No, bees. Actually, more like wasps, mean and aggressive, buzzing through my belly at the thought of walking into Fox this morning, bypassing my usual desk, and heading for the elevator. I imagine everyone’s eyes on me as I walk down the hallway toward Colton’s office, whispering behind their hands at Daniel’s traitorous daughter.

This isn’t the usual happy sensation when I’m about to crush a dare. Not anticipation. This is dread. Not excitement. This is fear.

“I can’t do this.” The blurt is unconscious but true. “I’m just going to go to my desk like usual and deal with any fallout. You said it yourself. Colton’s not going to fire me. He’ll have to explain why he didn’t do something right away, and he won’t do that.”

I glance in the rearview mirror to see Tiffany watching me through guarded eyes. I don’t like that. She’s always pretty open and filter-less.

My mind keeps spinning. My mouth keeps running.

“Or he could just go to Dad, bypass anything official because he damn well knows that’d be worse to me. Shit. He’s right, rock and hard place. I could hit him in his hard place with a rock, see if he’d like that.”

“Snarky is not an attractive look on you,” Tiff ventures, not commenting on my solo encore performance of last night’s argument.

Her silence ironically reminds me why I’d decided to go along with this whole crazy idea in the first place.

I picture Colton staring out the window over the city, cutting a powerful silhouette but confessing to wanting a bit of excitement. I picture the heat in his eyes as he scanned the photocopy of my ass and the considerable bulge I know I saw in his slacks, no matter how much he tried to hide it.

“I’m doing it.” This dare isn’t done yet, but it will be. And suddenly, I can’t wait.

Chapter 9

Elle

This is . . . crazy.

And isn’t that why you like it? the devil on my shoulder asks.

He has Tiffany’s voice. Yes, he. And yes, Tiffany’s voice. It doesn’t make sense, but I’ve long since grown used to it.

How am I going to pull this off? Walking down the corridor of the fifth floor, I realize that I’ve got thirty minutes, tops, before Dad knows what’s happened.

At which point, I have no idea how to explain myself.

But I walk into Colton’s outer office, where he’s perched on the corner of an empty desk, chatting with Helen, who gives me a glance.

“Mr. Wolfe?”

“Hello, Miss Stryker. This way,” Colton says, standing up and walking into his office. As I follow him, I can’t help but admire the way his ass fills out his fresh suit pants, black today but not funereal. Instead, he looks powerful and magnetic, and when he looks back over his shoulder, he totally catches me checking him out. I can tell by the amused twitch of his lips. I can even smell him, his masculine cologne woodsy and smoky, a combination that makes me think of naked camping trips even though I’ve never been an outdoorsy girl. “I’m glad to see you this morning.”

His tone is all business, no teasing banter and zero flirtation. To anyone listening in, it’d seem strictly professional. But I’m already better at reading him, seeing behind the cold and stoic façade. There are flames licking along my skin, lit by the heat of his gaze. I make a mental note to thank Tiffany again for the wardrobe assist last night because apparently, she did right by me.

“It took me a lot of thought, to be honest.”

“Good,” Colton says, smiling a little. “Being thoughtful and intentional about your career is always an admirable trait.”

Scratch that, maybe I’m not so good at reading him because I can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic. He knows that my appearance here is a total give in to him, and it pisses me off that I’ve done it. It pisses me off even more that he’s likely enjoying it. But I decide to take it at face value for now as he continues.

“There’s going to be a lot demanded of you, and that means I want you all in, starting now. We’ll begin with the rules.”

“Rules?” I bristle automatically at the word, the cage it invokes.

Colton nods, taking a file folder off his desk and handing it to me. I’m pretty sure there’s a flash of something in his expression, though. Curiosity, perhaps? His brows did jump ever so slightly. Cocky arrogance for sure in the smirky purse of his lips. Why are they both so attractive?

“You’re no longer working a straight nine to five, where the most secretive thing you deal with is which floors like which flavor of doughnuts.” He grins and gestures to the file. “Read it over, and if you want to discuss any of my rules, now is the time.”

The list of rules inside the folder is pretty straightforward, I’m surprised to find. I guess I expected something a bit more salacious given our arrangement.

I’m moving to salary, with a nice bump in pay, and while it might be normal, one thing sticks out. “Don’t share information outside of this team, Mr. Wolfe?”

“Let’s be honest. Mr. Fox has built this company by often having teams compete against each other to fuel the creative juices, so to speak. If I have an advantage over another team, I don’t want to give up that advantage. As I said before, your placement on my HQ2 team will send a message and I'm doing that intentionally. But I need to guard against your loyalties being divided. I will not have you working for me and helping your father on the sly. Am I understood?”

I nod and Colton continues. "I believe myself to be a good judge of character, and while you are rather unconventional . . .” His lips do that twitchy thing that I’m beginning to think means he’s laughing on the inside. “You are morally just. I presume that has to come at least partially from good parenting and that Daniel will respect your loyalty to my team as well. If not, by signing this contract, you’ll have a ready argument against disclosing anything private. This is to make it easier for me to trust you and easier for you to stay trustworthy.”

He pauses, looking at me expectantly.

“Understood, sir.”

His eyes flare wide, and bright sparks light in the deep blue so fast that if I hadn’t been watching, I would’ve missed it. A dark, delicious knowledge twines around in my core. He likes my calling him sir. I’m not into anything too wild, shocking, considering my daredevil tendencies, but with Rule Two always in place, my sex life has been pretty . . . typical, I’d say.

But if he’d rather me call him sir than honey, I could be into that. I tuck the knowledge away for when it’ll be most useful because every card I can stack in my deck against this man is going to be important.

“Any other questions?”

“So many . . .” I drawl out. “But for another time, Mr. Wolfe.”

“Good. First things first. Arrange with Helen to have a desk brought in for you.” He points to the corner of the room, by the window, at least.

"You intend to have your assistant work in your private office?” I say incredulously, hoping he hears just how outlandishly ridiculous that sounds. He might as well be telling everyone from the front door to Mr. Fox’s office that I’m at his every beck and call. It won’t take long for those water-cooler conversations to tack on that I’m doing so on my knees.