Only You (Sweet Torment 2)

“I told you that kids aren’t my thing.”

“You did great though. Lyssa apparently is still talking about you.” If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought I saw a glimmer of pride in Leo’s eyes. I thought of the way he casually defended me to his sister and it made something deep in my chest feel a little less empty.

“Well, it’s obvious Regan isn’t my biggest fan.” It was also obvious I didn’t belong in Leo’s world. What Regan thought of me shouldn’t matter. Yet, for some reason, it did. As if I wanted her—Leo’s family—to like me.

“Are you going to do what I asked?” Leo said with a charming smile and change of subject. He eyed the garment bag and I knew he was calling my bluff. Knew he was trying to see just how professional I could stay, like I had assured him when he hired me. But my stupid feet wouldn’t move and my body begged for one touch. One taste. Anything to just feel his skin against mine.

“On my bed, please,” he rasped, and I licked my lips, subtly shifting to my tiptoes, slowly closing the few inches between us . . . “The tux I mean.”

I blinked twice and realized I had been caught. Well, almost caught, wanting Leo. I needed to get out of there, and away from him, quickly. I turned and opened the bedroom door and made my way in, heading straight to the bed to lay the tux down, trying not to look around too much. Of course the room was huge. A bathroom was off to the left and a massive bed was draped in creams and grays ranging from coal to rain cloud.

I quickly set the bag flat on the bed and turned to leave. Leo was right behind me.

“Where’s your dress?” he asked.

“Pardon?”

“I need you to accompany me to the event tonight.”

My mind scrambled. In the past week, I’d worked on everything from flight arrangements for his cousin coming in to prepping for the event. Never once was my attendance mentioned.

Don’t get me wrong, I would have loved to meet some of the men Leo worked with. Maybe get in some face time and hopefully make a play for the future. Problem was, Leo was a few feet away and I could still feel his heat. Smell his cologne. I had almost just kissed him a moment ago, and being within range of the bed was a bad idea. I needed space from the shipping mogul. Not a night with champagne and closeness.

“Paige.” The way he said my name made my gaze snap to his. “I need you with me tonight.”

Maybe I imagined desire dripping from his words, but it still felt nice. Even if it wasn’t real. Because I was not only staring down the one man who made me hot from the inside out, but who put more trust in me than anyone else ever had. And that was the kicker that made every ounce of my being want to hug him close.

The way shadows played over his face reminded me of the night at the bar. How he looked half like a wild man and half like an angel. The starkness between his bright-sky eyes and dark features was unnerving.

Bad idea! My brain screamed. If I was already feeling the way I had the night at the bar, that meant the evening would likely end in the same way. Or, worse, end with me once again getting caught up with a man, reaching out for him, and getting rejected. Not smart when trying to keep this job for longer than one night.

“It’s short notice and—”

“Here.” Leo walked to one of the doors and revealed a walk-in closet. “There are plenty of dresses in here ranging in size.”

My mouth dropped. I looked inside and sure enough, there was a rack o

f just women’s clothes and some seriously fancy gowns. The heat that had been creeping up was iced out by the fact that Leo was no stranger to having women. Not that I was surprised, but gowns on hand? Gowns, which judging by the look of them, were made more for playboy bunnies than someone with my shorter frame.

At least this wakeup call was the flash of chilly water I needed to get back to reality. I was Leo’s assistant. That was it. Because if I started looking at myself as anything else, including a woman, I’d simply be one of many and get nowhere.

This is business, I mentally chanted. While the smart business decision would be to go to the event and mingle with the elite, my ego was pissed and I felt insulted that he thought I’d actually wear some other skank’s dress.

“I’ll pass,” I said and walked out of the bedroom.

“Pass?” Leo followed me. “Do I need to pull out a copy of your job description?”

I rested my hand on the doorknob. Somewhere between my pride and my logic, I was struggling with this situation. Professionally it was a great opportunity. Yet for some reason, after seeing those dresses, I felt less confident than I had a moment ago. But that shouldn’t matter. Leo was my boss. The fling we had was irrelevant, as was how I felt.

A fact my mind and body seemed to have a hard time understanding. Something warm and uncomfortable bubbled low in my throat and stung my lips. Something like . . . jealousy.

And that notion pissed me off even more.

“I thought you wanted my recommendation, Red?”

“I do.”

“Wasn’t that you in my office a few weeks ago assuring me you’d do anything, professionally of course”—he winked—“that I needed?”