Breathe You In (Sweet Torment 1)

“And a meeting. We need to go over this weekend’s fundraiser with my staff.”

“I can’t,” I said through clenched teeth. “I have a lot to do around here.”

“Oh no, it’s okay.” Marcy clapped her hands together. “Don’t worry about coming back today. You just worry about the governor’s fundraiser. We have everything covered here.”

I tried really hard not to glare at Roman in front of my boss. She was all too happy to concede to his every wish, which was obviously why he’d come down here in the first place.

“Thank you, Marcy. I’ll have my secretary send over my itinerary for Amy so you’ll know which days she’ll be absent.”

“Perfect,” Marcy smiled.

“Are you sure?” I asked her.

“Absolutely,” she said.

There was something genuine in her eyes that made it hard for me to fight with her. Of course, Roman had just fought a battle for me, one I hadn’t wanted in the first place. I liked my job. I wanted to be here.

I grabbed my purse and jacket. Roman held his hand out to me and I took it, hating how warm and comforting it was. Hating how my mind instantly shot to a few nights ago, remembering the way his touch had felt on my skin. How he’d gripped my hips…pulled my hair…

“Something on your mind?” Roman breathed in my ear as he steered me out of the office, everyone staring as we went.

“Yes,” I mumbled, keeping my eyes down as we made our way out of the building.

“I’d love to hear what thoughts have you blushing.”

I wanted to slap my hands over my cheeks, but it was too late. Instead, I went with, “Nothing I care to share.”

“I see,” he said.

We walked down the steps to a black car, and he opened the back passenger door for me.

“Perhaps you’re thinking of something I’ve already had the pleasure of experiencing?”

My gaze shot to his. I was pretty certain his job description didn’t include being a mind reader, but it was still hard to wa

rd off the mortification.

“I…I wasn’t—”

“Don’t attempt to lie to my face, Miss Underwood.” He moved closer, one hand still resting on the open car door. “Please.”

He motioned for me to get in. I did, and he closed the door, then walked around the car and got in on the other side. There was privacy glass between us and the driver, and I suddenly felt too aware of, and too close to, the imposing governor.

I needed to find my strength. Tell him how I felt.

I swiveled to face him. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“I told you, Amy, if you won’t come to me, then I’ll come to you.” He glanced over at me, but remained facing forward.

“But I can’t just drop everything whenever you want. I have grant proposals to write and commitments to keep. Believe it or not, I work hard at my job.”

“Entry-level job,” he clarified.

Fire raged through every vein and my teeth nearly chipped from grinding so hard.

“Yes. Which is why I need to be at my entry-level job so that I can get the one promotion opening up soon.”

“And my presence just sped that along. You’re welcome.” He still faced forward, casual and calm, as all his high-class entitlement suffocated me.