In this scorching final installment of the Billion $ Bastards trilogy, infuriating billionaire Ulysses White fulfills Morgan Blackwood’s darkest fantasies in bed!

I need Morgan. She’s the heart of my business—so when she asks for a vacation, I refuse. But Morgan won’t let it go. She wants a life, a date, to get laid. Happily, I can provide two of those things…

Maybe I’m not able to read people’s emotions, but I can satisfy a woman’s every physical craving. And I’m ready to fulfill Morgan’s fantasies, no matter how wicked she thinks they are. When she tells me she wants me—and not in a gentle way—I propose a game: I’ll help her explore her darkest desires, as long as she remains in control.

Harlequin DARE publishes sexy romances featuring powerful alpha males and bold, fearless women exploring their deepest fantasies.

Discover the other irresistible men of Jackie Ashenden’s Billion $ Bastards series: Dirty Devil and Sexy Beast, available now!

JACKIE ASHENDEN writes dark, emotional stories with alpha heroes who’ve just gotten the world to their liking only to have it blown wide apart by their kick-ass heroines. She lives in Auckland, New Zealand, with her husband, the inimitable Dr. Jax, two kids and two rats. When she’s not torturing alpha males and their gutsy heroines, she can be found drinking chocolate martinis, reading anything she can lay her hands on, wasting time on social media or being forced to go mountain biking with her husband. To keep up-to-date with Jackie’s new releases and other news, sign up to her newsletter at jackieashenden.com.

Also by Jackie Ashenden

The Knights of Ruin

Ruined

Destroyed

Kings of Sydney

King’s Price

King’s Rule

King’s Ransom

The Billionaires Club

The Debt

Billion $ Bastards

Dirty Devil

Sexy Beast

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Bad Boss

Jackie Ashenden

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09955-4

BAD BOSS

© 2020 Jackie Ashenden

Published in Great Britain 2020

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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To those who are just a bit “different.” You’re all

heroes.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

EPILOGUE

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE
Morgan

I WANTED TO kill my boss.

And I did mean that quite literally. I wanted to put my fingers around Ulysses White’s strong, powerful neck and squeeze the life right out of him.

Naturally, I didn’t. Instead, I stood in front of his monumental black desk in his cavernous London office, with its view of the city and the Thames laid out beneath it like a supplicant before a throne, and stared at him instead.

‘What do you mean, you declined my annual leave request?’ I demanded, my fingers itching. ‘My perfectly reasonable leave request.’

He didn’t look up from the stack of papers he was signing, the early-morning sun glossing his night-black hair. ‘Your leave request was inconvenient,’ he said in his cold, dark voice. ‘So I declined it.’

My jaw ached. There’d been many times in the years I’d worked for Ulysses that I’d wanted to strangle him, because he did induce that kind of urge. But I had to admit that I’d never actually wanted to do it more than I did now.

‘You know that I’ve accumulated nearly six months’ worth of annual leave?’ I pointed out, keeping my voice very level, as Ulysses was never moved by emotion. Only logic. ‘I have to use it or else—’

‘I’ll pay it out.’ One strong, long-fingered hand signed yet another paper in his bold, slashing signature.

I bit down on the urge to tell him what to do with his pay out. ‘That’s not the point. The point is that I haven’t had a holiday in years.’

‘So? Neither have I.’

It was true, he hadn’t. Ulysses didn’t take holidays. He barely even took weekends. Managing Black and White Enterprises, the multi-billion-dollar company he’d begun from some brilliant crypto-currency speculation, along with his friends Damian Blackwood—my brother—and Everett Calhoun took every hour of his time.

He didn’t seem to mind. Then again, Ulysses didn’t seem to have feelings at all, so who knew? He was a man who lived and breathed numbers, and his brilliance with money had enabled him to push Black and White into the stratosphere. His brilliance with people, however, was non-existent.

That was where I came in. I was more than just his personal assistant. I was his heart, or at least that was how I thought of it. He was the brain, all cold logic and strategy, while I was the heart, dealing with his staff, his colleagues, his contacts—basically anything that required personal interaction, as he had zero inter-personal skills.

Don’t get me wrong. I loved my job. It was always different, always exciting, always challenging. But Ulysses was demanding, and I worked long hours, and sometimes, just sometimes, I wanted some time off.

Such as now. My brother had got married the previous week, which had prompted a certain amount of soul-searching. He was blissfully happy with Thea, his new wife, and their happiness had made me look at the emotional wasteland that was my own life.

Probably overly dramatic, but still. I was twenty-six and single. I’d never had a boyfriend and never had the opportunity to get myself one, given Ulysses owned all my time.

Not that I needed a man to complete me but, if I was going continue to be the heart of Ulysses’s company, I needed something more than work in my life.

I was lonely. I’d spent years telling myself that I was fine, that I loved working and living in London, that I didn’t need anything more than the challenge of working for Ulysses and Black and White. But perhaps I wasn’t as fine as I’d thought.

If my former man-whore brother could find someone to share his life, why couldn’t I?

‘I am not you,’ I said. ‘And I need a holiday.’

‘Too bad.’ Ulysses didn’t look at me, continuing to sign his stack of papers. ‘I need you here. Especially with Damian and Everett still away.’

Frustration coiled inside me, but I ignored it. Ulysses was uncomfortable with emotional displays, which wouldn’t help my cause.

‘I’ll be much more productive after a break,’ I argued. ‘And it won’t be for long. I’m thinking a week would—’

‘What do you want a holiday for?’ Ulysses picked up another piece of paper.

It was a genuine question. All his questions were genuine. Ulysses didn’t do sarcasm and didn’t understand it when it was directed at him. So I used it a lot for my own amusement, not to mention to let off steam, because dealing with Ulysses was a whole thing.

‘Why does anyone want a holiday?’ I asked. ‘To have a break from work, relax, do things they want to do and not things they have to do.’

He kept on signing those wretched papers. ‘What do you want to do?’

I eyed him. Interesting. He never asked me personal questions. ‘Oh, you know, have an actual life for a change.’

‘You already have an actual life.’ He scrawled across another page.

‘But not one like any other woman my age.’

‘How would you know? Plenty of women your age have different kinds of lives.’

I gritted my teeth. ‘I want to meet someone, Ulysses. Go out on a date. And maybe even get laid for once in my life.’ I said the last merely for effect, but I should have known that Ulysses would take it seriously because he took everything seriously.

‘You don’t need to meet someone,’ he said. ‘You have me. I’ll take you on a date, if that’s what you want.’

