Page 18 of Breaking His Law

Shoving my hands into the pockets of my dress pants, I steady myself before turning back to face my beautiful nightmare.

Why the hell is the woman who spent the night in my bed and ranted about how much shehateslawyers now sitting in my goddamn boardroom like she owns the place? Acting like she’s my fucking secretary or something. And why can’t I stop looking at her? I don’t get it. I don’t want to get it. But damn, she’s beautiful.

“Explain,” I shout, the words ripping out of me far louder than I mean, and I can see her flinch—her face turning a shade of white proving I’ve crossed a line.

I didn’t mean to sound so harsh, not with her.

Arianna replies but she’s so quiet I don’t hear what she says.

“Speak up,” I urge, because she sure as hell didn’t hold back when she was screaming my name the other night.

Crestfallen, she bows her head and shakes it. “I started working here today but as a records clerk.”

“What the fuck are you doing in the boardroom then?” I snap, clenching my fists tight inside my pockets.

“I’m here to take the minutes. I was the only person available.”

I hate that she isn’t looking at me, when all I want is to feel her eyes on me. “Look at me,” I demand.

When her eyes hit mine, she looks terrified, but screw it, she should be because she’s irritated me and whether she likes it or not she’s no longer in my personal space but in my place of business. I never mix the two.

This is Hart territory, and I own this fucking firm.

My laws, my way.

“Did you know who I was the other night?” I ask, irritated with myself for being too captivated by her to see through her honeytrap. She must have.

“Yes,” she replies, sounding stronger, her brows furrowing, as if she’s as confused about our situation as I am. Or maybe she’s regretting what happened between us.

At least she told the truth, but her honesty irks me more than I care to admit.

Was I a premeditated target? I need to know.

“Was it a happy accident that you were in the bar I sometimes drink at on Friday night or was that part of some screwed-up plan to bed the boss?” Something I have always avoided; I don’t make a mess in my own backyard. That’s something my brothers have never agreed with me on.

“Bed the boss?” She screws her face up as if she just licked a thistle, sounding appalled by my accusation. “I already had the job. Trust me, I do not need to sleep my way into a position,and you were not someone I was expecting to bump into. My job here is to work in records as a clerk and I am guessing you have dozens of staff to run around after you to fetch records, so I was never expecting to see you. I genuinely didn’t think our paths would cross. Records is in the basement, and you are up here on the top floor. There was never any possibility of seeing each other again. And I most definitely would not have come looking for you.”

In my head I had accepted we were perfect strangers, and now it seems that isn’t the case. If I knew she was here working for me, I would’ve sought her out because since Saturday morning all I’ve wanted to do is see her again. Although I can’t make any sense of why I would want to do that.

She keeps blurting out more words I can’t stand. “Sleeping with you was a mistake, one I’ve regretted ever since. It was a lapse in judgment, and I promise you it won’t happen again.”

Itcan’thappen. Not now she works for me.

And it was never a mistake.

She’s lying to me and herself.

Working under the same roof as her every day will be a massive fucking problem for me, and my dick. It’s also going to be difficult to focus given I now know what she tastes like: sweeter than sugar. And the things she can do with that smartass mouth of hers; it makes my dick hard just thinking about it.

It stings that she feels remorseful about sleeping with me so I’m spiteful when I bite back. “I’m sorry you made themistakeof falling onto my cock and riding it all night.” My voice sounds sinister and drips with sarcasm. “You and I both know it wasn’t a mistake. You wanted me as much as I wanted you.”

Her cheeks fill with color. “I never expected to like you as much as I did.”

She likes me?

“Because you hate lawyers?” I ask.

She closes the laptop then holds it against her chest as if trying to use it to protect herself. “Only some of them.” Her top lip curls up in disgust.

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