Page 18 of By His Rule

“Rebecca, you’re needed upstairs.” Instantly, she hops to her feet, clutching her tablet to her chest. “I’ll take over, make sure Martin here makes the right decision about his future assistant.”

Before I have a chance to register what he just said, Rebecca is gone and Kian is lowering his suited body into her seat.

He pops open the button on his jacket before getting comfortable.

I can’t see because of the table separating us, but I just know that his pants stretch over his thick thighs in a way that should be illegal. It’s one of many things I remember from our brief interaction at Tate and King’s wedding.

“So, Miss Tempest,” he says, commanding my attention without any effort.

Despite knowing better, my gaze immediately lifts to his.

I suck in a sharp gasp the second our eyes connect. My hazel to his green.

Amusement and wicked intent flicker in his, and my stomach knots.

I’m about to pay for that stunt I played at the wedding.

“Can you explain to us why you were able to attend an interview here at such short notice? You are currently employed, correct?”

My eyes narrow.

Fucking asshole.

“No, Mr Callahan. My employment recently came to an end.”

“Ah, I see,” he muses, relaxing back in his seat and rubbing his chin.

He already knows the truth.

“I haven’t been happy there for some time. I always felt underappreciated for what I did.”

“Okay, but surely that’s not the reason you were fired, was it, Miss Tempest?”

“It’s Lorelei,” I correct. I hate being called the same name as my mother. It’s one of the biggest reminders of where I come from. Of all the reasons I don’t fit in here. “And no, that wasn’t the reason. There was a misunderstanding, which led to my employment being terminated.”

I slam my lips shut, refusing to say any more.

That’s not enough for Kian, though.

His eyes hold mine firmly, silently demanding that I continue talking, that I effectively tank my own interview.

Was turning him down really that much of a crime?

I guess it’s true what they say; no woman dares to turn down a Callahan.

He smirks. “Please could you elaborate on the details of that...misunderstanding?”

I don’t say anything. Instead, I keep my lips closed and bite down on the inside of them, forcing myself to remain silent.

“I understand it’s uncomfortable, Miss Tempest,” he explains, still refusing to use my name as I requested, “but I’m sure you can comprehend that we need to know the details if we’re going to consider the possibility of employing you.”

Acid swirls in my stomach.

He might already know the truth, but that doesn’t make having to say the words out loud any easier.

Our stand-off continues, the atmosphere in the room growing thicker and thicker as Martin continues to look between us.

Knowing that I need to put an end to this charade so I can leave and pretend it never happened, I release my lips and let the truth spill free.

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