Page 14 of Darkness Tempt Me (Bloody Desires #7)
Chapter twelve
Peyton
I t only takes five minutes for me to cancel all of today’s meetings.
The very same meetings I set up just moments before.
Mavik’s files, including all the notes I’d started preparing for the marketing team, sit on the edge of my desk.
This time, I don’t bother rescheduling anything.
Who knows how long it will take Mavik to handle whatever needs to be handled?
If I’m to believe anything Hunter said during the phone call, then this is an emergency.
Fuck.
The phone call. Why the hell did I have to listen in?
I groan. I know why. After being so damn discombobulated about everything this morning, my emotions were running high. I let my jealousy of Mavik and Hunter’s relationship get to me. Not that it’s an excuse, but I have no one to blame but myself. Let’s just hope it doesn’t cost me my job.
Mavik sits behind his desk, a commanding king sitting on his throne. As his assistant, naturally, I have the best view into his office. Behind him, tall floor-to-ceiling windows display the city of New Vernon far below, and despite the fall chill outside, sunlight breaks through the stormy clouds.
I bite my lip, hating the guilt swirling through my stomach. Should I go in there and apologize?
The decision is taken out of my hands when Mavik stands and smooths down his tie with a sweep of his hand.
He makes his way out of his office, jaw flexing.
As soon as our gazes meet, I want to shrink into my chair and let the ground swallow me whole.
I stare blankly at my tablet in my lap, not really seeing a thing.
His intense gaze feels like it’s trying to burn me alive. Crap. Crap. Crap. I’m in so much trouble.
“Sir,” I whisper when he approaches my desk. My skin prickles under his full attention.
He doesn’t reply, just stands there, staring.
I manage to lift my head and drag my eyes up his body and that fine, tailored suit before settling on his striking brown gaze.
You’d think the silence should be awkward, and I guess it is, since I feel guilty as hell for eavesdropping, but there’s something else there.
Something dangerous and charged.
“Why did you listen in on my call?”
My face burns hot. How the hell am I supposed to admit that I was jealous? False answers flicker through my mind so quickly, I’m almost tempted to grab one and run with it. But I don’t want to lie. Embarrassment turns to anger.
Why should I be embarrassed?
I lift my head in defiance and narrow my eyes.
“Mr. Rose has no business telling me to cancel your meetings. I apologize for listening in. I shouldn’t have done that,” I say, rebellion strengthening my voice.
“But he isn’t my boss, and he has no right to command me to do anything. I take orders only from you, sir.”
The words just tumble out of my mouth without a second thought. It isn’t until the silence stretches and I replay them in my head do I realize how they sound. Something dangerous flashes in his eyes, and his anger ebbs, momentarily replaced with a wicked smirk.
“Are you saying that you’re mine to command, Peyton?”
My lips part in shock and humiliation. Damn.
He continues just staring me down, patiently waiting for my answer.
Someone fucking pinch me. Everything we’ve said in the last minute should sound like a script from some fantasy porn, but I swear, in his deep rumbling voice, it just sounds hot.
Something like shame blends together with undeniable arousal.
I squirm in my seat, trying my hardest not to readjust my pants and give myself away.
Clearing my throat, I refocus on the subject matter.
“Like I said, Mr. Rose is not my boss. I answer only to you. You told me to clear your agenda for today, and now it’s free.
You can go and enjoy your day with Hunter. ”
Mavik’s smile widens. “You wear your emotions so prettily, Pey.”
I blink up at him, trying to process his words.
“You’re right. Hunter has no right to cancel my meetings, especially when he doesn’t know what they are or who they’re with.
For example, if he were to try to cancel my meeting with Daniel Sinclair, then there would be hell to pay,” he says.
“Regardless, Hunt knows me well and had the right to assume that today is an exception to the rule.”
“Sir?” I say, confusion breaking through my arousal. “What’s your relationship with Mr. Rose?”
That damn smirk returns, and I instantly know he isn’t going to answer me.
The mask he always wears slips back into place.
I’m no longer looking at Mavik, the boss I’ve been crushing on for the past three years.
Rather, I’m staring at Mavik Blackwood, the man who can dominate a boardroom and easily charm investors into handing over their checkbooks.
He’s so damn intimidating like this, and that intensity is just as scary as it is thrilling.
It takes me a few more moments to realize that he’s just staring at me.
“Never mind, sir. I shouldn’t ask personal questions like tha—”
“Come with me,” he blurts. Nerves flash quickly across his stoic face, those hard lines softening for just a moment.
He looks so damn vulnerable, appearing younger than his thirty-six years. It’s a new look for him, and because of it, I agree blindly without even asking any questions. Only when we’re in the car and Mavik nervously drums the steering wheel does the thought occur to me.
Why would a visit with Hunter Rose have this type of effect on Mavik Blackwood?