Page 87 of Keep Him Like Secrets

Though now that he’d seen me damn near every day for two weeks in my usual jeans and leggings and tees, I wasn’t sure how convincing I was in my stupid black slacks and black silk blouse with my hair pulled back in a low pony that made me feel like a founding father.

But when I was visiting Soren’s office, I had to look the part of Saff Amato, businesswoman. Not the girl who was enthusiastically—and sometimes gymnastically—screwing her partner.

I resisted the urge to tug at my collar as the doors slid open to the floor.

There was Teresa, looking much more natural in a similar outfit—though hers was in an elevated beige color—than I ever could.

“Miss Amato,” she greeted me. “Nice to see you again.”

I wasn’t entirely convinced she meant that.

A tingle moved up my spine.

But even as I racked my brain, I couldn’t think of a single reason she would be disingenuous. I mean, I hadn’t even seen her in weeks.

Maybe I was just being suspicious, seeing and hearing things that weren’t there.

“You too. I’m late again, aren’t I?”

“You’re on time. They were early,” she said, nodding toward the conference room where Soren and our lawyers were waiting. “Just between you and me, leave it to a man to miss an entire folder that was sitting right in front of him, right?” she asked, rolling her eyes.

Soren and I needed to be back at the office because his attorney had somehow accidentally forgotten to get us to sign an entire folder of paperwork that had to do with the club.

“And for his female assistant to be the one to notice,” I agreed.

“I know that’s right. I’ll grab you a coffee,” she said as we parted at the doorway.

Seeing me, Soren rose to his feet. And the lawyers were quick to do so before Soren could scold them again.

Soren glanced at me, his gaze tracking down my body. When his eyes made it back to my face, the light was dancing in them and a smile was hiding in the corners of his mouth. Like he knew how much I hated my outfit. Like he agreed it didn’t suit me.

“Miss Amato,” he greeted me, holding out a hand to the chair beside him.

“Again, I’m very sorry about all this,” Soren’s lawyer said, looking appropriately uncomfortable at his blunder as he passed paperwork to Soren. “This should be over quickly.”

Soren reached for his pen to sign, but his free hand slid under the table to rest on my knee.

Neither of us realized Teresa had approached until she was right beside us. Soren snatched his hand back, but judging by the tightness in Teresa’s jaw, not before her keen eyes had seen.

“Thank you,” I mumbled at the coffee set before me, but I couldn’t quite make any eye contact with her.

As promised, it was a quick, painless process. Even if being close to Soren not only brought up the desire that I could always count on when near him, but the much more alarming warm, tightening sensation in my chest that I was stubbornly refusing to acknowledge.

Because I knew that if I did, I would have to put a name to it. And that name was very, very dangerous.

Eventually, the lawyers excused themselves, and Soren and I moved to walk toward the door.

Oblivious to Teresa’s gaze on us, he moved right in behind me, leaning down to my ear to speak.

“I’m getting home at ten. I want you in my bed, naked, and ready for me,” he said, making my sex clench hard. “Got it?” he asked, and that little reminder of his occasional dominance had me damn near whimpering.

“Yes.” Then, summoning more professionalism. “Let me know if you have any updates on the club,” I said, walking on stiff, awkward legs toward the elevator.

“Hold that door,” Teresa called. “I’m going down too.”

I had no choice but to throw my arm out and stop the doors from closing. Even if my stomach was dropping and that cool sliver moved down my spine again.

“Thanks,” Teresa said, even giving me a smile.

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