Page 114 of Fighting Mr. Knight

Another message quickly follows.

I hold my breath reading it once, twice, three times.

Jack:And my nan always said trust is the foundation to love.

27

Bonnie

I prepared myself for classic Knight—the swagger, the smirk, the orders growled with a half-grin.

I prepared myself that he would treat mewith the same casual arrogance he reserves for everyone because, despite theknock-you-off-your-feet-romantic messages, nothing got in the way of work for Jack.

I prepared myself for business mode Jack.

I hadn’t prepared myself forthis.

Every hair on my body stands as Jack storms down the aisle.

The guy talking intently in his ear and meeting him stride by stride isn’t holding his attention.

No, that’s all on me.

Feralis the only way I can describe the look.

His eyes blaze with such searing intensity that the entire floor must notice.

Oh,fuck.

I duck down behind my monitor like a frightened turtle.

Nisha laughs quietly beside me.

He said it wouldn’t be weird at work. I meant by him ignoring me, not charging towards me like a horny bull.

“Jack,” I squeak as he stops right at my desk.

“Later, bossman,” the other guy says, walking off to leave me with a brooding hulky CEO staring down at me.

He leans over my desk divider with a slow lazy smile tugging at his lips and the subtlety of a brick.

I’m acutely aware of conversations teetering off around me.

“Morning, Bonnie.” It’s a low husky tone that should only be used in the bedroom.

“Good morning, Jack,” I reply in a clipped tone, feeling prickly with all the eyes boring into me.

“Morning, Jack,” Nisha chirps beside me.

“Morning, Nisha,” he drawls, still looking at me. His brown eyes are half-lidded as his gaze drops to my mouth. “How are you?”

“Great!” I say brightly. “I’m just completing the CAD for the south tower.”Please don’t look at me like that, it makes me want to have all your babies.Out of the corner of my eye, Max watches us. “How are you today?”

“Never been better.” He leans his forearms further over my desk divider until his fingers tickle my arm. Seemingly, he’s in no hurry to do whatever billionaire property tycoons do at 9 a.m. in the office.

I blink. “So, everyone’s great.” It sounds like I don’t have a voice box. “How can I help you, Jack?”

This is surreal. The man was buried inside me last night. Most of the night. Everyone must be able to tell I was his lucky cock-warmer. I’ve even got a mild limp from sore thighs.

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