Page 6

A muscle in his jaw tightens as his mask slips back in place.

How do I know so much about him already?

He nods and touches my arm to guide me away.

I gasp at the spark of electricity his touch brings.

It has to be this gorgeous dark-gray carpet.

He drops his hand, and I curse myself for reacting.

But I dutifully follow him to Conference Room B—according to the sign next to the door.

Right before we reach our destination, he pivots, grabbing my arm right above the elbow and pulling me in another direction.

“What are you doing?” I ask in a low voice. “Where are we going?”

“We need to talk.” He leads me down another hallway and into a large office.

It’s bigger than my kitchen and even has a small bar.

Everything from the crystal lights over my head to the luxurious gray carpet under my feet screams money.

Beyond the large black masculine desk are wall-to-wall windows.

I gasp and move closer. The St. Louis skyline is on display like a piece of art. The arch gleams majestically over tall buildings with the lazy Mississippi River in the background. It’s stunning.

And anything unpleasant or uncomfortable is magically erased. No broken beer bottles or trash littering the streets. No people, broken by life and circumstances, litter the parks.

This high up, it’s easily hidden. Easily forgotten.

I absently register the click of the door shutting, and then Mr. Darian stands between me and the view. I stare up at him. This new view is just as stunning.

Is he also an illusion?

“Sit.”

His sharp tone breaks through my musings, and I sit.

I’m not his dog or pet, something for him to order around.

I should be humiliated by his treatment.

His disregard for my feelings. And I am.

But my body doesn’t get the memo. I place my hands in my lap to cover the evidence.

The room air conditioning works well but not enough to cool me down.

What is wrong with me? I’ve never reacted this intensely to a guy.

Is my body punishing me for waiting so long?

The confusion is back in his eyes, but only for a second. “Before we go in there, we need to be on the same page, Canyon.”

“Of course, Wade.”

He glares, and the hair on my arm stands up as the molten lava of that heated look burns through my entire body. “This is the problem.” His voice drops a few sexy decibels. “You can’t call me by my first name. Not here. And you need to stop challenging me every step of the way.”

I lower my head, sufficiently chastised. Except I don’t regret any of it. I peek at him through my lashes. “I thought you liked it.” Oh God. Why did I say that? It’s like I no longer have control.

Remember your goal, Canyon . Don’t get fired . Save your brother . And your home .

But none of that matters when he leans closer. “I’m your boss. Act like it.”

I nod instinctually. Every nerve in my body reacts to his words and the sharp command in his voice. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth as I try to focus on anything other than his strong forearms gripping my chair. The heat of his body.

This is so wrong.

But my body disagrees, overruling my brain and aching for something I shouldn’t want. My dick is uncomfortably hard, but it’s more than that. There’s a connection between us. Like I’ve found something I’d been missing.

Does he feel it too?

“Do you understand, Canyon?” he asks in that commanding tone. “I demand respect from my employees, and you can’t talk to me like that…not around others.”

My eyes dart to his face. Does that mean I can when we’re alone? Not the point right now. I nod and then nod again, hating this weird need to please him. His look tells me I need to stop nodding. I stop. But I can’t stop the questions in my eyes.

He straightens and adjusts his tie. “What? Am I— Just say it.”

“Noth—” I cough. Clearing my throat, I try again. “Nothing.” But his eyes narrow. Does he trust anyone? And I can’t stand it, so I go ahead and embarrass myself. “I just…I like it when you boss me around.” I clasp my hands tight in my lap. Still trying to hide my inappropriate reaction.

My movement, and possibly my words, draw his gaze to the place I least want it at this moment. He sucks in a breath. “Jesus. Are you trying to get me fired?” he asks in a strangled voice. Then his eyes widen, and he steps back. “Is that what this is?”

“What? No. You think I’m enjoying this?”

He walks around his desk and sits, rubbing his face.

“We need to get through the next twenty minutes without any issues. No fidgeting. No—” He waves his hand, gesturing to all of me.

“Answer questions as minimally as possible. You’re here because River ran his ideas by you, and you’re more than capable of assisting with this retreat in his absence. He had a family emergency?—”

“I’m his family.”

He slaps his hands on his desk. “You can’t interrupt?—”

“Even when your idea is stupid?”

His eyes shut, and I imagine he’s counting to ten. Or possibly a thousand? His eyes pop open and he almost smiles. “Especially when my ideas are stupid, Canyon. But I get your point.” He sighs. “What do you suggest?”

And damn, Mr. Darian, asking my opinion? It’s like that first hit of morphine after surgery. “River’s best friend Cruz is his former teammate. He used to play baseball.” I wave my hand. Why did I say that? It’s not relevant. “If Cruz needed him for any reason, River would drop everything.”

He rubs his knuckles over his jaw as he thinks. And I can’t believe I’m jealous of knuckles.

Stop messing this up, Canyon.

“Okay. This can work. River got my permission, and you agreed to take his place.”

Does he even realize what he’s proposing? If he tells them he okayed River’s time off, he can’t fire him later for leaving.

But would he have fired him? I’m not sure anymore.

“Sounds good.”

“Great.” He stands and strides over to the door. “Let’s get this over with.”

I stand but don’t follow. “I still have questions.”

When he turns, I expect him to snap, but he just looks tired. “Can it wait?”

“It’s relevant.”

“Fine, whatever.” He checks his watch and taps. I realize it’s not just a watch. His eyes return to me, and he folds his arms across his chest. “Go ahead, Mr. Drake. Ask your question.”

I hate that we’re back to Mr. Drake instead of Canyon, but I get it. I push away my nerves and ask my question. “What’s the real reason I’m standing in for River?”

“This again?” he asks with a scowl.

I ignore his attitude. “Not counting River, am I the only gay person you know?”