Page 21 of Claimed By the Boss

I cut him off quickly. “I’m not interested.”

The smile drops. “You don’t have to be rude.”

“I’m not,” I say, holding his gaze. “I’m being clear.”

For a second, he just stares at me. Then he snorts like I’ve amused him and turns away without another word.

I watch him walk back to his desk before I turn and continue to the elevator. My hands shake a little as I type in the code the receptionist gave me. The doors slide open, smooth and silent, and I step inside.

As the elevator climbs, I try to shake off the encounter. Guys like Rick always show up eventually, especially in the tech space. Their small-minded brains can’t handle that a woman could be as smart, if not smarter, than they are. Still, it’s grating and ridiculous. It makes my skin crawl.

Worst of all, though, I can’t help but wonder if he’s right. Did Damien only hire me because he wants to sleep with me? The interview was so short, and I’m sure I didn’t imagine the flirtation between us at the restaurant.

As horrible as it may sound, I wouldn’t turn him down if he propositioned me. I don’t think I could. My body already reacts so strongly to him. Just the thought of being alone with him in his office makes my heart flutter and my face flush.

The elevator opens directly into a quiet foyer. His assistant, Andrea, is seated behind a sleek desk just outside Damien’s office. Her hands fly over her keyboard, but she looks up when I approach.

“He’s ready for you,” she says, standing to open the door for me.

“Thanks,” I murmur.

I step into his office, and the door clicks shut behind me.

He’s at his desk, impossibly composed. The city sprawls behind him through massive windows, and I can’t help but stare. His eyes are on me, though, sharp and assessing.

“Ms. Taylor.”

“Mr. Morozov.”

He gestures to the seat across from him, and I sit, smoothing my skirt even though it doesn’t need adjusting.

For a few seconds, he just watches me.

I can feel my pulse in my throat.

“Is everything all right?” he asks.

“Yes,” I say quickly. Then I hesitate. “Actually…”

His expression shifts almost imperceptibly. A flicker of interest. Maybe concern.

I square my shoulders. I might as well just get it out there and be honest.

“One of the developers, Rick, said something inappropriate on my way up here.”

His jaw tightens, but his tone doesn’t change. “Inappropriate how?”

“He implied I was hired for my looks,” I say carefully. “And when I said I had a meeting with you, he made a few lewd suggestions.”

Damien’s hands are still folded neatly on the desk, but I see the tension in the way his fingers press together. His voice stays calm when he speaks again, only slightly colder.

“What’s his last name?”

“I don’t know,” I admit. “I didn’t want to make it a thing.”

“It’s already a thing,” he says.

“I handled it,” I say quickly.