Because he wasn’t looking at me, I rolled my eyes at this typical response. ‘And I suppose you can get me laid too?’

‘Yes.’ He didn’t miss a beat, signing yet another paper. ‘I can do that as well.’

This would have been a joke with any other man. But Ulysses didn’t joke.

I nearly laughed. ‘You’ve got to be kidding.’

‘No, I’m not kidding.’

Of course he wasn’t. He didn’t know how to kid.

An inexplicable jolt of electricity shot through me. ‘So, you’re seriously offering to take me on a date? And then what? Have sex with me?’

He signed the last paper and finally looked up. ‘Yes. I believe that’s exactly what I said. Do I really need to repeat myself?’

I was conscious of a strange, twisting feeling in my gut. A familiar twisting feeling.

Because although Ulysses White might have zero people skills, he got away with it, because he was, quite simply, beautiful.

Not in the way my brother was beautiful—Damian was all warmth, all charm—but in the way a perfect diamond was beautiful. Or an iceberg. Or a mountain. Or a statue.

His features were sculpted: high cheekbones and a sharp jaw, an oddly sensual mouth and straight nose. It was an intensely masculine face and yet there was a distance to his beauty. A coldness. His looks were the kind that prompted worship rather than a desire to touch; his beauty was so sharp, you’d probably cut yourself on it.

His eyes were as black as his hair and as cold as the rest of him, glittering like obsidian, and for a second I didn’t know what to say.

He meant it. He’d absolutely take me on a date and then he’d have sex with me. Which would have been a lot more flattering if it had been about me. But it wasn’t. He’d never shown the slightest bit of sexual interest in me, which was just as well since not only was he my boss, he was my older brother’s friend, and Damian would definitely have words to say about it.

Not that I cared about what words Damian would have said.

Do you care about Ulysses showing interest, though?

That strange little pulse went through me again.

Ulysses was very attractive and I’d have had to be blind not to notice. In fact, when I’d first started working for him, I’d developed a bit of a crush. However, that had soon vanished when it had become apparent he didn’t seem to notice that I was even a woman. I’d have thought he wasn’t interested in sex at all if it hadn’t been for the fact that he often got me to find him female company of an evening.

Yes, I managed his little black book, and he had quite the stable despite his consistent lack of charm or anything approaching romance. I’d once asked one of them what drew them to him, and I’d expected it to be about the money or the power. But, though those were indeed attractive, it was more because he was very, very good in bed.

A fact I hadn’t realised I’d filed away until now.

I knew getting offended would be pointless, as he hadn’t meant to be offensive. He was only being his usual literal self.

‘No, you don’t need to repeat yourself,’ I replied, his literalism meeting my calm. ‘But you do realise that sexual relations between us would be problematic?’

He gave me the frown he always gave me when I confronted him with something puzzling. ‘Why?’

‘You’re my boss and sleeping with the boss is generally not a good idea.’

‘I don’t see the problem. If you feel you’d be more productive after sex, then it seems logical that I should provide you with it.’

My cheeks warmed, which was stupid, given I’d never had a problem with Ulysses’s blunt honesty before. ‘I didn’t say that I would be more productive after sex. I said I would be more productive after a holiday.’

‘Yes. A holiday involving meeting someone, a date and some sex.’

Damn. Why had I said that? I’d let my irritation get the better of me, which had been a mistake. It always was with Ulysses.

My cheeks got even warmer and he noticed, his gaze narrowing. ‘There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Morgan.’

‘I’m not embarrassed,’ I said automatically.

‘Yes, you are. Does the thought of sex with me bother you?’

My stomach twisted again, a certain heated fantasy taking shape in my head of his hands holding me down, not letting me go. Of me struggling to get away, but knowing he was too strong. Of knowing that I’d never be able to get away from him no matter how hard I tried…

I shoved the shameful fantasy away. Hard.

‘Again, you’re my boss,’ I said. ‘It isn’t appropriate. Come on, Ulysses. You know HR has a policy about this kind of thing. I helped you write it, remember?’

He ignored that completely, his gaze unwavering and very, very direct. ‘It shouldn’t bother you,’ he went on, as if I hadn’t spoken. ‘I’m very good at it.’ He said the words without any discernible smugness or triumph. As if it was an undisputed fact, as certain as gravity and that humans needed oxygen to breathe.

‘I’m sure you are.’ I took no notice of the feeling that kept twisting in my gut. ‘But that doesn’t change the policy.’

‘Then I’ll rewrite the policy.’ He put his pen down, continuing to stare at me with the kind of unwavering concentration he normally only gave to his study of the stock market. ‘If you need me to prove it to you, I can.’

‘Prove it to me?’ I repeated blankly. ‘Prove what?’

He pushed his chair back and stood up, and just like that I became aware of him in a way I hadn’t been before—or, at least, hadn’t let myself be aware of before.

Six-foot-four and built like a rugby prop forward, his beautifully cut charcoal suit enhanced powerful shoulders and a broad chest, a lean waist and long legs. Just like his face, his body was nothing but sheer male perfection.

He rounded the desk and, with a jolt, I realised he was coming straight for me.

‘Ulysses?’ My voice sounded not quite as shocked as it should have. ‘What the hell are you doing?’

CHAPTER TWO
Ulysses

MORGAN’S DEEP BLUE eyes were wide with surprise, which was puzzling. She’d told me what she wanted and I’d told her I’d provide it. And I would, given I couldn’t let her have her annual leave, not with Damian and Everett being gone and the Black and White Foundation—the charity our company had just launched—getting off the ground. I needed her with me.

‘What do you think I’m doing?’ I frowned as she backed away. ‘I told you I’d give you what you needed.’

‘Now?’ Her voice sounded breathy and there was a distinct glitter in her eyes. I recognised that glitter, because I’d trained myself to look for it. The glitter of a woman beginning to feel sexually aroused.

‘Of course now.’ She’d said she’d be more productive with a holiday, a date and sex, so there was little point in waiting. I preferred to act immediately once I’d made a decision and this was the most logical decision to make.

She’d backed up to the meeting table near the windows, putting her hands back to brace herself against it, still looking up at me, blue eyes wide.

Her face was pale and yet there was colour in her cheeks. She had perfectly symmetrical features. I’d heard people call her beautiful, though beauty didn’t interest me. What interested me was the small beauty spot near the left-hand side of her top lip, the one flaw in her face. The one break in the pattern.

It bothered me. I couldn’t explain why. In fact, it had been bothering me for a while now, and the fact that I was bothered was an issue. It was likely to be some kind of sexual response, in which case the best way to solve the issue was to have sex.

