Page 91 of Dancing with the Devil

“What am I going to do with you, Nirah Joy?” he rhetorically asked, and I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Who were you talking to?”

“It was just work,” he vaguely answered, and I hummed in response, averting his eyes. He took my face in his hands,making me look up at him. “There’s a problem at work, and they wanted me to come in tonight.”

“Oh,” I softly said. “Okay,” I nodded.

“But,” he paused and scooped me up bridal style. “I sent Logan to deal with it. I told them that I couldn’t make it, because if I left my fiancée for a second time she’d come up with a brand new, creative insult and my ego can’t take any more hits.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “You’re learning. I like it,” I playfully winked at him.

CHAPTER 19

Nirah

THE ELEVATOR DINGED, and I stepped out.

I opened his office door, and he sat behind his desk, eyes glued to his computer.

I closed the door behind myself, and with an irritated expression, his eyes shot up, and a chill ran down my spine.Damn.

His face softened as he saw me, and he smiled. Right as he was about to get up, I stopped him. “Uh!” I put my finger up. “I’m here for business. Well, sort of,” I said, walking over to his desk.

He sat back down—confused—and I took the seat in front of him. “This isnota personal visit.”

He slowly nodded in understanding and tried not to smile in amusement. “That’s okay, but do you have to sit that far?”

I looked down at my lap, then the desk, then up at him.

“I’m right here,” I said, and he slightly tilted his head to the side. “Fine,” I stood up. “But, if I sit any closer, do you promise to listen, no questions asked?”

“Yes,” he nodded and moved his chair back. “No questions asked.”

I stepped in front of him but lifted myself up, plopping onto his desk.

He dropped his shoulders, moving his chair forward so that his body was perfectly positioned between my legs. He lifted my right leg, resting it on his shoulder. “What are you doing?” I suspiciously narrowed my eyes at him.

“Waiting for my fiancée to finally tell me why she’s here,” he said, kissing my knee and up the inside of my thigh.

“Slow down,” I stopped him with my four fingers pressed to his forehead. “We have to talk about our upcoming wedding.”

“I’m all ears,” he continued to kiss my inner thigh.

“I want my wedding to take place on June 16.”

“Isn’t that two months away?” he asked, looking up at me as I dug my planner out of my purse.

“No questions asked,” I reminded him, and he nodded, going back to kissing my thigh. “Also, I need to know what your favorite flowers are,” I clicked my pen, looking down at the page.

“I don’t have a favorite flower,” he shook his head, his lips barely leaving my thigh.

“Well, you’re going to need one by tonight.”

“Why do I need a favorite flower?” he asked, utterly confused, and my hand stopped mid writing.

“Are you asking me a question?” I shot back, my tone laced with warning, and his mouth clamped shut.

“No ma’am,” he quickly answered before kissing further up my thigh.