Page 18 of Consumed By You
Google does nothing to help my nerves. As soon as I type in his name, hundreds of articles arise showcasing his many short-lived rendezvous with rich actresses and models, all stunningly beautiful.
Benjamin Scott is the ultimate catch. He’s kind, gorgeous, giving, successful. Who wouldn’t want a fleeting dalliance with him?
Me. That’s who. He’d destroy me for all other men. I’d become a mewling ailurophile who watches soaps for the rest of my life if he just used me and left me like that. I couldn’t care less about the dinners or the theater. I just wanthim.
I slam the computer shut, unable to look at it any longer, and climb into my bed with the intent to start anew tomorrow.
I’m tossing and turning restlessly when a loud knock raps at my door. I sit up, moving the covers aside. Silent as a mouse, I creep across the cold wood floor to look through the peephole in my front door, knowing that it’s far too late for the usual visitor.
“Who is it?”
“Benjamin.”
No.
My mouth hangs in horrified disbelief and I look around frantically at my one-room apartment, my bed right next to the kitchen. I’m in my ugly sweatpants and baggy rock t-shirt PJs. What the hell is he doing here?
With a grunt, I unbolt the heavy door, swinging it open to reveal my surprisingly anxious boss. He’s in dark jeans and a blue V-neck shirt. The casual combination looks absolutely and completely mouthwatering on him. God, he could wear anything and he’d be beautiful.
And here I am, looking a mess in a small, crappy apartment.
“May I come in? I’m sorry it’s so late. I saw your light on.” I step aside and he enters, looking around at my living space. “It’s…cozy.”
“It suits me fine,” I respond, looking anywhere but at him.
“I like this.” He points to my library of books that take up a whole wall. “I guess you really weren’t kidding when you said you read day and night.”
My dreamy boss is in my apartment at two in the morning looking at my collection of books. Is this a dream? It has to be.
He scans a row of them and I wonder again why the hell he’s here.
“Can I get you something to drink? I’m afraid my wine is not as good as the restaurant’s. I have soda and water too.”
“No, no. I’m fine. I just wanted to apologize for the way I acted tonight.”
He’s apologizing?
“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have judged your lifestyle. It was improper and unprofessional of me. I won’t get involved in your personal life again.” I gulp when his brow furrows. “I am your employee and you are my boss. I think it’s best if we keep our relationship strictly professional.”
“Why did what I said bother you so much, Darcy? You aren’t even looking at me the same.”
“Mr. Scott, I mean it. I don’t think we should talk about this. We should act like it never happened.”
“I can’t act like it never happened. I need to know,” he presses, sitting down on the corner of my bed.
He’s on my bed. He’s on my fucking bed!
“It seemed like that’s what you were trying to do to me—seduce me so I’d sleep with you. You had me at the dinner already, I was smitten, andwhat? You were going to fuck me into tomorrow and leave?”
His eyes widen. “You weresmitten? You thought we were on a date?”
I can hardly speak. “No…I mean, yes. God, I don’t know, Benjamin.”
“I was taking you out to dinner. Did I ever once give you the impression I wanted to fuck you and leave you? You’re my assistant.”
I nod slowly, trying to conceal the embarrassment that feels like a knife twisting in my chest. “Well, you’ve put me in my place, Mr. Scott. I hear you loud and clear.”
“Hear what?” He stands and walks over to the fridge, retrieving the wine I offered previous to this odd twist of events.
