Page 2 of Bound to the Boss
“Yes, and there was an elderly gentleman there, a bit on the cantankerous side, but I always got him to smile.”
“How did you do that?”
“By giving him extra butter, of course.” I grinned but it quickly slipped off my face at his non-reaction. “I also listened to him talk about his daughter.” I shrugged and smoothed my palms down my skirt.
His gaze ticked to my lap and back up again, the rest of his handsome face impassive. “What else?”
This interview was like pulling out all of my teeth, slowly and with a dull-bladed shovel. Why not just ask me real questions with solid answers? Yet I knew this was all part of the process, this jumping through hoops for a chance at a paycheck. I would jump even if the hoops were on fire, and I had a feeling Cyrus knew that and liked watching me squirm.
“I have an open mind, which seems obvious since I’m here, but I don’t pass judgement on kinks or those who have them,” I said.
“How well do you read body language?”
Was that part of the job description? “Uh, pretty well, I think.”
He studied me for a long moment, absently tapping out a rhythm on the armrest. “What does my body language say to you right now?”
“Relaxed,” I said with a slight shrug. “You look like you feel confident in your own skin. Maybe a little bored.”
I was nothing if not honest, and I never knew if that was a good or bad thing.
“Far from it, Ms. Blevins.” He smiled, which briefly melted away some of the tension on his face and did wonderful, devilish things to his full lips. He stood, a towering stack of muscle, and offered his hand once again.
Hesitantly, I stood and took it, ignoring the thrill of his rough hand in mine. Was that the whole interview? Had I completely blown it? Wow, that must really say a lot about my interview skills if I couldn’t even get through a five-minute one with only three vague questions asked of me.
He released me and led the way to the door. I followed against a crushing wave of disappointment, mentally rewinding everything I’d done and said to see where I went wrong. Sure, there was always room for improvement, but...oh god, had he seen the super glue leaking out of my heel?
He turned, his hand on the doorknob. “I wish you a safe and sidewalk-free trip home.”
I swallowed back tears. “Cy—Mr. Robinson, I-I really need this job.”
“Good.” He opened the door, his dark gaze never wavering. “Because you start tomorrow.”
My mouth popped open, but I quickly closed it. I slid closer to him so I could pass through the doorway, and his body heat enveloped me in an odd mix of a soothing balm and a pulse rocket.
I licked my lips nervously as I glanced up at him on my way out. He tracked the movement, and something in his eyes sparked, a vivid shock I felt curl between my thighs.
It stole my breath as I said, “I’ll make sure you don’t regret your decision, sir.”
