From the hardness of his jaw, he certainly doesn’t.
“I don’t know what to believe,” I tell him honestly, with a slight wobble in my voice.
“And you’re willing to take the chance this isn’t real?” he asks, but doesn’t give me the opportunity to answer. “What if it is? What if this person comes after you and does God knows what? What then, Poppy? You don’t take chances like that, ever.”
The fierceness of his words and the way his body is locked tight has my anxiety growing. His eyes blaze so hot there’s not much green left in them. He’s scaring me, but I’m not sure if it’s from his reaction to the situation or the reality of it. I’ve watched TV shows and movies where the female disregards threats, thinking it’s fun and games for some asshole or young punk, then ends up being tortured or raped. You never think that it could happen to you, but some of those shows are based on real life stories.
All the color drains from my face when I realize I could be one of those women. I could be the next innocent female with her body found in a ditch somewhere. Then I think of Sterling, and the possibility of him being one of those men that does sick things to women. My chest gets tight at the thought. I don’t want to think of him like that, and I really don’t think he is, but in reality, there’s no way for me to know.
I drop my eyes from Asher’s intense green ones. My fingers are starting to cramp from twisting the strap on my purse. I loosen my grip and notice the leather now has creases in it. It’s a shame. This purse is one of my favorites. I try to smooth it out, but it doesn’t work.
Asher’s voice breaks into my unimportant thoughts.
“I’m texting you over a phone number and cell phone company name,” Asher says to whomever he’s talking to on his phone. “Break into the cell company’s system and see if you can find out who the last private number was from the last text message.” He’s silent for several seconds, listening. Then, “I don’t give a fuck. Make it priority. I want this person’s info by this evening.”
He doesn’t say good-bye, just hangs up his phone and begins to fiddle with it, I assume sending the person my information, before setting it down on his jacket.
He’s quiet for several minutes as he looks forward. He’s grinding his teeth together and his nostrils flare each time he exhales. The hands that are on his thighs are still balled into tight fists. I can see the pulse in his neck hammering away.
I watch him, confused at his reaction. Why is he so upset about this? He looks like he’s having to physically restrain himself from losing control. I understand he may be worried; I’m his employee, after all. Any decent boss would be worried about their employee if they received a threatening message like I just did. But his reaction seems to be extreme and over-the-top. It’s also sending a warm feeling straight to my stomach. I like that he’s so concerned about me.
I take a calming breath before I ask him, “Who was that?”
The eyes that slide my way almost has me shrinking back further in my seat. He must sense my apprehension, because he takes control and relaxes his features. The look is still there, but not as profound. He closes his eyes for a second and opens them again.
“That was Eric. It may not seem like a big deal to you, Poppy, but I’m not taking that chance. We’ll find the ass who sent that message.” He pins me with a look. “And if you get anymore, you need to let me know.”
I shiver at the vehemence in his voice. This side of Asher appears dangerous. He’s not the controlled businessman sitting here in this car with me; this is a complete stranger. One that’s making my insides cringe while also making my body tingle. I thought businessman Asher was attractive, but this protective Asher is ten times more so.
And someone really needs to check my temperature, because I shouldn’t be having these thoughts under these circumstances. Or ever, really.
“Why do you care so much?” I ask, ignoring his demand. I haven’t decided yet if I’ll tell him if I get more. Dread seeps in at the thought of getting another.
For a split second, his eyes drop to my lips, and before I can stop myself, my tongue peeks out to lick them. He closes his eyes briefly and scrubs his hands down his face before looking at me again.
“I think you know the answer to that, Poppy.”
His voice is low and husky. I swear it feels like a caress every time he says my name. I love the way it sounds coming from his lips. I want to reach up and feel the vibrations in his throat when he says it.
I shake my head, denying his claim. I don’t know the answer because he can’t be implying what I think he is. It’s not possible. I’m his assistant, and he’s never shown interest. Yes, I’ve noticed his appreciative eyes on me lately, but it’s never been anything more than that. For him to imply that there’s something more is preposterous.
However, the look in his eyes right now says otherwise. He looks like he’s undressing me in his mind and wants to devour every inch he reveals. The look is carnal and one I’ve never seen from him before. My body’s reaction to it says it wants to be part of whatever he’s fantasizing about—desperately. He has his elbow against the door and his thumb is rubbing back and forth on his bottom lip, which is currently quirked up into a smirk. I watch, mesmerized by the little action and wonder what that smirk would taste like.
The car jerks to a stop, bringing me out of the sexual haze he has me in. I force my gaze elsewhere when I remember Sterling, guilt eating away at me. I shouldn’t be thinking about another man, even if it is a man I’ve fantasized about before. I may not know Sterling and still harbor some doubts about him, but I do care about him in a way. I still feel loyal to him. He brings out a side of me I never knew existed, a side that I’m growing to like and wish to explore more of.
I don’t look when Asher hands me my phone. I’ve got too many emotions whirling around in my head, and I worry he’ll see them. When the door opens, he slides from the car. I take my time slipping my phone in my purse, before a hand appears inside the car. I look at it a moment, swallow through my dry throat, and slide across the seat. The hairs on my arm stand up when I place my hand in Asher’s warm one and he helps me from the car.
I still don’t look at him. I turn toward the hotel as he speaks to the driver. It’s absolutely gorgeous, and much nicer than anything I’ve ever stayed in before. I look down at my clothes and wrinkle my nose. They may be nice, but not fancy like this hotel.
I feel a hand at my back right above my butt and I’m ushered forward. I sneak a glance at Asher and immediately look forward again when I see him doing the same. His hand at my back twitches, and I swear it moves down an inch.
I stumble, but before I can do a face-plant, Asher catches me.
“Everything all right?” he asks, watching me curiously.
“Yes,” I mumble with embarrassment. “It must be the heat getting to me.”
He stays quiet, but nods and guides me over a black and white checkered marble floor, past the elaborate check-in desk, and straight to a single elevator.