Ruined (Ethan Frost 1)

“She tripped, banged against the railway. Nearly fell down the stairs. ” Ethan speaks over me, and it gets my back up all over again. I spent most of my life being ignored by my family. No way am I going to put up with it from him, too. He might be my boss three times removed, but the vibes rolling off him today don’t feel like employer-employee to me, any more than the ones yesterday did.

They must not feel that way to Jose, either, because in the course of twenty minutes he’s gone from teasingly calling me “new girl” to calling me “Ms. Girard” in the same formal tone he uses when he speaks to Ethan.

The difference sets my teeth on edge, so much so that when he asks, “Should I call for a doctor?” I all but shout at him.

“No, I don’t need a doctor! I have a bruise. It’s no big deal. ” I make a show of glancing at my watch. “I also have a meeting that starts in ten minutes that I do not want to be late for. ”

My mentor had explained to me that Tuesday mornings are when the new assignments get divvied up to the interns. If you want a good one, you need to be there early, ready to present your case. Unfortunately, at the rate these two are moving, I’ll probably end up researching the most boring, nastiest contract in the bunch. So not what I had planned for my first week at my dream job.

“Jose. ” That’s all Ethan says, but the security guard immediately turns and heads toward the cafeteria at a jog.

Tired of biting my tongue, I turn toward Ethan with an exasperated sigh. “Really! Are you serious with this?”

“I’m very serious. The health of my employees is important to me. ”

Once again he rests his hand on my lower back and propels me forward. This time it’s into the small room to the side of the security desk. Inside is one security guard and a ton of monitors that show different areas of the property. “Give us a minute, will you, Danny?”

“Sure, Mr. Frost. ” He gets up right away but eyes me curiously as he heads for the door.

At the rate things are going, I can’t begin to imagine what gossip will be circulating about me by lunchtime. Just the thought makes me crazy. I came all the way to California for school three years ago to get away from the gossip about me and another rich guy. The last thing I want is to go through all that again.

I close my eyes, shake my head. I can’t believe this. I just can’t believe it. I wanted so badly to fit in here, to find a place for myself. I’d even hoped that maybe I could return here once I’d graduated, to continue interning while I worked my way through law school. Because of my family—my brother—intellectual property law in the tech world is a subject that’s very important to me. And I know that if I keep my grades up and do as well in law school as I plan to, I’ll be able to find a job at any number of places. But, again, Frost Industries is one of the most exciting companies to work for in the world. Being here is a dream come true, and I cannot believe Ethan Frost himself is screwing that up for me.

Determined to get him to stop this thing—whatever it is—before it gets even more out of hand, I clear my throat. Prepare my arguments. When I finally feel like I’m ready to speak, I say, “Mr. Frost. ”

He just looks at me, strokes his fingers over the back of my hand. I shiver despite myself. His touch is light, delicate even—as if he’s afraid he might break me. But there’s a heat that comes with his touch, too. One that confuses me, makes me stumble over my own thoughts. “Call me Ethan. ”

“Mr. Frost, I—”

“Ethan. ”

I don’t know why this is so important to him, but it is. Obviously. Still, I know if I give in—if I call him by his given name—it will shift things between us. Hand him some kind of power over me, some kind of right to what I say or do, and I’m not okay with that. I think back to the cafeteria yesterday, to that damn blueberry smoothie, and I promise myself that this time I won’t do as he asks.

“Mr. Frost, I really need to get to work. I appreciate your concern, but it’s unnecessary. And, frankly, it’s embarrassing. ”

At first he looks like he’s going to argue with the fact that I still haven’t used his given name, but then he gets distracted by what I’ve said. “My attention embarrasses you?”

“Well, yeah. Obviously. ” I gesture to the empty room around us. “Unless commandeering security booths so that you can talk to your female employees is something you do every day—”

“It’s not. ”

“Then this is extremely embarrassing. Everyone in that lobby was staring at me because you were with me. You were touching me. ”

He raises a brow. “A hand at your back is simple courtesy. ”

“No,” I correct him, because I’m not crazy and I won’t let him make me feel that I am. “Offering your arm is simple courtesy. Your hand on my lower back is something else entirely. ”

“Really?” He smiles at me, just a subtle turning up of his lips that shouldn’t raise my blood pressure or send shivers down my spine. Somehow it does both. “What is it, then?”

“What is…what?” I stumble over the words a little as I try to get my brain cells back in working order.

“My hand on your back. If it isn’t courtesy, what is it?”

Intimacy. The word is right there on my lips, and I nearly say it. Nearly blurt it out. But I can’t, because it’s crazy to think such a thing, let alone say it. Crazier still to want it. Which I don’t, I assure myself. I never have.

Except I feel strangely bereft now that he has let go of my hand. It’s an odd feeling, and one I don’t like. I take a step back, two, and I can tell from the way he narrows his eyes that he’s not happy with my sudden retreat. But before he can say anything, the door slams open. Jose stands there, a grin on his face and a large bag of ice in his hand.

Ethan walks over to take the ice from him, and I shudder in relief. I feel like a prisoner who’s just been granted a stay of execution—relieved but still unsteady, because I know it can be taken away at any moment.