Which made her confession about needing a holiday come with perfect timing.

I stopped in front of her, staring down at her. She wore a dark blue pencil skirt and a white blouse with a bow at the neck. The bow was loose, beginning to come undone, revealing the pulse at the base of her throat. It was beating very fast.

I studied her face, searching for fear, which I did when I was with a woman. Morgan wasn’t wrong—sex was a good way to relax—but I preferred sex a certain way and, as that way could be misinterpreted, I liked to make sure that the woman I was with didn’t have problems with it. Especially as making a woman come was the whole point.

I’d never feel the same things other people did, I simply wasn’t built that way, but I knew what physical pleasure was and I could give it to someone else. I could feel what they felt in that moment. I could…connect.

It was addictive. I liked to do it as often as I could, and it struck me that it was something I could give to Morgan.

‘Really,’ she murmured. ‘Must you be so literal all the time?’

She often asked questions like this, which didn’t seem to require an answer, since the answer was obvious.

Nevertheless, I replied anyway, just in case it wasn’t obvious. ‘Yes. I don’t know how to be anything else.’

I couldn’t stop studying her face. I wanted to tell her that her little mole bothered me, but I’d learned that women didn’t appreciate having such things pointed out. I didn’t understand why it bothered them, given none of those things were flaws—or at least, they weren’t to me—but I didn’t want to say anything that would bother her. I didn’t understand that urge either, as I generally didn’t concern myself with other people’s feelings. Yet for some reason the thought of Morgan’s feelings bothered me.

Perhaps it was because she was Damian’s sister and I felt an obligation to her. He’d asked me to give her a job a few years ago, also asking me to look after her, and I’d initially refused since I ran a company, not a babysitting service. But Damian had argued that I needed someone to help me when dealing with people and that Morgan was very good at dealing with people.

He hadn’t been wrong. She was good. Good enough that I simply couldn’t do without her.

‘You could pretend,’ she said.

‘What would be the point?’ I took her chin between my fingers, holding her securely.

She went very still. ‘What are you doing?’

I examined her face once more, but there were no signs of fear, only some other expression that I couldn’t identify. Her pupils had dilated and I could hear her breath catch.

Her skin was very warm and very soft against my fingertips, a sensual pleasure I hadn’t expected.

‘I thought I’d give you some proof that I’m as good in bed as I said I was,’ I said, a trifle irritated at having to explain. ‘It’s logical to try something out before you commit yourself.’

She blinked, her mouth gone very soft. It was red and it made me feel hungry all of a sudden, as if I wanted to take a bite out of it.

Careful. Be very careful.

I’d have to be. Some women had no problem with my particular desires, a lot even shared them, but I had a sense it would be different with Morgan. It was true that she was my employee, and having sexual relations with an employee wasn’t looked on with approval these days. But if both parties agreed, what was the issue?

Still, Morgan had brought it up, which made it an issue for her, and anything that was an issue for her was also an issue for me.

She blinked again. ‘I didn’t realise you were going to offer proof right now. Especially when I haven’t said that I actually want to have sex with you.’

I frowned. ‘Your pupils are dilated and your cheeks are flushed. Your pulse is also very fast. All of which indicates a certain level of sexual arousal.’ Moving my thumb experimentally, I stroked the line of her lower lip, testing the softness of it and watching her reaction. If I wasn’t much mistaken, that little sound had been her breath catching again. ‘Yes, you like me touching you, I think.’

‘Ulysses…’ Her voice sounded husky and the flush in her cheeks had deepened. ‘I don’t think this is a good idea.’

‘Why not?’ Again, I stared at the little mole to the side of her upper lip. It was dark against her pale skin, an almost perfect circle.

‘Because you’re my boss.’

‘You’ve said that before and I fail to see the relevance.’

‘A date first.’ She sounded breathless. ‘That’s what I said. A date first before the sex.’

She smelled of jasmine. I wasn’t sure if it was her perfume, her soap or what, but I liked it. It was sweet and I’d always had a fondness for sweet things.

‘What does it matter whether the date comes before the sex?’ I didn’t like dates, mainly because they consisted of pointless small talk, and I couldn’t do small talk. Sex was much easier for me. I rubbed my thumb over her bottom lip again, feeling her shiver beneath my hand. ‘I can’t promise that I’ll be an entertaining date, but I can promise that you’ll climax many times in my bed.’

I didn’t think it was possible for her face to get any redder, or for her eyes to get even wider, but it seemed it was entirely possible.

How interesting. I’d never flustered Morgan Blackwood before. She got impatient with me, and sometimes angry, but I’d never made her eyes go smoky the way they were now. I’d never made her blush. And I wasn’t sure why that made me feel good, when it had never occurred to me to fluster her before, but it did.

‘Ulysses,’ she said again.

But I was tired of arguing. ‘I’m going to kiss you,’ I said. ‘Do you agree?’ I always asked. I had to be careful with emotional cues, as I tended to miss them, and since a woman’s climax was dependent on her enjoying the sexual interaction I always made sure she was a willing participant.

Morgan was trembling slightly. ‘I…don’t know.’

‘Why don’t you know?’

‘Because…this is very sudden.’ Her gaze dropped to my mouth and it made my cock harden.

It was an intriguing sensation. I’d never considered Morgan as a sex partner, mainly because of my association with her brother and his request that I look after her. Also, it had never occurred to me. Sex I could get from any woman, so why would I complicate matters by getting it from her?

Yet now I was considering doing just that, and it was an interesting prospect. What would she be like in bed? Would her body go pink and would she writhe beneath me? What would her climax look like? Would she scream, like some women did, or would she bury her face in the pillow? Or would she be silent, closing her eyes and panting as it washed over her? Would she like to be held down—a personal fantasy of mine—or would she struggle against my hold? Would she find being restrained a turn-on?

‘Your body doesn’t seem to find it sudden,’ I pointed out.

‘No, but my head needs to catch up.’ She took a breath. ‘You do understand that, don’t you?’

‘Yes.’ I paused. ‘Do you need a seduction?’ Some women did before they felt they could participate. ‘Or would you prefer me just to take the kiss without asking?’ Again, something else that some women liked.

Her pupils dilated even further. ‘I…beg your pardon?’

Was that a fear response? I couldn’t tell. Further testing seemed to be required.

‘I could force you into a kiss,’ I explained, watching her face carefully. ‘Some women enjoy it. They find it adds excitement.’

She was trembling harder now, the pulse at the base of her throat even faster. Her eyes were very dark, only a sliver of blue showing around the inky black of her pupils. ‘I don’t know.’ Her voice was slightly thicker this time, her gaze dropping once more to my mouth. ‘I don’t know what I like.’

