Vindictive Heir - Page 22

“It was me.” My voice dies away. I can’t breathe. He’s waiting. My body shakes of its own accord. “I-I lost his receipts,” I whisper. Addler glares down at me. Tears sting my eyes, but I can’t cry in front of him. I blink rapidly, turning away as I swallow back a sob.

“Go on,” he says in a steely voice, not letting up on his hold.

“I grabbed the receipts he left on his desk when you showed up yesterday and took them home. Daisy, my mom’s pup, got into the bag.” I glance up in a wordless plea for understanding. “It was thir—” I swallow, trying to keep from throwing up. “Thirty thousand dollars…in expenses.”

If anything, his expression grows darker. This man is a cold bastard, not the Addler I grew up with. The one who teased me, filling every sentence with innuendo. The one I fantasized about kissing.

Once upon a time, I thought he was asking me out…until Marcy burst out laughing, making me feel like a fool over something that could clearly never happen. Addler was part of the popular crowd, having at least a couple of cheerleaders trailing behind him at all times. I quashed that piece of me that wanted him for what little time we had left until the end of the school year.

“It was me. Not him,” I say in a rush. “You can’t fire Bill over this. You can’t—”

“Ya,” he snaps, startling me into silence. “I make my own decisions, Elena.”

“Sorry.” I shut my mouth, drowning in feelings of helplessness and inadequacy. Part of me expects him to shove me out the door in disgust. If he does, I’ll have a long walk back to the office, and it’ll be dark before I get there.

“What else am I going to find in there?” He nods toward my laptop.

My shoulders droop as I accept the inevitable. I should have expected him to figure out something was wrong. He always has.

“There’s a mess with the coding.” Although my voice is barely a whisper, every word cuts out a piece of my soul. I’m betraying the only man who’s ever meant anything to me.

“Why?”

“Bill was tied up with Isabela when she got sick.” I close myself off, staring at the buttons on his shirt. My confession could be someone else uttering the damning words. “His admin didn’t know what she was doing and didn’t bother to ask. When he found out, he fired her and brought me in to fix it.” And look what I’ve done…

“What else?”

The hard edge to his words should have made me jump, but I can only shake my head. “Just a billing nightmare.” The sense of betrayal is overwhelming. I never thought I would be the reason for Bill’s downfall. I failed him, both in a professional manner and a personal one.

“And you’re looking at trying to fix this after hours. That’s why you were late,” he says, coming to the right conclusion, as always.

I lower my gaze, nodding. Then his words sink in. Looking at? My breath stalls. Does that mean there’s still a chance? I glance up, caught somewhere between despair and hope. Grasping at the possibility. “Yes.”

His gaze bores into mine, as if he’s trying to see what’s going through my mind.

“If there’s any way…” I plead, hoping the man, or boy, I knew is still somewhere in there. “I’ll do whatever I need to do to fix this.” Seconds tick by. My pulse kicks up until I’m ready to scream for him to say something.

“Stay the weekend,” he says, his voice losing the hard edge.

“What?” My gaze goes from one of his eyes to the other. I’m not sure I understood right because my mind took a dive straight into the gutter. He can’t mean what I’m thinking. My gaze strays to his mouth. No, I can’t go there.

“You heard me,” he says dispassionately. “You spend the weekend with me. No saying no. And I’ll consider talking about this again on Monday.”

My breath rushes across my bottom lip. I clamp my mouth closed. Stay the weekend? Friday. Saturday. Sunday. Well, today is mostly gone, but… “Me?” I ask, incredulous.

“You. Your brain.” His gaze moves down my face. “Your body.”

“You’re kidding.” My voice is filled with wonder. I wait for the punchline as Marcy’s long-ago laughter rings in my head.

“Take it or leave it.”

“You’re serious.” My brain can’t process what’s happening. Am I asleep, dreaming of seeing Addler in the morning? Yes? No? It’s the only explanation that fits.

“Oh, you’ll still clean up this fucking mess,” he says, assuring me of what needs to be done. “In between fucking.”

He does mean what I’m thinking. I should be horrified, hyperventilating, fainting, or something, considering the plan he’s laid out. Somehow, I’m not. There’s too much at stake here. Job equals medical insurance for Bill and Isabela, unemployment equals disaster. Finding a decent job in this economy, at his age, in a small town, isn’t going to happen anytime soon, if ever.

I can’t bring myself to say it, though, so I nod. Marcy’s laughter rings in my mind for the millionth time. It’s a mocking reminder of my foolishly daydreaming about a good-night kiss that never happened. “But I’m not kissing you, Addler,” I manage, barely above a whisper.

His lips stretch into what can only be described as a devilish smile. “And that’s the last no you’ll be allowed.”

Allowed. My brain balks at the implication. I don’t know Addler well enough to anticipate what I’m in for when he says fucking. Again, I don’t have much of an option. I push down the concern welling inside me and give him a tentative nod. “Okay.”

His hand goes into my hair, cupping the back of my head to tilt me up and away. The power in his grasp is unnerving. I can do this. But as he leans in, the chemistry between us sparks. Every one of my senses hones in on him. Lord, I can’t even take a breath without having him own it.

My nipples peak, and my whole upper body vibrates for what feels like an eternity. Most disturbing of all is the liquid heat between my legs. I’m horrified that he’s going to find out this happens to me. It shouldn’t, not over him.

I shut my eyes, intent on gathering my thoughts, my emotions. Only it’s a thousand times worse when his lips reach the spot behind my ear. The sensation rocks me to the core, and I all but melt where I’m standing.

Tags: Sahara Roberts Billionaire Romance
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