Mistresses: After Hours With The Boss. Maisey Yates
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For a moment, a brief moment, he allowed himself to think of the many ways he could use her. Fantasies that had been on the edge of his consciousness every time she breezed through the office. Fantasies he had not allowed.
He gave them a moment’s time, and then shut the door on them. It was not her body he needed.
“All right, Ms. Harper, for the purposes of keeping the facade, I accept your proposal.”
Her blue eyes widened. “You … what?”
“I have decided that I will marry you.”
PAIGE was pretty sure the floor shook underneath her feet. But Dante didn’t look at all perturbed, and everything appeared to be stable, so maybe the shaking was all internal.
“You … what?”
“I accept. At least on a surface level. At least until the furor in the media dies down.”
“I … Okay,” she said, watching her boss as he stood from his position behind his desk. His movements were methodical, planned and purposeful.
He was always like that. Smooth and unruffled. She had wondered, more than once, what it took to get him to loosen up. What it took to shake that perfect, well-ordered control.
She’d wondered, only a couple of times, if a lover ever managed to do it for him. Loosen his tie, run her fingers through his hair.
Now she knew she had the power to do it. Not in the way a lover would, but by inadvertently leaking a fake engagement to the press.
“Excellent,” he said, his tone clipped. Decisive. “I see no reason why this can’t work.”
“I … Why?”
“Is this not what you want? What you need?”
Her head was spinning. This morning everything in her world had been on the verge of collapse, and now—now it seemed like she might actually be able to keep it all standing. “Well … yes. But let’s be honest. You aren’t exactly known for your accommodating and helpful nature, sorry, so it seems … out of character.”
He bent and picked up the paper from his desk, his dark eyes skimming it. “Can you imagine what the media would say if I backed out? They’re already salivating for the chance to rip me to pieces if I would just give it to them. This article is practically a setup for the following piece where they will gleefully report that I have dropped my subordinate fiancée, who I was likely playing power games with, for my own debauched satisfaction, and ruined her chances of adopting her much-loved child. It would have an even darker angle to it, considering I myself am adopted. I can see that headline now.”
“Well, yes, I can see how that would be … not good. But I’m surprised they just … believed that we were engaged anyway.” Average woman. That was what they’d called her in the paper. And Dante Romani would never be linked with a woman who was average.
In so many ways it was like a bad joke. A cruel high school flashback.
“Been reading stories about me?” he asked, his lips curving into a half smile.
“Well, I mean, I see them,” she said, stuttering. He didn’t need to know that sometimes she looked at pictures of him for a little longer than necessary. It wasn’t like anyone could blame her. She was a woman; he was a stunningly attractive man. But she knew she had no shot with him, ever. And no desire to take one. “But also, we haven’t really been seen together in public, so it seems odd that they would just assume, based on a random tip, that we’re engaged.”
He shrugged. “It sounds like something I would do. Keep a real relationship under wraps. In theory. I haven’t had one, so I wouldn’t know.”
“Right. Yes. I know that.”
“You do read the stories, then.”
Her cheeks heated and she cleared her throat. “That and I have keen powers of observation and … Oh, no!”
“What?”
Paige looked at the clock on Dante’s wall, positioned just above his head. “I have to go pick Ana up. Everyone is probably waiting on me.”
“I’ll come with you,” he said.
“What?” She needed to get away from him for a minute. Or have flustered-angry Dante back. Now that he had a plan he had taken firm control over everything and it was making her feel dazed.
“Well, I am your fiancé now, am I not?”
Paige’s head was swimming, her fingers feeling slightly numb. “I don’t know … are you?”
He nodded once. “Yes. For all intents and purposes.”
“Oookay then.”
“You seem uncertain, Paige,” he said, taking his coat off the peg that was mounted to the wall and opening the door.
Paige scrambled to collect her things from the chair. “I … I’m not, not really. I just don’t know how you went from spitting nails in my office to … agreeing.”
“I’m a man of action. I don’t have time to be indecisive.”
She walked past him and out into the lobby area of his floor. His assistant, Trevor, was positioned behind his desk, his eyes locked on to the both of them.
“Have a nice evening, Mr. Romani,” he said.
“You too, Trevor. You should go home,” Dante said.
“In a bit. So …”
“Oh, yeah,” Paige said. “We’re engaged.”
“You are?” he asked, his expression skeptical.
Paige nodded and looked at Dante who looked … uncharacteristically amused. “Yes,” she said.
He nodded. “Yes.”
“I … didn’t know,” Trevor said.
“I’m a private man,” Dante said. “When it suits me.”
“Apparently,” Trevor said, looking back at his computer screen.
“See you tomorrow,” Dante said. Trevor made a vague nod in acknowledgment.
Paige followed Dante to the elevator and stepped inside when the doors opened. “So … Trevor doesn’t seem thrilled,” she said. Really, she was surprised at the dynamic between Dante and his assistant. Dante was something of a fearsome figure in her mind, and the fact that Trevor hadn’t been fired on the spot for his obvious annoyance with the situation wasn’t exactly what she’d expected.
“Trevor