Interesting. Well, she might not know what she liked, but I’d given her the opportunity to say no and she hadn’t said it. And, given how she was looking at my mouth, it seemed clear that she wasn’t averse to the idea of kissing it.

So I tightened my grip on her chin. ‘Let’s find out, then,’ I said. And I bent my head and covered her lips with mine.

CHAPTER THREE
Morgan

I DIDN’T KNOW what was happening. One minute I’d been complaining about Ulysses not approving my leave request, the next we were talking about sex, closely followed by him getting in my face, taking my chin in one large, capable hand and insisting on giving me proof of his bedroom skills.

And I hadn’t pushed him away. I hadn’t even said no.

I’d just stood there and let it happen as he’d bent his head and kissed me.

If I’d ever imagined Ulysses’s kiss—and believe me, I hadn’t—I’d have imagined it as cold and as passionless as his icy black eyes.

I was wrong.

His mouth was firm and not cold in the slightest. In fact, it was warm, so very, very warm. And there was a gentleness to the kiss that I hadn’t expected, his lips brushing over mine, lightly testing.

A shudder worked its way down my spine and my lungs felt empty of air. All my awareness zeroed in on his mouth and how it felt on mine, and how very different it was from any other kisses I’d experienced in my life.

Not that I’d experienced very many. I’d gone to an exclusive girls’ school back in Australia, where I’d grown up, and had always been conscious that Damian had worked very hard to send me there. I hadn’t wanted to squander the educational opportunity by messing around, like some of my friends had.

Once I’d left school, I’d gone straight to London and had ended up working for Ulysses, and the long hours had pretty much cemented my status as a virgin. Until a few years later, when I’d decided I’d had enough and had used a dating app to finally get rid of my bloody hymen.

The experience had been dull and kind of awful so I hadn’t been in any hurry to repeat it, happy to remain boyfriend-less for the next few years. Until Damian had got married. Until I’d realised that I was lonely and didn’t want to be lonely any more.

Until bloody Ulysses White had kissed me.

It wasn’t like the one time with that guy—I couldn’t even remember his name… Brian Someone-or-other—whose kiss had been tentative, hesitant and awkward. I hadn’t wanted any of those things. I’d wanted passion and intensity. I’d wanted to be gripped and held tight, and kissed as if he couldn’t get enough of me. As if he was desperate for a taste.

Ulysses’s grip tightened on my chin, holding me with exactly the right kind of firmness, taking control effortlessly and with a practised mastery that left me shaking. He touched his tongue to my bottom lip, tasting, coaxing, and I found myself opening up to him, letting him inside.

It was wrong to let him kiss me like this, to let him take it from me without asking. But he’d asked me what I’d liked and I’d told him I didn’t know.

I was a liar. I did know. I just hadn’t wanted to say—not when the last time I’d voiced my fantasies it had turned out badly. Yet somehow he’d known anyway, kissing me exactly the way I wanted him to.

The kiss deepened and I nearly moaned. His mouth was hot and he tasted spicy and rich, like a good, smoky whiskey.

My hands lifted to his chest, my fingers curling in the crisp cotton of his shirt. There was an ache inside me, a pulsing pressure between my thighs, and I had no idea why, since I’d never felt anything like this around him before. Never, ever.

His tongue stroked deep inside my mouth, and my head fell back, allowing him to kiss me deeper. I shut my eyes, his sensual flavour unravelling every expectation I had, coaxing me to respond, to kiss him back.

But I wanted more. Wanted harder. Rougher. To be shoved back against that desk, his mouth taking and taking…

Are you out of your goddamn mind?

My fantasy came to a screaming halt, realisation hitting me like a bucket of cold water. My boss of nearly eight years was kissing me in the middle of the day, in the middle of his office, because he wanted to give me proof that he was good in bed.

Because he’d offered to have sex with me.

And I was letting him.

What the hell was I doing?

I went to push him away, but he was already doing it, letting go of my chin and stepping back. And my body was so behind my brain that I almost followed him, almost kept hold of his shirt to keep that masterful mouth on mine.

He frowned, then smoothed his shirt where I’d been holding it. ‘Well?’ His voice was its usual cold self, as if he hadn’t just kissed me silly. ‘Is that proof enough for you?’

I surreptitiously braced myself on the table behind me, my knees weak. ‘Proof enough?’ I echoed, my thought processes sluggish. ‘What?’

His expression turned impatient. ‘Proof enough that I know what I’m doing when it comes to sex.’

I tried to kick-start my stupid brain. Yes, that was why he’d kissed me. Because of what I’d said about a holiday. About meeting someone and dating and… Shit. Getting laid.

What had possessed me to say that? What had possessed me to stand there and let him kiss me?

You liked the kiss, though.

I shivered, trying to ignore how hot and sensitised my mouth felt and how his rich, spicy flavour lingered on my tongue. Trying to ignore how much I’d liked the firm way he’d held me and the confident mastery of the kiss.

Because, even if I’d liked it, I couldn’t let anything more happen. He was my boss and, no matter what he said, sleeping with him would complicate matters. If I was going to meet a man, it had to be one who was not related to my working life in any way.

I leaned against the table, annoyed that I was the one getting all weak-kneed while he stood there in his usual way, as if nothing touched him.

I knew Ulysses did actually have feelings. He was highly uncomfortable in social situations, and when he was uncomfortable he got agitated and angry. Just as when he was involved in a project that consumed his attention, he’d sometimes hum under his breath, which meant he was happy. Or at least content.

But he didn’t look angry now, and he wasn’t humming, and that meant he didn’t feel anything. It bothered me. Almost as if I wanted him to be as affected by that kiss as I’d been, which was ridiculous.

‘Well?’ he demanded, impatient with my silence.

‘It was a…very effective demonstration,’ I said, clearing my throat.

‘Yes,’ he agreed with his customary self-confidence. ‘Of course it was.’

‘But I’m still going to have to decline. I can’t have sex with you, Ulysses.’

His frown became ferocious. He wasn’t often thwarted, got irritated when he was, and he clearly was now. ‘Why not?’ he demanded. ‘You were very aroused by that kiss, I could tell.’

I could feel my cheeks get hot again. ‘You’re still my boss.’

‘So? I understand that complicates things for you, but it wouldn’t complicate anything at all for me.’

I tried not to sigh. ‘That’s kind of the point. I don’t want to go to bed with someone who doesn’t really want me.’

