“I never really considered it before,” he utters, frowning. “I’ve always had women. Never a man. The idea does intrigue me, though.”
I discreetly try to adjust my dick in my slacks. This man doesn’t even realize his effect on me. If he’s not just talking about the job, then maybe he’s realizing he might be into more than women. It’s possible he’s into me.
“Women are great,” I tell him. “I’m glad you’re taking a chance on a man, though. I promise I won’t disappoint. I’m eager to please.”
His lips tug on one side, like he might actually smile. “I like that.”
We remain in silence, the air laced with attraction and curiosity, which I hope isn’t one-sided on my part.
“Listen,” I utter, leaning forward. “I’m thrilled to work at this magazine. I know I can do a great job. I practically grew up in the industry.”
His ice sculpted features melt into something softer. I crave to crawl over his desk, straddle his waist, and touch the expression on his face.
“Perhaps you can teach me a thing or two then, huh?” His brow lifts in question.
“I’ve read your bio. You made all this,” I say with a wave of my hand, “into a household name. You’re incredibly savvy when it comes to the biz.” I flash him a wink. “But I’m still sure I could teach you something.”
He burns his blue-gray stare into me, cutting holes into my flesh and probing inside. Below the surface of my playfulness is an anxiety that lurks. The uncertainty of my future. I lived for my parents’ magazine, and with it gone, I’m lost, trying to find my way again.
“How old are you?” he asks in a raspy voice.
“Eighteen.”
He clenches his jaw, swiveling around in his chair to face the window. “Young. No college?”
Shame heats my cheeks. “It wasn’t in the plan, though now I wonder if I should have gone in case my plans fell through, because they totally did.” I let loose a sigh. “I didn’t grow up dreaming of being an assistant to the owner of New York’s most successful magazine. I had dreams of taking over my parents’ magazine.”
His chair spins around so fast, the air nearly knocks his file from the desk. I place a hand on it to keep it from hitting the floor.
“Are you spying on me? To learn insider secrets?” he demands, fury morphing his handsome features.
Feeling defensive, I growl back at him. “No, Mr. Frost. You offered them more money than they could refuse to buy their magazine. They sold to you and after you mined all their clients, it went to the bottom of your trash bin along with all the other competition you cannibalized.”
His features grow expressionless, hiding whatever he’s feeling. I take the time to study his gorgeous face. Essentially, he’s an enemy to me, but I can’t deny the attraction I have toward him. There’s an intensity about Adrian Frost that sucks me in. I want to inhale him and taste him and touch him.
“It’s snowing.” He absently rubs at his neck. “When you leave, be careful.”
“Leave where?” I choke out, hating the sting in my eyes.
“Home? Your new job? I don’t know.”
I shake my head, biting on my lip hard so I don’t cry. When Mom and Dad told me they sold the magazine without giving me a chance to try and get a loan to buy it from them, I cried. Like a child. Not in front of them, of course, because I could tell they felt guilty. No, I saved all my gut-wrenching tears for when I got to my room.
“Mr. Moore,” he says softly, his brows pinching together. “I’m sorry—”
“Please,” I beg. “Give me a chance to prove myself.”
“It’s clear you have animosity toward me for the transaction that took place—”
“Transaction?” My voice is shrill. “You took my future from me.”
A muscle in his jaw ticks and his eyes narrow.
“I’ll be serious. I can do this job better than anyone you could ever find. You’re paying me pennies compared to my worth.” I reach over the desk, grabbing his large, firm hand. “Let me show you how good I can be for you.”
His face turns crimson again, but he makes no moves to extricate his hand from mine. As much as I’d love to flirt with him and taunt him about what are clearly confusing feelings for him, getting this job is more important.
“I’m going to regret this,” he grumbles to himself.
I squeeze his hand. “No, you won’t. I promise.”
Finally, he slowly pulls his hand from mine, as though he doesn’t really want to. We’ve crossed the boundaries for normal boss and employee relationships, which has me wondering just how hard I’m going to fall for this man.
Because I will.
Nothing has ever mattered to me except the magazine. No boyfriends or friends or hobbies. Just the success I knew I could achieve. So for me to jeopardize the thing I love most by touching my boss and holding on to his hand and flirting, it’s saying something.