“Rose, this is Susan Riddlen, an old business associate,” Darius said.
“Old?” She laughed, a fake, grating sound. “It hasn’t been that long, has it?”
He continued. “Susan, my assistant Rose Henshaw.”
She stopped and finally looked at Rose, doing a quick up and down with just her eyes. “I knew it had to be something like that. Everyone at my table had their own ideas. My guess was secretary, but it’s not secretary’s day, is it?” Susan laughed again.
What a bitch.
“Well, that sounds as interesting as fuck,” he said flatly.
She huffed, holding her chest as if taken aback. “I should let you eat.”
He didn’t say anything more, just returned to his meal.
Rose’s stomach was still in knots. Anger, embarrassment, and some sadness at what could never be.
He didn’t request the dessert menu after eating, just the bill. They’d both been quiet and awkward since Susan’s visit at their table. She didn’t think any of this could work out. What Darius needed was a woman who could blend well in his world, and she couldn’t blend.
They walked down the posh yet dim hallway to where the valets brought the vehicles. But he stopped dead midway. She nearly slammed into the back of him.
“I’m sorry about what happened earlier, Rose.”
“What?”
“That bitch with the mouth.”
She shrugged. “Nothing to be sorry about.” Why did she feel stupid, traitorous tears filling her eyes? She couldn’t let ignorant people have so much power over her. After twenty-nine years, she thought she was numb to all this bullshit.
This time, Darius turned her by the shoulder, pressing her back to the wall and pinning her in place. She was taken aback, shocked by their proximity.
“Stop acting like a damn robot. I know you’re hiding your feelings from me. It’s obvious. There’s nothing wrong with being pissed off. I know I was.”
“She’s right. I don’t belong here.”
“Tell me why.” His voice was deep and demanding. Those black eyes intense as he awaited a concrete answer.
It was embarrassing, but the man wanted the whole truth. “I’m not like the women here. I’m living paycheck to paycheck, I’m overweight, and I’m not exactly a Barbie doll, if you haven’t noticed. More than half the women here probably have a cosmetic surgeon on speed dial. That woman’s shoes alone cost more than everything I own.”
Her passion was getting ahead of her logic. She’d screw this up for herself with her big mouth.
He just stared.
Say something, dammit.
“You think I want a plastic woman? Some rich bitch with nothing on her mind but keeping up with the latest fashion trends?”
“I don’t know. I assume that’s what men want. Men like you aren’t interested in women like me.”
Of course, she could dream—she had. Men like Darius Blackwood didn’t sweep big brown girls off their feet and carry them off into the sunset. It was just a fact of life.
“You think I’m that superficial?”
“Attraction is physical. It’s only human nature.”
“Yes, you’re exactly right, Miss Henshaw. Attraction is physical.”
Even he couldn’t deny the fact the women in the office, the restaurant, everywhere in his world, were gorgeous and modelesque. Tall, thin, and perfectly coiffed.
He leaned in, kissing her on the mouth.
Every muscle in her body relaxed as if craving this moment like air. His mouth was soft but thorough. When he pulled back, she could hardly stand upright, her knees weak. She was speechless, too shocked to even process what just happened.
“For your information, Rose, I’m not that fucking shallow. If you must know, I’ve been battling my need to keep professional and wanting to ask you on a real date. You’re exactly what I’m looking for—physically and in everything else that matters. I want a woman with gorgeous curves, and until now, I didn’t realize how much I want a mocha-skinned beauty exactly like you.”
She was unable to form words.
Was she going to wake up at any minute, her alarm pulling her out of sleep?
****
What had he done?
Darius should have been mortified by that kiss, but he wasn’t. It felt right. He’d been wanting to do that ever since he first met Rose on the “take your kids to work” day. Once she started putting herself down, he couldn’t stand it another second. Not when she made his dick hard just by existing.
She was a bombshell, with an ass that wouldn’t quit and tits he dreamed about when alone at night. He wasn’t the type of man who wanted thin or athletic women. He craved curves, the more, the better. And Rose was exceptionally beautiful without even realizing it. He couldn’t stand conceited women glued to a mirror and expecting men to jump hoops for them.
But now what?
She wasn’t saying a thing. Had he acted inappropriately? He was her boss, after all. At the moment, he swore they were on the same page, an undeniable attraction growing between them. Had he been wrong all along? Did she see him as an old, inappropriate bastard?