His frown became a scowl, his black eyes focusing on me intently. ‘You think I’m not sexually aroused by you?’

‘Well, I—’

‘Give me your hand.’ He held out his commandingly.

I swallowed, having a good idea of where this was going. ‘Ulysses…’

‘Give me your hand.’

I extended my hand and, sure enough, he brought my palm down over the fly of his trousers. The wool was warm and smooth, and I expected to feel nothing but distaste for the hard ridge I could feel there. Yet instead of distaste electricity whispered over my skin. He was hotter than I’d expected, and so much harder. Long and thick…

Awareness filtered through me that it was his cock I had my hand on, and that there was no doubting the fact that he was hard. Very, very hard.

He might only have offered to sleep with me for the sake of my so-called productivity, but his body wanted me. Sure, he might have got hard for any random woman, but here, right now, that random woman was me.

And you like that. You like that a lot.

He was a powerful man, the head of a multi-billion-dollar company. He snapped his fingers and the stock markets fell or rose, depending on what he was doing. CEOs of other major companies rushed to do his bidding. He probably owned half of London.

And yet I, a little nobody from Sydney, Australia, held him in the palm of my hand.

‘You see?’ His obsidian eyes glittered. ‘I’m hard for you.’

I wanted to pull my hand away and have him press his down on mine, holding it there. But that would mean giving in to those very wrong urges, so I left my hand where it was. Not that it was a bad place for it to be. The hard line of his cock burned against my palm and, inexplicably, I wanted to close my hand around it, see what he’d do if I did.

You know what he’d do.

A shiver ghosted along my skin, raising goose bumps. Yes, I did know. He wouldn’t hesitate. He wouldn’t be shy. He’d lift me up on this table and he’d push me down and I…

Crap. Stop. I wasn’t going there with Ulysses, and certainly not with that particular fantasy.

‘That’s got nothing to do with me,’ I said coolly, finally dropping my hand from him. ‘That’s only because I happen to be female.’

‘Of course it’s got something to do with you.’ He sounded irritated. ‘I wouldn’t have kissed you if you were male, because I’m straight.’

Literal. Always so literal.

‘What I mean is that you’re not attracted to me in particular,’ I pointed out, trying to be patient.

‘No.’ Ulysses’s stare was unrelenting. ‘It’s true that I wasn’t attracted to you before. But I am now.’

‘What? Just like that?’

‘Yes.’ His gaze roved over me. ‘Do you want me to kiss you again? Or perhaps I shouldn’t ask. You liked it when I did that just before.’

My mouth had gone dry. He was only this intense when he was focused on a particular project, and only when he was really interested in it. He’d never looked at me that way before, and I couldn’t understand why I liked it. And I did like it. I really liked it.

Because no one has ever looked at you that way before.

It was true. Not even my single, solitary date. He hadn’t looked at me as if I’d been fascinating, and he definitely hadn’t taken a kiss from me. He hadn’t taken hold of me at all, and when he’d touched me it had been hesitant. So I’d asked—awkwardly—if he could hold me tighter, kiss me harder, perhaps even hold me down. He’d been horrified, looking at me as if I’d been crazy, so I’d never mentioned it again. To anyone.

But I hadn’t even had to ask Ulysses. He’d simply taken that kiss the way I’d secretly longed a man do, and his grip on my chin had been perfect. And I’d had the sense that I could have pushed against his hard chest and he wouldn’t have moved. Wouldn’t have let me go…

My breathing ramped up, the thought of him grabbing me and kissing me again exciting, though along with the excitement came a sense of shame. My one-night-stand had made me feel bad about what I’d wanted and part of me had agreed with him. Because, seriously, what woman got excited about the thought of being held down? Of struggling against a man far stronger and more powerful than she was? Of not being able to escape?

You do.

Yeah, but why? What was it about me? Maybe it was the whole wrongness of it, which was a whole can of worms I hadn’t expected to open. At least, not right now.

God. I’d only applied for some bloody leave.

‘You’re not going to approve my leave application?’ I pushed myself away from the table, struggling to get back on track.

‘Of course I’m not,’ Ulysses snapped. ‘Not with the Black and White Foundation party coming up. I need you, Morgan, and there’ll be no more discussion about it.’

Damn him. I shouldn’t be surprised, though. When he made up his mind about something, he seldom changed it. And, as reluctant as I was to admit it, the upcoming party for Black and White Enterprises’ new charity for underprivileged kids was a worthy cause. We wanted to thank the donors for their generosity and, as it was a purely social occasion, Ulysses would want me to handle it personally, because he couldn’t.

‘Now,’ he went on in his characteristically impatient way. ‘Answer the question, please.’

Right. The question. About kisses and whether I wanted him just to take them…

To be perfectly honest, I didn’t want to think about that, because I knew the answer would be yes. And possibly want him to take more than a kiss. Which meant no, it wasn’t happening.

‘I’d rather not talk about this just now,’ I said with as much dignity as I could muster. ‘In fact, could we forget about the entire thing?’

But he showed no sign either of moving to let me pass or forgetting about anything. ‘We can’t forget about it. And it doesn’t solve the fact that you said you wanted a holiday in order to be more productive.’

Bloody man. He wasn’t going to let me sweep this whole embarrassing incident under the carpet, was he? And, yes, it was embarrassing. For me.

Oh, come on, you’re intrigued—don’t deny it.

I couldn’t deny it. But I didn’t want to confront that just yet, at least not while he was in my immediate vicinity. ‘Fine,’ I snapped back. ‘I’ll think about it, okay?’

And, before he could reply, I pushed past him and went out, slamming his office door behind me.

CHAPTER FOUR
Ulysses

I WORKED LATE that night, as per usual, but I found it difficult to concentrate. I kept getting distracted by the memory of Morgan’s face after I’d kissed her. By the red flush in her cheeks and how pouty and full her mouth had looked. By that beauty spot above her mouth and how it bothered me. How it made me want to taste it.

The whole thing was annoying, especially the way she’d walked out of my office without answering my question. She hadn’t come back either, and when I’d asked one of my secretaries to find her I was told she’d gone home with a headache.

Morgan never got headaches, though, which meant she’d excused herself from work for some other reason.

Normally I wouldn’t have wasted my time trying to sort out what that reason could be, because my time was literally money. But Morgan’s presence was vital and I didn’t like that she’d absented herself without telling me.

