Page 11 of Forbidden Billionaire (Titans #7)

Chapter Seven

Seraphina

Damn you.

Blackwell knows me far too well. Knows exactly how to push every button I swore I’d protect.

And despite everything he did to me—the betrayal, the humiliation, the years I spent scraping the bottom—there’s still a piece of me drawn to his magnetism like a moth begging to be burned.

“I…I have work to do.” Desperate to escape, I move toward the door.

“Your first stop is HR.”

Without responding, I escape, needing the distance from him.

Two minutes with him is long enough to make me question everything I think I know.

He unnerves me, making me lie to myself the way only a woman hungry for both food and a taste of her old power can.

Still, every instinct screams at me to tell him no.

The man is all but waving a red flag in my face. And the truth is, if I had eaten anything today, maybe I wouldn’t be considering it.

After my happy hour outing with Lila, I’d had a piece of dried out, leftover pizza at home, followed by another glass of wine that I probably didn’t need.

And since I’d overslept, I barely had enough time to pull on my hated maid’s uniform and dash out the door.

As I prepare to shut the door between us for some much-needed privacy, his voice stops me.

“We can consider it part of your onboarding process.”

The man is a master at manipulating the world to suit him. I glance over my shoulder. “That’s a stretch, Mr. Blackwell.”

“Xavier.”

“Mr. Blackwell.” I make the assertion as a way to protect myself, keep the professional barrier that he is determined to demolish. “You’re paying me a lot of money to get some work done.”

“So I am.” He raises an eyebrow. “Because most of today has been taken up by shopping and formalities, this will give us a chance to strategize without interruptions. I can give you the broad strokes about the business, and we can discuss workflows and expectations.”

I think I know plenty about his expectations.

“We’ll leave at five.”

I force out a breath. Is there any point in arguing? Really?

My stomach twists, not just from hunger but from the way his voice coils around me, promising danger as well as a taste of his darkness. I wish I could say no and mean it.

But the thought of sitting across from him, his dark eyes stripping me bare over dinner, sends a shiver down my spine that isn’t entirely fear.

He’s dangling temptation like a lure. If I refuse, I’m stuck with protein bars and pride. If I say yes, I’m stepping into his fire again. Can I survive the flames once more?

And the awful truth is, I really am famished.

If my finances were better, I’d order a food delivery. But the little that remains in my bank account won’t cover it. Even though I’ve got a fancy new job, my first paycheck will not arrive for a while. And my final check from Sterling won’t be here for at least a few more days.

I think longingly of the protein bars in my kitchen cabinet. I’d been too discombobulated to even think of grabbing one before I dashed out the door.

As it is, even if I get off work on time, it will be close to eight by the time I get home and make myself some boxed macaroni and cheese.

Twisting things in my head, I manage to convince myself that his suggestion makes sense. I somehow even reassure myself that going to dinner doesn’t have to mean that I want to spend time with him. And after all, acceptance isn’t surrender. Right? “Fine.”

“Fine?” A smile plays with his mouth. “A little enthusiasm would be nice.”

“I imagine it would.” With that, I finally escape.

Grateful I need to go to HR, I grab my new, ridiculously extravagant purse from my desk and hurry from the office.

I expect things will take only a few minutes, but the NDA, getting my picture taken, filling out my direct deposit form, tax info, and acknowledging receipt of the employee handbook takes almost an hour. Then I’m told I have to watch a video about the company and the corporate culture.

I enter a small room, and an image of Blackwell fills the oversize screen that occupies almost an entire wall.

His voice, low and modulated, wraps around me like it had in the bedroom yesterday, making me shiver. I wish I didn’t have such a powerful response to his scent, his voice, his jade-colored eyes, his presence.

Then I’m jolted back to reality when the camera zooms in and he starts talking about the importance of telling the truth to your teammates and boss.

The exact reason I was fired. “Hypocrite.”

For brief moments, I may succumb to his charms, but he always plunges me back to reality.

Before the video finishes, I walk out.

The HR rep at the desk looks up and frowns. “The video isn’t over yet. Everything okay?”

“I used to work here. So it’s kind of a repeat of information.”

“Mr. Blackwell?—”

“I promise I’ll tell him you tried to get me to watch the whole thing.” I smile. “He told me be as fast as I could.” That fib wasn’t an outright lie. After all, Blackwell does want me at my desk.

