Page 5

Chapter Five

MALACHI

“E xcuse me?”

Christ, she still looks as adorable as I first thought. She’s staring at me as if I’m speaking a different language. In the lighting of my office, her lilac hair is more purple, the small finger waves framing her face. It gives her a halo of sweetness. Would her blood be as sweet as her?

Fuck, this is exactly why I can’t hire her.

“Why not?” Blake continues, stepping closer to my desk, her eyes sparking with indignation. “Is it seriously because I forgot to give you back your license after you dropped me off at my place?”

Her heart rate is quickening, a siren’s temptation. When was the last time I fed? Fed properly, not just from one of the donated bags from screened volunteers. Too fucking long ago, if the way my fangs are prickling and my mouth is watering.

“Of course not.” I dismiss her question. My gaze drops to her lips, pursed ever so slightly. My cock leaps as the memory of how soft they were against mine returns. I break away, clearing my throat and sitting upright to straighten the already tidy folders on my desk.

“However, I make it a personal policy to never work with someone I’ve had a personal...” I trail off, struggling to find the right word. “Assignation with.”

When Blake doesn’t respond, I look up at her. She’s staring at me incredulously, as if I’ve grown a second head. Her expression becomes shuttered and unease pricks at the base of my spine.

“So, you don’t find anything lacking in my work history or my audition performance?”

What’s she planning? I study her, seeing her in an opponent’s light. I know better than to answer that directly. If I say yes, then she could have grounds to bring a lawsuit against me. I retrieve her application’s file, flipping it open on top of my closed laptop. I make a show of glancing over it before relaxing back into my chair.

“While your performance was one of the better ones, your résumé is limited in experience compared to other candidates. Factoring in that we’ve—well, I’ll be blunt—that we made out in a car not even three days ago, I question the validity in the interest now that I’m aware of your interest in this position. Why else wouldn’t you tell me your name?”

I’m such a fucking asshole. I know she didn’t set herself up to be rescued. Once the words have left me, though, a seed of genuine doubt is planted. She’d hesitated when I’d handed her my license while introducing myself. I may be a vampire, but we have businesses that require an online presence. A simple search of my name would link me to this business. It wouldn’t be the first time a human woman has shown interest in me for her personal gain. It’s not even the first time a woman has wanted to use me for something.

“You cannot be serious.” Blake’s tone has gone from professional to cold disgust. Her cheeks are pink with the anger my vampiric sense of smell picks up. “You can’t be suggesting I knew who you were and just thought”—she throws her hands up in the air and changes her tone—“I should totally make out with this stranger I just met because maybe I’ll get the job I first interviewed for weeks ago and was passed over for.!”

She drops her hands, leveling me with a glare on par with one of Ambrose’s. The intensity of her anger is enough to know she hadn’t. If I concede to her, though, I will have one less official reason to hire her.

So, to protect us both, I play the card that Blake won’t—shouldn’t—forgive me for.

Lifting a shoulder in a shrug, I use two fingers to flip her file closed to conclude the conversation. “I would expect that someone who has worked at a strip club for over ten years wouldn’t hesitate to use her beauty and body to secure a job.”

I want to take it back immediately. Blake’s lips part as she steps back, as if I’ve physically struck her. I knew saying that would hurt her, but I don’t expect how much it hurts me to see the pain in her eyes. My chest physically aches and I grip the armrests to keep me from going to her and swearing I didn’t mean it.

She swallows hard enough I can hear it. Her scent of acidic anger turns into hurt and I can’t look at her anymore. I glare at the half-empty tallboy of whiskey, like it’s the reason I’m in this damn mess.

“Well. Then.” Her voice wobbles on the second word and it tears my gaze to her. She’s got the grace of a queen. Looking at me with a pleasant, practiced smile even while the wetness in her eyes is like blades to the gut. “It is clear that this position, unfortunately, will not be a good fit for either of us. Thank you for the opportunity.”

Blake turns, hurrying over to the chair to pick up her fans and escape. I watch her, hating myself for hurting her. She doesn’t look back as she reaches the door.

I’m moving before I know it. My chair hits the wall at the same time I press my hand flat against the office door before she can open it. She squeaks, surprised, but doesn’t let go of the doorknob or turn around. I lower my head, trying not to drink in her floral and tart scent. To not move my hands to her body and taste her skin the way I wanted to that night.

She barely comes up to my chest and I know I’m crowding her, but I can’t bring myself to step back yet. My knuckles go white from how hard I’m pressing against the door, not letting myself give in to my every urge. The best I can do is keep her from feeling how hard she makes me.

“Malachi?”

Blake whispering my name is too much. I drop my nose to her hair, breathing her scent in deeply.

Fuck, I’m such an idiot.

“I can’t hire you, Blake.” I’m quiet as I confess. “Because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. Craving you.”

Her gasp taunts me; my blood heats and cock throbs.

“You have no idea,” I continue, my voice rasping. “I can still taste you on my lips. How sweet and tempting you were. I want nothing more than to taste you again, but this time I’d start at the back of your knees, lick my way up until you’re dripping down my throat.”

“You don’t mean that,” Blake protests, her voice strained.

The sound that leaves my throat isn’t laughter. I slide my palms down the door until they’re level with her hips, careful not to touch her. “You have no idea how much I want to slide these tight leggings off of you right now. I fucking hate these things because I’m a damned animal and they’re a red flag waving at me.”

“Malachi, stop,” she hisses, pressing her body against the door, as if that will get her out from underneath my looming one. “This isn’t going to make things better. This is sexual harassment and?—“

“Exactly,” I growl, and can’t help myself. I let my right hand fall so it brushes her ass. She whimpers and the scent of her arousal fills the air. I press my forehead into the door over her shoulder as I take hold of her waist. Then I let her feel exactly how hard I ache for her. She freezes against me and I groan as her ass nestles my hard length. “I’d be dealing with this every damn day. Stuck up here, watching you from above. Fantasizing about bending you over my desk and fucking you, seeing how many times I can make you come around my cock.”

Blake whimpers. Then I feel it, the gentlest push of her ass against me. She wants me too, as much as she’s telling me to stop.

I ease back, pulling my hands away even as I want to turn her around and hike her up against the door. I won’t force myself onto her though. If she decides to act on the desire I smell soaking her, all I need is for her to tell me.

Seconds stretch into infinity, my world balancing on a tightrope.

Reality snaps back as she clears her throat. Blake turns around, her expression professional even if her cheeks are still flushed.

“Unless you are officially denying me the position, Mr. Casadecappa, I want to assure you of my ability to maintain professionalism. We’re both adults—you more so than me, by a long shot, given”—she gestures at me with one hand—“your long lifespan. I believe I will help make this place a success and I believe that you can and should keep it professional between us.”

The challenge in her eyes delights me and I’m reaching for her before I realize and cover it by shoving my hands in my pockets. Scowling, I can’t back down from the thrown gauntlet. I wrap myself in the harsh determination that lets me send men to their deaths and return to my desk.

“You start tomorrow, nine a.m., Ms. Taylor. Perry will be your direct supervisor. If you need anything, ask him.”