She knew her tone was too tense and urgent, so she tried to dial it back. There was no reason to react this way, anyway. She just got so upset when Jake refused to make the most obvious steps to take care of himself, as if he thought work was more important than his health or his needs.
“I told you my knee is fine.” His voice was guttural, almost a growl, and his eyes looked like steel in the florescent light.
She reached down for his arm. “I’ll get the file for you. Would you please get up off your knee?”
With an exaggerated sigh of impatience, he hauled himself up to his feet, not quite managing to hide the wince as he straightened his bad leg. Now he was looming over Anne, even in her four-inch heels. “Fine. Happy?”
She wasn’t happy. Sometimes he was so stubborn he made her want to scream. “Why didn’t you ask me to get the receipts for you?”
“You were on the phone. Am I not allowed to search through my own files?”
“No, you’re not. I’ve told you over and over again. You end up putting things in the wrong place, and it takes me hours to find them again.” She grabbed the file from his hand, glanced at it, and then leaned over to slide it back into place and then push the drawer closed.
“I still need the—”
“They aren’t in that drawer. They’re over here.” She walked over to the opposite wall, her heels clicking on the floor. She smoothed down her skirt, since it felt like it had gotten twisted slightly. She vaguely hoped her ass didn’t look as big as she’d thought it did this morning. She leaned down to open the correct drawer and rifled through files quickly until she found the right one.
Jake had followed her over, and she could feel him bristling behind her as she turned around to hand him the file.
He stared down at it. “Why aren’t the receipts in the February drawer?”
“Because the receipts are all over here. If you would let me keep the records electronically, we wouldn’t have this argument every other week.”
“Do you really think I’m going to trust the last ten years of my life to a computer? You’ve got to be crazy. I could lose everything with a key stroke.”
He’d always been kind of a Luddite. A lot of the time she found it adorable.
Not today.
It bothered her unreasonably that he evidently thought the last ten years of his life were only about building this company. As if he was nothing but his work.
She cleared her throat. “Keeping paper records means you could lose everything to a fire.”
“The cabinets are fire proof.”
She shook her head. “Fine. It’s your business. Your files. You can keep ancient paper records if you want. But you aren’t allowed in here. If you want something, ask me.”
He stepped a little closer and braced his arm on the cabinet next to her shoulder. “Who’s the boss here anyway?”
She could tell his mood had changed. He wasn’t angry. He was still bristling, but also almost dryly amused. The transformation of his expression left her breathless, as did his proximity.
Her eyes were right at his chin level, so she had to tilt her head up to meet his eyes. “I’m not trying to be the boss.”
His mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. “You’re pretty bossy, to not be trying to be the boss.”
She swallowed hard, clenching her fists to keep herself from putting her hands on his chest. When he was like this—clever, dry, focused on her—she always seemed to want him the most. “Well, I’m the boss of this room. You’re the boss of everything else.”
“Is that how it works?” He braced his other hand on the cabinet, trapping her between his arms.
“Yes.” She was flushed all over and suddenly conscious of the ache of arousal between her thighs. She had no idea when that had happened. “That’s how it works.”
She could see that he was breathing quickly too, and he looked as hot as she felt. Something new had blazed up in his eyes, and for a moment she was sure he would kiss her.
But he didn’t.
Of course, he didn’t.
She was his assistant. Not his girlfriend.
“Okay then,” he muttered, dropping his arms and stepping back.