Page 5 of Forbidden Boss

When I step back into the bedroom, she’s asleep.

She’s sprawled across the mattress, sheets tangled around her hips, her bare skin glowing in the dim city light that filters through the blinds. Her breathing is even, lashes resting dark against her cheeks, her mouth still parted slightly as if she had fallen asleep with a question still on her lips.

For an instant, something twists in my chest. A foreign ache.

I stand at the edge of the bed, looking down at her. My hand itches to reach out, to brush her hair back from her face, to climb in beside her and feel the warmth of her body against mine again. To let the night stretch longer than it should. I almost do.

I clench my jaw, forcing the weakness back into the pit of my stomach where it belongs. I’m not a man who lingers. I don’t do soft. I don’t do mornings-after. That was beaten out of me years ago. Attachment is a liability, and liabilities get people killed.

I look at her one last time, committing the sight to memory. Then I turn away. I don’t leave her a note. I don’t write down my number or say I hope to see her again. I slip back into my jacket, slide my phone into my pocket, and leave the suite. The door closes behind me with a quiet click.

By the time the elevator reaches the lobby, my mask is back in place.

Cold, controlled, and untouched.

3

MARI

Iwake before my alarm, nerves buzzing through me like electricity. The city is just beginning to stir, the faint sounds of traffic starting below my window. I’m already dressed in the outfit I laid out the night before. Today is the first day of the rest of my life, and I’m not going to waste a second of it.

The subway ride uptown is crowded, but for once I don’t mind the press of strangers. Every bump of the train, every stop and start, only fuels my anticipation. It’s my first day at Levcon Industries. It’s the dream. It comes with prestige, envy from my peers, and a hell of a lot of money.

I keep rehearsing how I’ll introduce myself, how I’ll stand a little straighter, keep my voice calm and professional. I want them to see me as a woman ready to take on one of the most competitive industries in the city.

By the time I step off the train and walk the last block to Levcon’s headquarters, my heart is racing. The glass tower rises into the sky, gleaming in the morning light, its mirrored windows catching the sun and flinging it back across the busy street. People in sharp suits stream through the revolving doors, coffeein hand, each step purposeful. I join them, clutching the strap of my bag, reminding myself that I belong here.

Inside, the lobby is vast and hushed, with marble floors that click beneath my heels. I give my name to a security guard and he directs me toward the top floor for orientation with my supervisor.

The elevator ride stretches on forever. I try to calm my nerves, reminding myself that I already have the job. Everything from here will be easy. But when the doors slide open, my heart plummets to my stomach. I know I can do this. I just need to freak out a little first.

A tall woman with a clipboard meets me in the hall, introduces herself as Ms.Clarke from HR, and guides me toward the corner office where I’ll be meeting my boss.

She opens the heavy door without knocking, ushering me inside with a professional smile.

And then the world stops.

Behind the massive desk, framed by floor-to-ceiling windows that look out over Manhattan, sits my one-night stand. He looks more buttoned-up today, somehow even more imposing in the harsh morning light, but there is no doubt it’s him.

I freeze in the doorway, my breath caught in my throat, heat flooding my cheeks. Horror crashes through me so hard I think I might stumble.

He looks up from the papers on his desk, and for a moment, there is no flicker of recognition in his icy blue eyes. But then his gaze sharpens. A flash of something that might be surprisecrosses his face before it disappears behind that unreadable mask.

“Thank you, Ms.Clarke,” he says, his voice low and steady. “That will be all.”

Ms.Clarke nods and slips out, closing the door behind her, leaving me alone with him.

I can’t move. My stomach twists, embarrassment burning through me. Of all the men in New York, of all the bars, of all the nights I chose to be reckless, it had to be him.

He leans back in his chair, regarding me with that same detached authority I saw at the hotel, though now it’s even sharper.

“You’re late,” he says.

“I… what?” My voice cracks and I flush even hotter.

He arches a brow, glancing at the clock on the wall. “By three minutes,” he continues, unperturbed. “Punctuality is very important here.”

I open my mouth, close it again, fighting for composure. My carefully prepared introduction, my professional confidence, all of it evaporates. I clutch the strap of my bag, swallowing hard. “Yes, sir. It won’t happen again.”