Falling for My Dirty Uncle

Shit. That’s never good. I’m sure Lis Langley has a thing or two to say about the wedding last night.

“What’s Lis up to now?” I ask him as I reach for the box. I open it and am greeted to the sugary smell of almond and chocolate croissants, raspberry tarts, and an assortment of scones and muffins. My mouth immediately salivates looking at them.

They almost look as good as the man glaring at me…almost.

He leans over the counter, with one hand holding him up and the other squeezing his toned bicep.

“She has fucking eyes everywhere. We’ve almost been outed.” He runs his hands through his hair in exasperation, and I watch as the muscles in his arms tense and twitch. I bite my lip, wanting to calm my hunger.

I shake my head and laugh. “She’s a reporter, they always have their ways—informants, sources. Blah, blah,” I wave my hand in the air carelessly, ignoring the severity in his voice.

This isn’t news to me. I expected that I’d be in the spotlight more, given my position as CEO and as the daughter of Mrs. Westbrook.

“This isn’t funny, Mira,” he yells.

I reflexively lean against the back of the chair, almost as if his voice pushed me. I fold my arms against my chest in defense and straighten my shoulders. “I know it’s not funny, Owen. But what else are we going to do about it?”

“There’s one big thing we should do.” He points to me. “Whatever this is, needs to be dropped. I don’t even know why I brought you here in the first place.”

The last part stings a little, and I try to cover my wince by reaching for my coffee and taking a large gulp. He starts to talk, but I interrupt him.

“I’m well-aware of the repercussions of this. It was made quite clear last night. But in all honesty, I don’t give a damn. I don’t want to live my life according to someone else’s definition. Especially my gold-digging mother and her meal ticket. I’m going to live my life how I damn well please, and I will do it while fucking whoever I choose to.”

He’s gotten under my skin. In more ways than one.

“Is that so? You really think you have a shot against Lis Langley, the stock market, your customers, and your family?” He cocks an eyebrow, challenging me.

“I can take them all on. Dare me.” I lift my chin up to him and reach for a croissant, taking a dramatic bite out of it.

“Please. People like us have no chance in hell against them. They have us all by the balls.”

I tilt my head, confused by his sudden vulnerability. It was cute when he was playing coy last night, but now, it’s discomforting.

He continues, his voice low and rough. “Usually, I don’t fucking care. I play their game with my own rules. But when it comes to another person’s livelihood, I have to be smart.”

I stare at him, my gaze watching his chest rise up and down rapidly, his fingers tapping the counter, and his jaw tensing every so often. Every part of him is so enticing, and I can tell he’s really trying to control and refrain himself against my advances.

“Why can’t we be smart and a still play by our own rules? No one has to know.” I smirk at him, learning forward while placing my elbows on the counter. It does wonders for my cleavage.

His eyes wonder down, stopping briefly at the view, and he pushes himself back to lean against the fridge. “Because that’s fucking stupid.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not calling you stupid. It’s just that that plan is idiotic. It’ll never work.”

“That’s not any better. I’m surprised. A man of your means should know how to defend himself.”

I start to get up from my seat and walk away from him, not needing this shit right now.

“Don’t,” he pleads, and I hear a trace of remorse in his voice, though his eyes burn into me. “I know damn well how to defend myself. I’m honestly just concerned about you. And how this scandal will affect your company.”

He reaches over to the paper and flips it open to a different article that discusses me and my Wilder Lingerie company. It goes into detail about when we’ll be going public, and it has some projections regarding our profitability.

I then read over Lis’ article and her speculations. My stomach drops.

“This is what you need to pay attention to.” He jabs his finger onto the glossy pages.

His expression goes from anger to sincerity, and I stare at him, listening intently.