was shot to death. “A word with you, Miss Divine.” He walked toward the hallway and waited impatiently for the whole three seconds it took her to appear.
“Can you explain to me why my mother is here—in my apartment?” he hissed. Not able to control his fury, he grabbed her shoulders and squeezed harshly.
“I’m truly sorry Mr. Holden, but she insisted on staying here. I couldn’t possibly—”
“Spare me the details of your incompetence, Miss Divine. When I issue a request, I prefer it be followed. I will be entertaining Miss MacFadden tonight—you should remember, since you, yourself set it up this morning—and my mother’s presence is very inconvenient to me at this time. I’m sure you can understand why that may be!”
Lucy felt frantic. She fumbled through her brain and tried to find a thought that would help, something that could make things right. “I’ll make sure she isn’t in your way, Mr. Holden. You have my word. I’ll sit with her and make sure she doesn’t interfere with your business.”
“By the way,” he added, sticking his hand into the inner pocket of his jacket and smacking something into her palm. “Take this sissy present back to the store and next time, buy me a real jewel—one fit for a man to give a woman—not a tiny little trinket I need a freaking loupe to see.”
And with that he stalked away, flexing his hands as he did so, as if he’d been struck by a lethal infection just by touching her.
Lucy shivered, feeling cold all of a sudden. She stared down at the elegant Harry Winston box sitting proudly on her palm and felt her heart drop. She had thought the ruby and diamond earrings she’d selected were simple, elegant and breathtaking. When she’d bought them, she had done so with enthusiasm and a thirst to please, the whole experience of presenting a corporate American Express card at the register and buying her heart away at one of the world’s leading jewelry stores having felt inordinately pleasing. But now, after he had brutally rebuffed her taste in jewelry, she felt defeated, deflated and helpless.
As if she should care what an overbearing, chauvinistic son-of-the-devil thought!
“What happened to the woman who wanted to be a hotshot investor?” her brother had asked her over the phone when he’d learned of her new job.
“I’ll get there soon. In the meantime I’m working for the greatest hotshot investor in America.”
“Getting him his donuts, Lucy, is hardly work, and you didn’t need an MBA from Stanford to do that,” he reminded her.
Lucy pursed her lips and realized that if she wanted to get ahead in this world she needed to move fast, because she knew with certainty that she couldn’t possibly last very long at this job, not when she was half-hating, half-lusting after her boss the way she was.
She was almost throwing herself at his feet.
Just this morning, Lucy had suffered a little accident. Actually, it had been his donuts that had suffered most. The double doors to Holden’s office had been wide open as she strode inside, and having to cross the room with his watchful gaze on her person had proved such a strain to her nervous system that suddenly, just like that, the donuts practically slipped from her hands, box and all, and crashed to the floor. Each took its own path and rolled over the floor, determined to get as far away from her as fast as possible.
In the background, Lucy heard all three Bitches snickering because she hadn’t closed the door behind her before this unfortunate event took place.
“No!” Lucy had gasped, horrified, as her gaze jumped from one retreating donut to the next. She squatted down on her heels, frantically trying to grab and salvage at least one of them—hopefully one of the glazed that he liked most.
Holden sprang from behind the desk like a lithe predator, reaching her in less than a second. Lowering to his haunches across from her, he grabbed her hand before she could even catch the quick little donut, squeezing it gently as he bent his face in a way that brought his forehead dizzyingly close to hers. “Leave them.”
His breath had bathed her face in warmth and his eyes had been so dark and clear. She’d expected him to mock her. After all, what sort of klutz was she? Instead, his eyes had roved over every inch of her features, and he’d suddenly, gently, brushed back a strand of wayward hair from her jaw. The Bitches had shut up then, but he wasn’t even paying attention to them, nor was Lucy.
“I’m…oh God, your donuts,” Lucy whispered brokenly, staring helplessly into his eyes. The donuts weren’t her only concern. She was greatly concerned that instead of walking into his office like the super-efficient assistant she wanted to be, she’d looked like a total fool.
He seemed to have other concerns, of a nature Lucy wasn’t quite certain.
“Why are you doing this to me?”
He’d sounded so tortured when he spoke, so filled with emotion, that she had no idea what he meant. All she’d been able to do at that moment was look into his eyes and breathe a very stupid, “I’m sorry.”
He cupped her face, his hands firm and incredibly warm as they cradled her. Lucy held her breath when his eyes fell to her lips and she suddenly found herself wishing…wishing what she didn’t wish…wishing what she’d lately longed for the most.
The only reason she didn’t just grab him and kiss him was because…well…she wasn’t all that brave. Then she heard whispering behind her and she knew it was those damned Bitches, who were now at the very top of Lucy’s newly created blacklist, all three of them crammed into the number one spot together.
Staring past her shoulder at the open doorway, at the source of the sounds, Holden dropped his hands to his sides and said, “Take better care next time, Miss Divine.”