When I walk into his suite, I regret hurrying.

Instantly I see him through the glass that divides his office from the reception area.

He’s on the phone, pacing, but he stops to sweep his gaze over me.

Flushing, I sink into my desk chair.

Then it hits me like ice water down my spine. With where my desk is, he can watch every breath I take, see every lie I tell myself about him.

The force that is Xavier Blackwell is truly devouring my life.

Determined to do my job despite him, I power up my computer.

There’s a note on my screen with some sort of temporary code on it. Obviously someone from IT had been in here while I was gone.

The moment I login, I’m prompted to create a super-strong password that I’ll never remember.

With more determination than I’ve ever had, I sort through the files that I have access to.

As I go, I remember things, find my rhythm.

Even though I didn’t want this job, I need it. And I’m damn well going to excel at it and prove to him he made a huge mistake three years ago.

I’m so lost in my work that I don’t realize he’s near until I inhale his signature scent, untamed power interlaced with masculine spice.

I jerk my head up.

He’s not even a foot in front of my desk, taking me in.

“You’re deep in the zone.”

Shaking my head, I blink.

He makes a show of checking his fancy watch.

As he does, I catch a wink of light across his cuff links.

I think they’re the same ones I saw yesterday when I was cleaning his penthouse.

There are owls etched in the metal. Or at least that’s what I thought on first glance.

Maybe surrounded by laurel leaves. But the reflection of the emerald eyes is unmistakable.

“Time to go.”

“Already?” I glance at the time on my computer. 5:03 p.m. How had that happened?

“We have reservations; otherwise, I’d have waited for you to finish what you were doing.”

“There’s a lot to cover. I could have been here all night.”

“Which is why it’s important to separate work from pleasure.”

Images of him with different women on his arm every night flash through my mind. “Which you seem to do well.”

He grins. “Been looking me up?”

Scandalized heat rushes up my neck and chases across my face. “Certainly not.”

Deliberately he places both palms flat on my desk and leans in.

More than a bit of a coward, I scoot my chair back.

“You, Ms. Hollis, are a terrible liar.”

I always have been.

Refusing to respond, I save my work and shut down my computer. Then I grab my bag. “Ready.”

“Good. Car’s waiting.”

He holds the door for me, and when I start toward the elevator, he shakes his head. “This way.”

Blackwell leads me to an elevator that I didn’t know existed and presses the call button. “Private?”

“I’ll have security get your fingerprint for access.”

“That’s not necessary. I can use the main elevator.” Like everyone else.

“When we’re working late, this is safer.”

“You weren’t worried about that when I was your intern.”

I expect his comeback. Instead, he angles his head. “I’m smarter now. Perhaps I should have protected you more back then.”

My breath is strangled in my throat. Maybe he should have. And what if he had? How would I have reacted when the internship ended?

Fatalistically I give a mental shrug. At least my reputation would have been intact, which is a whole lot better than what actually happened.

We’re whisked to the level marked as PG. Parking garage, I’m guessing.

We exit, and there’s a car right in front of us with its back door open. The driver is the same woman who took me to River Oaks earlier today.

She’s warm and lovely, impeccably dressed in a tuxedo with a cap. “Mr. Blackwell. Ms. Hollis.”

“Vionna!” Already she feels familiar in a world that is anything but.

The woman grins. We’d had a fun conversation on the drives, mostly about her nieces and nephews and the ridiculous antics of her teacup Pomeranian, which Blackwell lets her bring to work when she doesn’t have a sitter.

The revelation shocked me. He doesn’t seem like the kind to put up with a dog in his limo.

But when I pressed for more information about him, she’d clamped her mouth shut. “Nondisclosure agreement?” I’d asked.

Since I’d insisted on riding up front instead of sitting in the back seat in a silly maid’s getup, she’d looked over at me. “Loyalty. He deserves it.”

Her emphatic defense of him surprised me even more.

No matter what, I don’t want to believe there’s more to the man than general assholeishness.

Blackwell hands me into the car, and I slide across seat.

I must be Cinderella.

And that makes me wonder…

How much time do I have before my second fall from grace? And with the way I’m attracted to Blackwell, will this time be even more devastating?