Dirty Boss (Dirty Rich 2)

I unlock the dressing room door and step into the main room. The sweet expression falls off Kat's face. She looks me up and down.

"Now I know you're up to something." She shakes her head.

"It's for clubbing."

"What is the point of the zipper? So strangers can grope you more easily?"

"And if you wore it for Blake?"

Her cheeks turn bright red. "I'm going to use the bathroom. I'll meet you at the entrance."

"Sure thing."

I change and make my way to the register.

This job is too important to risk with sex. But there's no reason why I can't tease Nick. There's no reason why I can't change into this slinky black dress on my way out the door. No reason why I can't make sure he wants me as much as I want him.

Chapter Six

Monday morning, I go straight to Nick's office.

The room is awash in soft white light. He's standing behind his desk, all tall and statuesque.

His expression is stern. He really could be made out of stone.

I knock even though the door is wide open. "Mr. Marlowe?" I bite my tongue. I worked retail for almost three years. I know how to play nice with people who frustrate me.

"How was your weekend?"

"Great. I got a lot of thinking done." My cheeks flush.

His lip corners turn down. "Do you really want to continue this?"

"Continue what?" I play dumb.

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into, Ms. Wilder."

"I'm not following."

"Yes you are."

My cheeks flush.

He knows I'm following. He knows exactly what I'm thinking. It's written all over his face. I clear my throat and smooth my blazer.

I have to ask him for something and he's not going to agree if I push him. "I apologize, sir. I'm not sure what got into me."

He nods, accepting my apology. But there's no sign he's buying my coy reaction.

He takes a step towards me. "Your apartment is ready. Fully furnished. Your belongings won't be in until the end of next week, so I had my assistant pick up a few necessities. Call if you need anything else."

"Thank you."

He steps out from behind his desk, so he's about five feet away. "Would you like a drink?" He nods to the mini-fridge.

"Alcoholic?"

"Caffeinated."

"Whatever you're having."

He kneels to open the fridge. Somehow, he looks badass and in control on one knee.

Nick pulls two cans of black iced coffee from the fridge and hands one to me.

I nod a thank you and pop it open. Not Diet Coke, but not bad.

I take a long sip. I cultivate every ounce of my courage.

I need to do this now. Before I'm too tongue-tied to speak.

Deep breath.

Here goes nothing.

I try to copy his confident posture, but my back isn't having it. "Gabriel has no interest in training me. I don't blame him, but I do expect to work with someone who is willing to teach."

His expression gets protective. "Do you have a suggestion?"

I dig my fingers into the frigid aluminum. "There are only three senior programmers at Odyssey. Somehow, I doubt that David will be any more interested in training."

Nick nods. "You'd like to work under me?"

Fuck yes. I press the can to my neck to counteract the heat spreading across my chest. "You're the most qualified person. I'll learn the most under you."

His eyes bore into me like he's examining my intentions. "I can spare two hours a day. You'll have to get to the office by 8 AM and you'll have to stay until I'm finished, so I can check your code."

I nod. "Of course."

"You'll have some twelve-hour days. Fourteen, even."

"As long as I have an hour or two for exercises. My back—"

"I remember."

"I thought that night never happened."

He frowns. "Is it going to be a problem for you, working so close to me?"

Of course. It's a problem being in the same city as you and not begging you to take control again. "If it was going to be a problem, I wouldn't ask. I want to learn everything I can from you."

"About AI?"

"What else would I mean?"

He stares back at me like he doesn't buy it. "You're not good at playing coy." He finishes his can of coffee in one swig and sets it in a recycling bin. "Lizzy—"

"Nick."

"I want to work with you. You're an excellent programmer for your experience and you have a knack for AI."

"Thank you."

"I've cut you slack because of your skill."

I swallow hard.

"But that ends now. I'm not making any more exceptions."

"Of course. This is professional. We're colleagues. That's all."

"Be here at 8 AM tomorrow. We'll work in my office, alone, until ten."

"Sure."

"If there is a problem—"

"There won't be. Thank you for the opportunity."

I hold his gaze for a moment. There's something in his eyes, something more than professionalism, but I can't place it.

My nerves are shot. I give up on coding around four and kill time playing FreeCell. When the office clears, I leave.

I go straight to my new apartment building.

The elevator is slow. I slide my key into the lock and pull the door open.

It's past sunset. Warm blue light streams in through the windows, the dark sky mixed with the yellow fluorescent lights of nearby office buildings.

I flick on the light and step into the main room. It's a small space, but it's perfect. There's a full bed against the wall. It's covered with a royal purple comforter and a lilac blanket. Paper string lights line the wall—white flowers with a pale yellow glow. The whole room is shades of cream and purple. Just like the hotel lounge where we met.

It can't be a coincidence. Nick isn't a coincidence kind of guy.

The decorations are beautiful. Feminine, soft, understated. Like that lounge. Like his idea of a woman's bedroom. I turn the main light off to see the string lights in all their glory, but something else catches my attention—

The view is even better in the dark. I soak it in for as long as I can.

I have my own apartment. Even if Nick decorat

ed it. Even if Nick arranged it. Even if Nick is practically in my fucking bed.

It's still mine.

The floor is dead at 8 AM. The only sounds come from the end of the hall. I slide my coat off my shoulders as I make my way to Nick's office.

He's standing at his computer, his attention on the screen. There are two takeout coffee cups on his desk.

He nods to the one on the right then to a small white paper bag on top of the mini-fridge. "Cream and sugar. There's milk in the office kitchen if you prefer that."

"This is fine." I fix my coffee with two packets of half and half and two of brown sugar. "No bagels?"

He looks at me like he's trying to figure out if I'm teasing.

"I'm kidding." I look up at Nick, motioning to my coat. "Is there some place where I should put this?"

"Anywhere is fine."

Doubtful. His office is incredibly neat. I didn't notice before, but it's well decorated. The minimalist artwork is abstract shapes in bold colors. They match the clean white walls and the sleek black desk.

I set my coat on the couch. Such a nice couch. It would be so easy for him to throw me onto it, to pull up my skirt, roll down my tights, and press his palm against me.

My sex clenches. I can't keep thinking about him like this. I need to get a hold of myself.

I take a sip and set my coffee at the end of the desk. It's currently in standing mode. "The apartment looks beautiful. Thank you."

"I'm glad you like it. You deserve the best."

What the hell is that supposed to mean? I look for something to focus on. His office is well decorated too. Mostly black and white with hints of color. "Did you decorate your office?"

He nods. "Yes. I dabble in design."

"And my apartment?"

"That too."

"Oh."

He was in my apartment, picking out the lights and the bedspread.

He picked out my fucking bedspread.

His voice calls my attention. Back to business, thank goodness.

"Are you okay with standing?" he asks.

"Sure. Can I take off my shoes?" I motion to my black pumps. Not the most comfortable for standing.

"Of course."

I slide out of my shoes and press my toes into the squishy anti-fatigue mat.

It must be so handy having a desk that can be any height you want. There are so many possibilities. He could plant me on my back and spread my legs or press my stomach flat against the desk and take me from behind.