Page 10 of Wham, Bam, Marry Me, Ma’am
Chapter 5
Rachel
By late afternoon, Vaughn still hasn't returned.
I want to talk to him, clear the air, and explain why I said no to his incredibly sexy request. Apparently, we are not going to be able to pretend it didn't happen. But it's getting late, and I don't intend to camp out at the office to talk to somebody who’s avoiding me.
"Hi, Rachel, is Vaughn in?" Clinton walks up to my desk carrying a square box.
"No, he's not, Clinton. Did you have an appointment I didn't know about?" I chew my lip, anxious about screwing anything up when things are so weird between us right now.
"No. He wanted to see more of the designs I'm testing on the camping trip, so I thought I'd drop them off." Clinton places thebox on the corner of my desk. "You can call me Clint, by the way."
"I'll make sure he gets the box, Clint," I say, smiling as I stand up. "Research and design would be my first choice of department at the company," I admit, peeking into the box. "That is, after my own job, of course,"
"Yes. Makes for long hours, though," Clint says. "Good thing I live alone, I guess."
I eye him cautiously, trying to decide if he wants to talk about it. "Yeah, it's hard to meet someone in the city," I say sympathetically.
Clint shakes his head and gives me a small smile. "Testing is the best part of the job," he says, expertly changing the subject. "I get all of the outdoor products, so that makes for a nice perk."
"You like nature?" I assess him through fresh eyes with this new information. Clint looks like a Viking with longish blond hair. He's tall with thick arms and thighs. I've mostly seen him in professional wear, but if I picture him in jeans and a flannel, he is definitely a swoon-worthy mountain man type.
Clint nods. "Yep. Grew up in a small mountain town on the other side of Passion Ridge." A sad nostalgia shines through his eyes for a moment, but it's fleeting and then he's all business. "Okay, well. I'll need these back in a week." He taps the box once. "Do you want me to put it in his office for you?"
"No, head home. I've got it," I assure him. Clint hesitates, but I wave him off. He gives me a little wave as he leaves.
I write a note with Clint's one-week request on it and tape it to the box. I lug it into my arms and prop it against Vaughn's door so I can turn the handle.
Well, this is heavier than it looked. I should have taken Clint up on his offer. I manage to get it to the desk without dropping it, but I jostle a stack of mail when I set it down heavily. The stack of envelopes scatter across the plush carpet.
I hum to myself, refusing to get cranky about something easily fixed as I get down on all fours to gather the mail. As I stack the pile neatly on Vaughn's desk, I notice one letter stuck toward the back of his desk. I crawl under and have to get down on my elbows. As I try to loosen it from where it's wedged under the thick side cabinet section, I marvel at how it must have hit at the perfect angle when it fell. There has to be an online forum for weird everyday things like this. I wiggle my butt, pulling the edge of the envelope toward me, and it finally comes free.
"For fuck's sake, Rachel. Are you trying to kill me?" A deep voice sounds behind me, and I jump, bumping my head on the underside of Vaughn's desk. Strong hands wrap around my waist, hauling me up, and when I turn around, I'm inches from Vaughn's brooding face.
He grimaces as I rub my head, looking pained. It hurts, but my ego is more bruised at this point.
"What are you doing in here?" he demands, and I glare at his tone.
"Delivering a package, but I knocked over the mail you left on the corner." I turn to place the final letter on the stack with the others, moving the pile a safe distance to the middle of his desk with sassy emphasis. I turn and stride toward the door, all thoughts of the conversation I still need to have with him put aside.
If I irritate him this much, why the hell did he want to kiss me?
"It's probably best if you stay out of my office," Vaughn grits out quietly.
That's it. Something in me snaps, and I am no longer interested in making excuses for his controlling behavior.
I whirl on him. "Excuse me, Vaughn Billings?"
His eyes flare with heat, and it takes everything in my power not to climb him like a tree and beg him to finish what he started in the elevator two days ago. But now I'm pissed.
"Iamdoing my job, and I'm doing it well. A fact you may have missed considering I've yet to hear one positive comment about my job performance." My hands on my hips, I'm now inches from his face. Even through my anger, I can't stop myself from glancing at his full lips. I look up to his eyes quickly, refusing to give him an edge over me.
"You want a job review?" he asks through gritted teeth. He takes a step toward me, and I involuntarily take a step to the side, desperately trying to concentrate around his spicy soothing scent that has a direct line to my nipples. They tingle, hardening as his chest grazes mine, and I bump into the desk behind me. I place my hands on either side of my butt, gripping the edge for support as I try to keep myself away from his mouth.
"You. Are. Fucking.Perfect," Vaughn grits out. "The best fucking assistant I've ever had. Anticipate every move. Three steps ahead of me. You manage my moods like it's normal to be a controlling fucking asshole. And you are so goddamn beautiful I can't stand to look at you for too long or my heart will break knowing you don't want me the same way."
I blink twice, and he blinks back at me, as startled by his admission as I am.