Why had she done that? She often did inexplicable things, but I didn’t tend to notice unless they actively impacted on me. Such as her way with people, and how she managed to make them smile, and how she talked to them so easily. She didn’t get impatient and was able to navigate social situations with an adeptness I admired, because it wasn’t something I could do myself. I had very few weaknesses but I didn’t like social gatherings. People irritated me and I couldn’t be bothered with the pointless small talk that seemed to be required whenever more than two people were in a room. Business topics I had no issues with, but when conversations included things like the weather, the traffic and how people were feeling that day then I got impatient.

It was all meaningless to me. All pointless. I didn’t understand the jokes people made and I often had the sense that there were unspoken discussions being had that I wasn’t a part of, discussions that everyone else could understand. Before Morgan had come to work for me, I hadn’t attended any social gatherings, but since she’d become my assistant and handled those situations for me I could deal with them in a limited way.

What was especially irritating, though, was that the Black and White Foundation donors seemed to require a party to thank them for their donations. I wasn’t sure why they needed to be thanked, as the cause was good, but Morgan had assured me that people liked to be acknowledged for their charity.

I’d been hoping Damian would be back so he could go in my stead but since he and Everett had seemingly both disappeared off the face of the earth it was left to me to deal with it.

Or rather, Morgan. Which meant I couldn’t approve her leave right now.

I glared at my computer screen, unable to stop thinking about how she’d walked out of my office earlier that day. She’d gone very quickly, almost as if she’d wanted to get out fast. Was she angry with me for refusing her request?

She hadn’t been pleased, but surely she understood how important the foundation was? I couldn’t allow her a holiday, but I had offered to give her the other things she’d wanted. Or was it about something else?

She was confusing about the kiss.

I leaned back in my chair and swivelled it round so I faced the windows and the lights of London spread out beneath me. I liked looking at those lights. They showed me the patterns of the streets and I could map the entire city in my head. It was soothing.

Except the lights weren’t soothing tonight. My cock was hard—irritating, given I couldn’t concentrate when I needed sex.

I couldn’t get the taste of Morgan’s mouth out of my head.

She’d liked the kiss, and she’d liked it when I’d mentioned taking another one from her, and I didn’t understand why she hadn’t admitted it. I didn’t understand why she didn’t want to accept my offer of sex either, when it was clear the thought had excited her. I knew she had reservations about me being her boss, and that she needed some time to think about it, but she’d already had…what? A good six hours. Surely that was enough time?

I reached for my phone, deciding against a text and calling her instead.

The phone rang for a long time, which was strange, because normally she answered on the second ring. But this time she didn’t answer until the tenth, and when she did she sounded tired. ‘What is it, Ulysses? Can I not have a single evening without you in it?’

‘I’m not anywhere near your evening. I’m here at the office.’

‘Are you ever anywhere else?’

‘Sometimes.’ Surely that was obvious? ‘Sometimes I’m at home. Why do you ask?’

She sighed. ‘It’s fine. I was just being sarcastic.’

I scowled at the lights outside. ‘Well, don’t be. You know I don’t like it when you are.’

‘Well, I don’t like it when you kiss me out of the blue.’ Her voice sounded less tired and more sharp.

‘It wasn’t out of the blue. I told you I was going to kiss you.’ I began the process of mapping the city again, following the lights, trying to soothe the agitation inside me. ‘You went home today without telling me.’

‘I had a headache. I thought you wouldn’t mind.’

Lies were difficult for me to pick up on, especially with people I didn’t know, but I knew when Morgan was lying because her voice got very flat. And it was very flat now. ‘You don’t sound sorry,’ I said. ‘And you didn’t have a headache. And, yes, I do mind.’

There was a silence.

‘How do you know I didn’t have a headache?’ she asked.

‘Because you’ve never gone home with a headache before.’ I felt restless all of a sudden, impatient. I didn’t want to talk about her headache or why she’d gone home. Those things were murky and difficult to grasp, especially when what I really wanted was to kiss her again. ‘Have you thought about it?’

‘Thought about what?’

‘About whether or not you want to take up my offer of sex. You’ve had about six hours to think about it, which should be more than enough time.’

She was silent.

‘Are you worried I’ll require a relationship from you?’ Perhaps that was what was causing her doubt. ‘You needn’t, if so. I don’t have relationships with the women I sleep with.’

‘That’s…not what I’m worried about.’

‘But you still haven’t made up your mind?’

‘Ulysses.’ Her voice was now quiet. ‘Why are you pursuing this so hard? Why not call one of your other women if you want sex so very badly?’

I studied the lights outside, uncomfortable at the thought of confessing this to her, though I had no reason to be. ‘I don’t want one of those other women. I want you.’

‘Oh,’ she said.

People didn’t say no to me. They always did what I told them, gave me what I asked for, and there were only two people in the entire world who wouldn’t do those things.

Damian and Everett were those two people.

But I was beginning to realise that there was a third.

Morgan.

‘This…wouldn’t affect our working relationship, would it?’ she asked after a long moment.

‘Why would it?’

‘No.’ She sighed. ‘I suppose it wouldn’t with you.’

‘Of course not. Sex has nothing to do with our working relationship except where it affects your productivity.’

‘I’m beginning to wish I’d never said that,’ she muttered.

‘But you did say it.’

She was reluctant and I didn’t know why. It puzzled me, irritated me. Her body had been ready, but her head hadn’t, or so she’d said, and she’d needed time. Neither of those things should have bothered me. If she didn’t want to accept my offer, then I shouldn’t have given it another thought. I had plenty of other women who were happy to accept what I had to give.

But it wasn’t other women that I wanted and I understood that now.

It was Morgan.

I shut my eyes, closing out the view of the lights and the fascinating pattern, concentrating on her voice. It was easier to talk to her on the phone, where I didn’t have her face in front of me with all those expressions crossing it. Expressions that didn’t match with her tone and that I couldn’t interpret. With only her voice, there were no other distractions. I could parse the meanings in it.

‘Tell me,’ I said, because I wanted to know, ‘Is it other sexual experiences that are making you reluctant? Have you not had physical pleasure before with a partner?’

Yet more silence.

Was she offended? I couldn’t tell.

‘That’s none of your business.’ Her voice sounded crisp. But then she always sounded crisp.

‘It’s most definitely my business if you’re going to have sex with me,’ I pointed out. ‘And I can promise you that, if you do, it’ll be a better experience than any you’ve had before. In fact, I can assure you that you’ll never have another like it.’

She made a choking sound. ‘You’re incredibly arrogant. You know that, right?’

People had told me that before, though I didn’t understand why. I was good at a great many things, and sex was one of them. I saw no reason to pretend otherwise.

‘Would you rather have sex with someone who didn’t know what they were doing?’ I asked.

