Page 23 of The Heart of Winter

Okay. That last one… well, no one had any doubts about that. Though they didn’t really know me.

I pulled a polite, equally professional smile onto my face and said,

"Thank you for this opportunity, Director Nolan. I’ll do my best to fulfill my responsibilities."

I almost laughed at how stiff that sounded. Like we were both actors in a play, reciting lines we didn’t believe in.

For some reason, my gaze shifted across his face, lingering on it a moment longer. On his lips.

On that lonely island—something other than cold, whiteness, and pallor.

Ah, they were soft, very pleasantly defined lips! As if they belonged to a completely different person, with a wholly different character. Pouty, sensual lips, and though it seems absurd, for a brief moment, I imagined myself leaning in and kissing them. Haha… they felt plush, responsive, parting, and I could taste that sweetness.

Another funny association with ice cream came to my mind. It’s cold, but when you touch it with your lips, it turns out to be sweet.

I barely held back a smile because it was so absurd, surreal! After all, I would never kiss him; I’d probably freeze like I was touching liquid nitrogen.

Fighting off a wave of dark humor, I had to tighten the muscles in my face to stop my lips from spreading into a smile, but I failed. Winter seemed to notice, his strange white eyebrows narrowing slightly.

"Is something amusing you, Mr. Lowen?" he said in that flat tone of his.

"No, absolutely nothing. I’m just happy to be starting work. I hope we’ll have a good working relationship, Director."

Yep, he sensed something. Strange, I knew he could sniff out my dark-humored approach.

"Are we gonna have a problem here, Lowen?" His tone was like the crack of an ice whip. It froze me, and I swallowed hard.

He stood up, and I flinched slightly, not expecting the movement. It felt almost foreign, unnatural. Winter seemed more suited to sitting on his icy throne like an elven ruler rather than pacing around the desk, which he proceeded to do.

Even though he was three inches shorter than me, I didn’t feel taller at all, quite the opposite. The director had a presence, something solid and immovable. Probably worked out a lot… He stepped closer.

"You see, Lowen, I know the kind of attitude boys born with a silver spoon in their mouths tend to have. Like they can get away with anything. Because Daddy will always fix it for them. They can be as cocky, as arrogant as they want, because one day, they’ll be the ones calling the shots." His eyes narrowed. "That’s exactly why I didn’t want you in my department. A ticking time bomb, ready to explode and tear apart my well-functioning team. A spoiled little prince who’d strut around, knowing he’d never face consequences. If that’s how you plan to act, turn around right now, march back to your father’s office, and tell him I’m resigning. I won’t work with a spoiled brat."

I stared at him, mouth slightly open.

This guy seriously hated me. Big time.

The intensity of it hit me like a thousand white icicle needles piercing my skin. It hurt, damn it. Almost physically.

Actually, not almost, it really did hurt!

My chest tightened. My breath caught, I coughed, fighting for another breath, suddenly lightheaded. What the fuck…

Then, out of nowhere…

I saw myself on the floor, the HR beta leaning over me. The image was blurry at first, my brain taking a second to sharpen its focus. That’s when I noticed him.

Winter stood nearby, watching me, his face devoid of emotion.

"Everything okay?" he asked, his voice detached.

What the hell just happened? Did I faint?

The beta put an arm around me, helping me sit up.

"Uhh… yeah, low blood sugar," I lied, feeling like an idiot. Like a bug under someone’s shoe.

Didn’t I predict it?

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