Rule's Addiction (The House of Rule 3)

She settled into her chair and tugged down her skirt, not quite believing that she’d played up her looks for him again today. Her insides were so screwed up this morning that now she wasn’t even sure what her motivation was anymore. Was this now just a vanity thing for her? Did she have an inner vamp living in her psyche somewhere who knew that Garrett was in the building so she was damn sure going to look her best? Why? Was she dressing for her . . . lover . . . her man? She wasn’t really trying to prove anything to him anymore, she wasn’t trying to best him, so what was her deal?

The fact that she didn’t know the answer to even that small question confused her even more. Before she could think too much more about it, the door opened and Garrett walked through. His eyes landed on her at once, running up and down her torso where she sat behind her desk.

Instead of his usual frown, he broke into a smile and continued to his office and stood at the threshold, watching her with a slight smile that was doing a number to her insides. Her gaze dropped to her computer screen in an attempt to disguise the light-headedness she was feeling at his unusual reaction.

“Maria?” he questioned, obviously refusing to let her attention fall away from him.

She glanced back up, her pulse upping a notch as she waited for him to speak.

“Could you come in here, please?’

Please? Had he just employed the word ‘please’? Totally disconcerted by his gentle and polite tone, Maria stood to her feet, having a ridiculously hard time balancing on her stilettos this morning. Refusing to stumble, she breathed deep to calm herself, then put one foot in front of the other and walked into his office, hoping she managed not to appear too ungraceful.

As she moved into the room, he shut the door and leaned back against it. His beautiful, chocolate brown eyes ran up and down her body, stalling on her high-heels before running back up to her cleavage, and then finally, lifting to her eyes. “We still playing this game, babe?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Stupid, Maria. He’ll be able to see through that.

A hint of gruff laughter spilled from his throat. “Really?” He took his suit jacket off and tossed it on an empty chair, and even though it was only eight o’clock in the morning, he began rolling up his shirtsleeves with terse, economical movements. He took a step towards her and she took a step back, towards his desk.

When he continued to walk past her, then turned and leaned against the front of his desk, she took a deep breath and waited, trying like hell to get her nerves under control.

His hands fell to his sides and landed on either side of his hips at the edge of the desk. His body language seemed to be saying he was relaxed, but the fact that his fingers were clenching the desk so hard that his knuckles lost color, was telling. Maria wasn’t altogether buying his relaxed stance. “I need to talk to you about something,” he said a bit more gruffly, in a tone she was more used to, although the modulation of his voice turning serious did nothing for her nerves that were still bouncing around.

“What’s that?” she asked, trying to sound as calm as he appeared. Well, at least he appeared calm on the outside; what he was feeling on the inside was anyone’s guess.

“You need to either hire a personal assistant, or choose someone here who can do the job . . . Beth is young but she seems capable and dependable, but it’s your choice.”

The demand sent a knot to her stomach. “Why do I need a personal assistant?”

He studied her with set features, giving her no indication of his thoughts. “Until recently, you’ve always been the assistant, right? Doesn’t it make sense that you’d have one now?”

“I suppose, but I don’t need one.” She liked being in charge; she wasn’t going to deny to herself that she received a thrill from being so completely indispensable.

His brows furrowed into a frown. “You can’t be here twenty-four/seven . . . the hotel needs someone who can run things in your absence.”

“The number of hours I’m gone are negligible, I’m almost always on-site. I don’t think it’s necessary, the employees on the whole are more than capable.”

“There needs to be a designated person in charge when you’re not here,” he came back swiftly.

“I never go anywhere—”

“Well, you’re going to start. Not taking your vacation days isn’t healthy. You need to be able to unwind.”

“I do unwind—I don’t want to be anywhere else. I’m not a big traveler, you know? And we have some of the prettiest beaches in the world, right here. I certainly don’t think we need to get in a big rush—”