Page 42 of Boss of Me

Catching sight of me behind his desk, he slows his steps. My heart pounds into my throat as I stare back at him.

Today he’s wearing a light blue shirt beneath a hand-tailored gray suit that’s obviously very expensive. He looks grumpy, a little scary and a whole lot sexy.

Without taking his eyes off me, he ends his call with a curt “Just get it done.” Then he pulls off the headset, tosses it onto the desk and plows a hand through his gorgeous hair.

I lift an eyebrow at him. “Bad day?”

He scowls. “Been in one fucking meeting after another.”

“Oh.” I watch as he shrugs out of his jacket and comes around the desk to drape the garment over the back of his chair. His tailored shirt clings to his massive chest, and I can tell he’s seriously ripped.

I swallow hard. “Um, I’ll just get out of your?—”

“No. Stay.” He puts his hand on my shoulder, the heat from his fingers burning through my uniform like a hot brand. “Sit. Please.”

I sink back down in the chair, curling my fingers around the padded arms.

He perches a hip on the edge of the desk, the expensive wool of his pants pulling taut across his muscular thighs.

I have to forcibly drag my gaze away. My cheeks have grown embarrassingly warm, and other parts of me as well.

He slowly looks me over, taking in the way my uniform hugs my body. The dress isn’t too short, but I keep my knees pressed together so he can’t see anything I don’t want him to see.

“So what were you doing at my desk?” he murmurs. “Snooping?”

“No! Of course not! I was just?—”

“Relax. I’m only teasing you.” His eyes glitter at me. “I like seeing you in my chair.”

“You do?”

He nods. “You look right at home.”

I grin, leaning back. “It’s a fabulous chair. Super comfortable, excellent back support. An ergonomic dream.”

His lips quirk. “Ergonomic dream?”

“Yeah. Where’d you get it?”

“Had it custom made. I can order one for your room if you want,” he offers. “Can’t have you studying and doing your schoolwork in an uncomfortable chair.”

“Oh, my desk chair is perfect. Seriously. I don’t need a new one. But thanks for—” I break off when I realize that he’s laughing at me. I watch him for a few moments, feeling my lips twitch. “What’s so funny?”

He shakes his head. “I can’t believe we just had an entire conversation about office chairs.”

I grin. “Youstarted it.”

“Indeed.” He grins and folds his arms in front of him, his biceps straining against his shirtsleeves. “That reminds me, if there’s anything you ever need or want for the house, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Really? Anything?”

“Anything.” His grin stretches with a hint of sexual teasing. “Within reason.”

“Yes, Mr. Ransom,” I simper.

He winks at me.

We’re flirting, and God help me, I’m enjoying every delicious moment.