Tempted by the Billionaire (Forbidden Confessions 9)

It will all wait. “No, sir. Tell me how I can help you.”

“All right. I need updates on the Dow’s current numbers, as well as the ASX and Hang Seng futures. Focus on tech and biotech. Look for any movers and shakers out to an early rise, along with anything falling ahead of the open.”

“Sure.” These are my areas of interest, too. I’m not surprised Mr. Force knows the future will be won in these two fields.

“I need reports. Index them both alphabetically and by percentage of change in stock price. The Wi-Fi password is taped to the bottom of the sliding drawer, under the keyboard in my office. Feel free to hook up to it. You’ll see my printer on the network.”

I pause. He doesn’t care about my problems. Nor should he. But I can’t accomplish what he wants me to with the tools I brought.

“Do you have another computer in the house I could borrow? I wouldn’t presume to use yours—”

“You don’t have one?”

I do…but I hardly count the decade-old machine I bought off a former classmate years ago. “Not with me.”

He gives me an absent nod, then reaches for his device again, shoots out another text, then darkens his phone. “You’ll have one within the hour for your use. Until that arrives, are you able to bring me some lunch?”

“Of course, sir.”

He asks for a sandwich and raw veggies, which I’m happy to bring him, along with a cold bottle of water. I’m starving since I haven’t eaten all day, but he didn’t invite me to eat, and he’s waiting. This job is more important than a couple of meals.

Ignoring my rumbling stomach, I take his lunch up to him, then set it on a tray not far from his bedside. Frowning, I set his plate down and lift the tray beside him, swinging the table over his legs. Hades raises his head and eyes me, decides I’m no threat, then drifts off again.

“This looks good. Thank you.”

I nod. “If your housekeeper is on vacation, who’s been taking care of you?”

“My previous assistant.”

“When did she quit?”

“Last night about six o’clock.”

What was more important on a Sunday evening than taking care of a healing man who has no one else? “Was she insisting on going to a family dinner? A church service?”

“A hot date with one of my junior executives.”

“Seriously? Did you threaten to fire her if she left?”

“No. She said she was done tolerating my arrogant, demanding ass. So I relieved her of her duty.”

If she’d said that, I would have, too. “I’m not interested in dating any of your junior executives, sir. That’s a promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that—at least until I’m on my feet and back in the office.” He unscrews the bottle of water.

I feel awkward hovering over him. “Would you like privacy to finish?”

Mr. Force doesn’t answer right away, and my stomach chooses that moment to protest its empty state. “When was the last time you ate?”

Lying isn’t worth it, especially since I’m sure he can see straight through me. “Last night.”

Slowly, he sets his water bottle down and—there’s no other word for it—glares at me. “Are you skipping meals in some unwarranted attempt at a diet?”

“No.”

His expression relaxes. I can’t say it softens; I’m not sure that’s possible. “Make yourself some lunch. Help yourself to whatever’s in the kitchen. If you don’t see something you need, make a list. I’ll have it taken care of.”

He knows I’m hungry and he probably knows I’m broke. It’s humiliating, but if I refuse him, I might be out of my dream job. Besides, dented pride is better than starvation. “Thank you. When would you like me back upstairs, sir?”

He glances at the clock on his nightstand. “Forty-five minutes. Your new things should arrive by then, so we can dive into work.”

“I’ll be back.” I head out his bedroom door, determined not to glance over my shoulder at him, despite the fact I feel his stare all over me.

“While you’re down there, find something you wouldn’t mind cooking for dinner. I’m bored with takeout.”

I was hoping I’d get a chance to cook in his amazing kitchen. “Of course. Any particular allergies, dislikes, or diet I should follow?”

“I hate cabbage and beets. Beyond that, I’ll leave it up to you.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Excellent. When you come back, I’ll have more questions for you.”

No surprise there. “Looking forward to them, sir.”

As I exit the bedroom, my gaze lingers on him far longer than it should, almost as if his commanding presence compels me. When I make it into the hall, I let out a pent-up breath.

Could I really work for Chad Force and not make a fool of myself? He’s been all business, and I’ve wondered more than once what it would be like to get naked and share his bed.