‘No,’ she said after a moment. ‘I suppose not.’

Her answer didn’t surprise me, because was there anyone who’d want to waste time on an experience that would only be disappointing? With me she’d know exactly what she’d be getting: nothing but pleasure and I could guarantee it.

‘No,’ I replied, satisfied. ‘Of course you wouldn’t. And it’s not just pleasure I can give you, Morgan, but I can also promise that you’ll be safe with me. You can trust me to look after you both before sex and afterwards—completely.’

She made another inarticulate noise. ‘Well, when you put it like that…’

‘Good.’ Obviously she’d decided. ‘I’ll be round in fifteen minutes.’ And I disconnected the call.

CHAPTER FIVE
Morgan

FIFTEEN MINUTES? WAS he kidding?

I stared at the wall of my tiny kitchen, my phone clutched in my hand.

Ulysses had disconnected before I could say a word and now he was coming here. In fifteen minutes.

Shit.

‘You bloody stupid bastard,’ I muttered to him, and maybe a little to myself as well, because clearly I hadn’t been obvious enough. And with Ulysses I had to be obvious, since he didn’t understand subtle.

If you’d wanted to tell him no, you should have said no.

But I hadn’t said no. Or even, ‘No, I don’t want to sleep with you—not now, not ever.’

When I’d walked out of his office earlier, I’d told him I’d think about it, but what I’d actually intended to do was go on with my day as if nothing had happened. And yet I’d found I couldn’t stop thinking about him, that kiss and my own intense reaction to him. In the end I hadn’t been able to concentrate on work so I’d invented a headache and had taken myself off home to contemplate my life choices.

I hadn’t expected him to call me. I thought he’d get distracted by work and completely forget what had happened in his office.

Apparently not.

So what now?

Good question. My subconscious was clearly up to something, as I hadn’t managed the word no, which must mean that, yes, I was seriously contemplating sleeping with Ulysses.

Was I insane?

I’d never done anything outrageous or inappropriate before. I wasn’t into rocking the boat. I liked my boats steady and firm underfoot, with absolutely no rocking of any kind.

My only rebellion was the occasional burst of sarcasm when Ulysses was being an utter tool.

A small rebellion. Just like my life. Small and narrow. Confined.

Safe.

Since when had I let it come to this? To long hours spent at work, living in a tiny flat in London? Going nowhere and seeing no one? The same routine, day in, day out? The only contact I had being with a man who didn’t understand me?

I tossed the phone back down on the kitchen counter and paced over to the window, looking out onto the lights of the street below.

I lived in a tiny apartment in the city, a studio flat. I could have afforded bigger, given Ulysses paid me very well, but I’d never seen the point of having something big when it was just me living in it. I didn’t want to rattle around in some vast space, fully aware of how on my own I was.

A safe, small little life contained in a tiny flat.

Yay, you.

I frowned at the night outside my windows.

I liked my own company. I was perfectly happy living by myself. I was perfectly happy with my job. I’d gone straight from school to London after Damian had got me a position as Ulysses’s personal assistant. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. Sometimes I wished I’d had some time to live a little before then. But I also knew that Damian wanted the best for me and he’d worked his butt off to help me get where I was today.

It wasn’t that I wasn’t grateful. I just wanted something…more.

Something that wasn’t safe or so confined.

Something that rocked my very stable boat just a little.

Such as sex with your infuriating boss? Passionate sex? Rough, wild sex?

A shiver slid down my spine. An excited shiver.

He’d assured me I’d have a better experience than any I’d had before. That I’d never have another experience like it, and that wasn’t an empty promise. I’d called him arrogant, and he was, but only because that arrogance was thoroughly justified. Socially he might be at sea, but he knew his company inside out, saw the big picture as well as the small. He knew exactly what was happening where and at any given time. He’d told me once that he saw Black and White Enterprises like an engine, every part fitting perfectly together and moving as one. It made it easy for him to see what was going wrong and how he needed to fix it, and he did so every time, with precision.

If he does this with his company, how would it feel if he did this with sex?

Another shudder worked its way down my spine.

If I told him what I wanted, would he give it to me? Would he judge me the way one-night-stand guy had?

You know he wouldn’t.

He’d asked me if I’d wanted to be forced into the kiss, which presumably meant he didn’t have a problem with doing so. And if he didn’t have a problem with doing that, perhaps he wouldn’t have a problem with other things…

I swallowed, my mouth dry, a pulse of hunger going through me.

Perhaps that’s why I didn’t want to ask him for those things. Because I knew he’d give them to me and then I’d have to confront the reality of my own dark fantasies.

The lights of the city twinkled beyond the glass, a reminder that life was going on outside the four walls of my flat. Life that, if I wasn’t careful, would pass me by.

I didn’t want it to pass me by. I didn’t want to wait until my leave was approved or find myself another man. Not when Ulysses was offering me what I wanted now.

My doorbell buzzer went off, jolting me.

It would be Ulysses. He was nothing if not punctual.

My heartbeat went into overdrive as I moved into my tiny lounge area and over to the intercom, my dry mouth going even drier. I was really going to do this, wasn’t I?

My fingers shook as I pressed the button. ‘Ulysses?’

‘Yes.’ His deep, cold voice seem to fill my entire flat. ‘I said I’d be fifteen minutes. Do you need me to provide you with some ID?’

‘ID?’ For a second I had no idea what he was talking about.

‘You have no security in this building.’ He sounded appalled. ‘I could be anyone pressing this button.’

The offence in his voice made something tense inside me relax. It was such a Ulysses thing to say.

‘I know it’s you.’ I smiled a little. ‘I recognise your voice.’

‘Someone could have made their voice sound like me. There’s some very sophisticated software out there these days.’

‘Ulysses—’

‘I’ll make a note to get Everett onto it. You can’t be buzzing anyone up to your flat. In fact…’ He sounded as though he was leaning away from the speaker and looking around. ‘This whole building is an utter disgrace security-wise. It’s not good enough, Morgan.’ He sounded louder this time and three thousand times more offended. ‘You need to find somewhere safer.’

‘Since when have you ever been interested in the security of my flat?’

‘Since now,’ he snapped. ‘Are you going to buzz me up?’

‘I didn’t actually agree, you know,’ I reminded him, deciding he needed to have this pointed out. ‘I never said yes.’

‘Well, do you say yes now?’ he asked grumpily.

Amusement soothed my jangling nerves; he did so hate it when he’d made a mistake.

‘What would you do if I didn’t?’ Teasing him was wrong, since he didn’t like it. But I couldn’t help myself.

