Seduced By My Billionaire Boss

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an entire merger to write.”

This time, I did slam the door shut behind me, turning only long enough to get a single glimpse of Thomas’ surprised face.

I paused at the top of the unending stairwell and peered dubiously down. Okay...this could have been a bad idea. I wriggled my toes in my pricy, high-heeled shoes and wondered blandly how long they would last. I could always take them off...my eyes flickered doubtfully down the column...but who knew how many people trampled through this thing each day. For all I knew, this could be the unofficial sex stairwell. It was Michael’s building, after all.

I decided to keep them on, and had just made it down the first floor when I heard the door open and shut again above me. What had I done to deserve this?! I hurried on, but in only a few seconds, Thomas was standing by my side.

At first he didn’t say anything. His eyes simply swept over my flushed cheeks and angry, pursed lips. Then they drifted down to my quivering ankles, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Is there something wrong with the elevator?”

I couldn’t tell if he was teasing me, or just being polite. Either way, I wasn’t in the mood.

“It was taking too long,” I replied in clipped tones. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

“What are you going to do? Take fifty flights of stairs?”

Shit—there were fifty? Oh well, better get going then. I continued my march.

“That’s not your concern, Mr. Larchwood. I’ll see you at the office on Mon—”

“Miss Harks,” he started after me, “there has to be a way we can come to some sort of resolution.”

I continued walking determinedly ahead. “As far as I’m concerned, the matter is resolved. It never happened. I spent the day working with my regional supervisor, completed only a fraction of what I had to do, and now I’m going home to do an entire month’s work in less than forty-eight hours. So forgive me, Mr. Larchwood, if I don’t have time to soothe your fears about your brother’s...indiscretions.”

He came round to stand in front of me, casually blocking my way. I gave him a withering look, but he stared back steadily as if willing the problem out of existence. (In his defense, it was hard to remember why I was so angry when I was staring into those blue eyes.) After a moment, he cocked his head to the side with an adorable little smile.

“A month’s worth of work, you say?”

In a flash, he was the boss again. All first names were forgotten, all kisses in the penthouse long since passed. He held out his hand expectantly for my briefcase.

“Well, let’s take a look, shall we?”

* * *

Twenty minutes later, we were sitting in the top floor of a coffee shop. A floor I never knew existed, despite having frequented the same shop since I moved to the city. The second we walked inside, a series of whispers spread from behind the counter, and a moment later, the manager came out and started manning the machines.

“Is it just the usual today, Mr. Larchwood?”

Thomas took off his coat, and a barista appeared from nowhere to hang it on a rack behind the counter. I blinked in disbelief. It was just like when Michael snapped his fingers at the gym and got us those drinks. I was pretty sure the gym didn’t have waiters, just as sure as I was that the Starbucks didn’t have coat service. And yet, there we were.

“Actually, Billy, I need a quiet place to work today.”

“Of course, sir. Alicia will show you up, and your drink will be there momentarily.”

Thomas nodded before turning deliberately to me. All at once, my coat was lifted off my shoulders as well as a sweet-faced girl asked, “And something for you, miss?”

I tried to play it cool while simultaneously grabbing my phone from my jacket pocket as it was whisked away. “Um...just a house coffee, please.”

“French or Italian?”

I blanched. There wasn’t just...house coffee? That wasn’t a brand?

“Italian,” Thomas answered for me, gesturing me to follow the girl named Alicia. I hesitated and reached into my purse for my wallet, but he just put a guiding hand on my back and led me to the door. “We don’t pay here.”