Page 13 of Camping with the Boss

“Where are we going?” I finally ask. Was this a bad idea? I don’t really know this guy.

“My office.”

“Why?” I ask before I can stop myself. I expect a snarky none-of-your-business response.

His eyes dart to mine for a heart-stopping second before he focuses back on the road. “There’s something I need to take care of before we go to the retreat.”

He pulls into a private parking garage of a tall, sleek building made of metal and glass. It’s gorgeous. Impressive. Maybe not by New York standards, but for a building in St. Louis, Missouri, it’s pretty damn fancy.

It’s too much. Knowing this man is a billionaire and experiencing it are two different things. The car. The building. Wade Darian is a CEO in charge of his own company. And then I spiral as I agonize over everything. My tiny house with my worn couch. Kitchen cabinets made by my dad twenty years ago. His house is probably five times as big and a million times fancier. And the things I said to him. Every bit of it adds up and my face burns with humiliation.

I stare out the window, trying to calm down and absently cataloging the other expensive cars we drive past: Lexus. Mercedes. BMW. Mr. Darian parks and turns off the vehicle. It’s humid and stuffy…maybe that will explain my blotchy red face. I don’t need to look in the mirror to know. Some people blush prettily. I do not.

The leather squeaks as he shifts. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I attempt a smile and fan my face with the collar of my shirt. “It’s a little hot.”

I’m aware of him next to me. The undeniable attraction of Wade Darian and the words “who’s a good boy” on repeat in my head wreak havoc on my libido. And now I’m burning up for an entirely different reason.

He clears his throat.Shit.Can he tell? My heart thumps loudly as I wait for him to call me on how weird I’m being. But he doesn’t. Instead, he opens his door. “Let’s go.”

The interior of the building is just as elegant as the exterior. Mr. Darian’s shoes click on the dark floor as he walks confidently ahead of me down a wide hallway with light features that highlight the rich décor. In contrast, my sneakers squeak. I tried to walk quietly, but it doesn’t help, and now I’m walking like a duck. A woman in a blue suit passes us, greeting Mr. Darian and staring at me.

He glances over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

My face bursts into flames. “Nothing.”

He studies me a moment longer, then leads the way to the fanciest elevator I’ve ever seen. Silver and black with a bigDEin the middle that splits when it swooshes open. Once inside, Mr. Darian uses a key card to access the floor he wants. It barely feels like we’re moving as the elevator takes us up. And up.

“Why are we here?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Again with the questions.”

“Maybe you should try answering?”

His eyes pin me in place, and I’m suddenly aware of how much space he inhabits. His warm, musky scent surrounds me, making me dizzy and disoriented. Or is that the lack of blood flow since it’s all escaped to my dick. “The VP of the company wants to meet you before signing off on you replacing River.”

My stomach gives an unattractive lurch, and I swallow. No throwing up in the fancy elevator. My pale reflection stares at me with a panicked gaze. I shut my eyes and take a centering breath.

“Problem?”

I shake my head and then my hands. I can do this. I glance upand upat him. Even now, I can’t hold in a snarky reply. “I thought you were the CEO of this place. You still need to get permission?”

His eyes darken and he closes the space between us, his lips pressed tightly together. Oops. “You have me all figured out, Canyon. I’m a horrible boss. An egomaniac who runs his company the way he wants. Except you’re forgetting one thing. Do you know what that is?”

My lips are so dry I lick them without thinking. “No.”

“Companies are run by boards. Boards that answer to stakeholders. It’s not this one-man-rules-all thing you’ve built up in your head.” This close, his body is like a magnet pulling me in. I lick my lips again. Mesmerized by his strong jaw. The lone freckle on the column of his neck.

Confusion and something hot flashes in his eyes as his gaze drops to my mouth.

Holy shit. I can’t breathe. He swallows, and I want to lick his Adam’s apple, nip at the freckle on his neck?—

The doors swoosh open, and we jump apart. My heart is beating fast in a way that normally has me panicked. Thankfully, no one’s in the hallway. Mr. Darian straightens and tugs on his collar. Then he marches out of the elevator as if the last five minutes never happened.

My legs are still shaky as I follow him through the smaller, more intimate lobby. Are these the private offices of upper management?

Has River been here? He must have been if he was working with Mr. Darian.

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