‘I’d go back to the office, of course.’ He sounded really annoyed now. ‘Stop wasting time, Morgan.’

I was wasting time. And putting off the moment when I said yes. Because I knew, as soon as I let him up into my flat, that would be it. My path would be chosen and there’d be no going back.

But I was already sick of myself and my nerves, so I reached out and hit the button that opened the downstairs door.

And that was when it struck me: I was standing there waiting for him dressed in a pair of my oldest and most comfortable pyjama bottoms, a very baggy and very thin T-shirt, my hair loose and no make-up whatsoever.

Super-sexy.

I debated making a run to the bedroom and finding some decent jeans, or something to wear instead of my PJs, but I hadn’t taken more than a step in that direction before the sound of knocking came from my front door.

Ulysses was already here.

Bugger it.

I took a breath then strode over to the front door and opened it.

And there he was, larger than life and twice as gorgeous, unbearably hot in the dark suit and crisp white shirt he’d been wearing earlier. He had on a red tie today and the splash of colour glowed jewel-bright against the white.

Red for passion, an inane part of my brain whispered to me as his dark gaze collided with mine.

‘There you are.’ His cold voice held a hot note I’d never heard him use before.

Then, before I could say another word, he strode in.

He didn’t pause to look around. He didn’t look around at all. He simply came for me as if I were a prize he’d been waiting for years to claim.

A hot thrill arrowed straight down my spine, a secret part of me finding his intensity unbearably exciting.

He came to a stop bare inches away, tall, dark and utterly compelling. ‘First,’ he said without preamble, ‘We need to discuss the rules.’

My brain had gone into free fall. He was so close, making me very aware of his height, reminding me of that kiss and the heat of his mouth. The clean, fresh bite of his aftershave wove around me, a sharp piny smell that made me think of forests freshly dusted with snow.

‘Rules?’ I echoed blankly. ‘What rules?’

‘It’s very important that we have ground rules and that we both agree on them.’ He frowned slightly. ‘Traffic lights.’

‘Traffic lights? What are you talking about?’

‘Green for “go”. Amber for “keep going but carefully”. Red for “stop”.’

‘I don’t…’

‘Sex,’ he explained. ‘If you don’t like something, say red and I’ll stop. Green for go. Amber for—’

‘Keep going but carefully. Yes, I get it.’ I swallowed, my face getting hot. ‘So we’re getting into it straight away? You don’t want a drink or something first?’

He gave me a look as if it was the strangest question he’d ever heard. ‘No, why would I?’

‘Some girls like a little romance, you know,’ I said tartly, nervous, but annoyed with myself for being nervous.

‘I don’t do romance, Morgan.’

Instantly, I felt bad, because something in his face shut down. Something that had been bright and hot, that I hadn’t realised was there until it had vanished.

Normally he wouldn’t let one of my snarky comments bother him, but he was clearly bothered now. And that told me something: he wanted this. He wanted me.

And I wanted him to want me.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I don’t need romance. I’m just…nervous.’

He regarded me, his black eyes cool. ‘Is that a red?’

‘No.’ I made it as certain as I could. ‘It’s not.’

‘If it’s a red, you need to be clear.’

Of course. If this was a big deal for me, then it was also a big deal for him. He couldn’t read cues easily, which made his need for rules understandable.

‘If it’s a red, you’ll stop,’ I said, less of a question and more a statement of fact.

‘Of course I’ll stop. That’s the whole point of rules. Everyone follows them.’

Which makes him the safest man you’ll ever be with.

The flash of realisation made me blink. Yes, he was safe. He’d never hurt me any way, and his emphasis on rules only cemented that fact.

Where would I find another man safe enough with whom to explore those rough sex fantasies of mine? A man I trusted enough to take care of me? Perhaps I’d never find one. Perhaps I’d never be able to explore the darker corners of my imagination, the forbidden desires I tried never to think about. The ones I barely admitted I wanted even to myself…

It’s him. Or no one.

I shuddered as the truth settled down inside me. And he saw, his black gaze piercing, the bright, hot thing I’d noticed in his eyes before igniting once again.

He took a step closer, now only inches away.

I caught my breath, his physical nearness hitting me like a blow. His height and the broad width of his chest were things I’d never consciously thought of before, but I was thinking about them now. And the heat of his body, warm stone on a hot summer’s day. He’d feel like that too. I knew it. If I put my hand on his chest, it would feel exactly like stone. Unyielding. I wouldn’t be able to push him away even if I wanted to.

He must have read my thoughts, I swear, because he took my hand, lifting it to his chest palm-down and holding it there.

Hot. He was so hot. I could feel that heat through the cotton of his business shirt. And so hard, too. I’d got that right. Exactly like warm stone.

My heartbeat was so loud I couldn’t hear anything else and I felt dizzy.

His gaze on me was an intense pressure. But I couldn’t meet it. Something would happen to me if I did, and I didn’t know what that something would be. I was afraid of it.

He didn’t say anything, only held my hand to his chest, his palm warm on my skin. Then his other hand was on my hip, sliding round to the small of my back, urging me closer, and my heartbeat got even faster. I tried to stand my ground, but he didn’t let me, his strength irresistible, drawing me relentlessly up against him.

I quivered with excitement at that strength, at being pulled to him, even though I tried to resist.

‘Look at me,’ he ordered, a hot, dark note vibrating in his voice. ‘Look at me, Morgan.’

I didn’t want to, afraid of how excited I was. Of how much this whole thing was turning me on.

But then I’d always been afraid of those desires inside me, the ones that made me desperate to be held by a strong man, to fight to get away and yet not be able to. To have him hold me effortlessly and easily and to be overwhelmed by him…

I didn’t want to know why I wanted those things. I didn’t want to know what it was about me that liked it.

You didn’t want life to pass you by. So don’t let it.

That was true. And I wasn’t a coward. I’d endured the fancy boarding school Damian had sent me to, then endured being sent halfway across the world to a city I’d never been to, to do a job I didn’t know anything about, working for a man I’d never met.

And now here was an opportunity to explore something about myself that I’d never had the chance to before. With a man who wouldn’t judge me and who’d keep me safe. Why was I even hesitating?

I lifted my chin and met Ulysses’s gaze.

Blacker than pitch. The kind of black that had weight and heat. Heavy, dense. But not cold. No, not cold any longer.

Still looking down at me, he took one hand in his, then the other one that was resting on his chest, and then, with that same relentless, irresistible strength, he drew them behind my back and held them there, restraining me with pathetic ease.

And he watched me the whole time as my heartbeat accelerated through the roof.

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