Page 62 of Red King

Crap!

“Thanks.” I walk over to his office, smoothing my scrubs with one hand. Then I knock and walk in straight away, closing the door behind me.

Arctic is sitting at his desk, his laptop closed in front of him. It’s like, as Sally said, he’s been waiting for me to arrive. Surely not? Surely he has better things to do. He looks the picture of calm, when I am anything but. My cheeks feel warm, even though my insides feel cold. Despite not having eaten, my stomach feels like it is full of rocks and clenched tight like a fist. I feel completely out of sorts.

“You’re late,” he rasps.

“I apologize, I—” I stop talking for a moment so that I can gather my thoughts. “Actually, I’m not sorry at all. I almost didn’t come. I shouldn’t be here. I haven’t heard from Thorn, so I’m going to assume you didn’t tell him I’m reporting to him from here on out. I think it would be for the best if I reported to him. You and I should stay far away from one another going forward.”

“I disagree. Please take a seat. Or we could talk over there.” He gestures toward the couches to the side of his spacious office.

“Here is fine.” I feel better having a desk between us. “I am not going to sit. There isn’t much to discuss. Look, what happened happened. We won’t speak of it again. Let’s move on, and—”

“I don’t want to move on. I’ve thought long and hard about what happened in that closet, Paisley. I’m sure you have, too. The long and the short of it is that we’re attracted to each other.” He gestures again for the chair. “Please, can you at least sit down so that we can talk about what happened and about how we’re going to tackle it going forward? It can’t be ignored. And I don’t want to move on.”

I think Maggie might be right. I think he wants more.

Surely not!

Is Arctic crazy? Has he lost his marbles?

I make a noise of irritation and sit, perching on the edge of the chair.

“It doesn’t matter that we’re attracted to one another. You’re a candidate and my boss, and you’re the king.” I groan, covering my face with my hand. A few moments later, I remove it.

Arctic is smiling. The asshole is smiling.

“What are you doing? Why the smile? Stop it right now. This is no smiling matter.”

“I have a proposal for you.”

“A proposal? What kind of proposal?” I hold up a hand. “On second thoughts, I don’t want to hear it. The answer is no. A proposal is a terrible idea.”

He smiles, and it’s devastating. I hate him!

The smile quickly fades. “I haven’t so much as looked at another woman, let alone touched one, since my mate died. You would be the first. I’m not ignoring that. It’s a big deal.”

A big deal.

“So, now you want me to feel sorry for you, is that it? Well, I don’t. Okay, that’s not true; I do, but it isn’t going to influence me in any way. Just in case you haven’t noticed, I’m freaking out a little. I’m going to stop now.”

“I propose that we fuck.”

I almost choke on my spit. “Did you have a side of insane with your breakfast this morning?”

He laughs. “I’m serious, Paisley.” He turns serious, as if to prove a point. “I think we should fuck…and not just once.”

“No way.” I shake my head.

“We’re both trying to get over hardships. I see an innate sadness in you, Paisley. I know it because I see it in myself, too. We’re both grieving the loss of a loved one.”

“Except my loved one didn’t die; he chose to leave me. It’s very different.”

“In some ways, it’s worse. My Anya would never have chosen to leave me.” His eyes turn hazy. His whole expression morphs into a crushing sadness that I feel right down, deep in my bones.

“How long were you married?” he asks.

“Ten years.”

---