It’s like she can read my mind. ‘Yes: company. Sit down.’
She doesn’t move. ‘Another order?’
‘If you like.’
Her eyes flare wider, just by a few degrees, but enough to make me wonder if that’s exactly what she’d like. To be told what to do, to be commanded.
‘You haven’t slept all flight. Aren’t you tired?’
I take a step forward. Her eyes widen further still. ‘No.’
The pulse point at the base of her throat shows a fine throbbing. I stare at it for a moment, transfixed. I want Cora; it doesn’t occur to me that I won’t get her.
‘You know, I never get involved with people who work for me.’
She’s quiet. I move closer. She stands her ground, her eyes holding mine.
‘I break a lot of rules, but never that one.’
Her breasts move sharply with each intake of breath. My fingers ache to catch them, to weigh them in my palms, to feel them.
‘Why do you break rules, Holden?’
Not Mr Hart. Holden. It’s so hot on her pouting lips. I want to make her scream my name. Grateful my hangover’s dissipated—beer helps with that—I take one more step. Two more and my chest will be against those soft breasts of hers.
‘It’s a lot of fun. Haven’t you heard?’
She swallows, her throat moving convulsively with the effort.
‘And you?’
She frowns, fine lines forming between her brows. ‘And me what?’
‘Do you break the rules, or play by them?’
‘I—’
Another swallow, her frown deepens. ‘I think rules serve a purpose. They’re there to guide us.’
I make a throaty noise of approval even when I disagree.
‘Anyway...’ She clears her throat and moves backwards infinitesimally.
I’m enjoying this way too much.
‘Anyway,’ I murmur, smiling. Her breath catches in her throat; her eyes drop to my mouth. Her fingers fidget a little more.
‘Sir...’
It’s a pleading sound. Satisfaction envelops me.
‘I’m glad you didn’t sign the official employment forms.’
She swallows. ‘Are you?’
‘It’d be a waste.’
‘Of what?’