The Billionaire's Forbidden Desire (12 page)

As she served herself and started in on her eggs, Salazar said, “By the way, I got you a job interview. It’s at eleven. That should give you plenty of time to eat and get out there.”

Sophia blinked. “So soon?”

He got a slightly cocky look. “Hey. Told you I’d help you get back on your feet.”

“What kind of job?”

“It’s an assistant position. So you assist. Basically do whatever your boss wants. Nothing too intellectually taxing or physically demanding. But I gotta warn you. I know the guy you’re going to be working for. He’s kind of an asshole.”

“Um…” She reached for her tea, not knowing whether to laugh or be worried. “I see.”

Salazar chuckled. “No need to look so concerned. I’m not sending you to work for a psychopath. Do you have a car you can drive?”

“Uh, no.” She flushed. “I had one, but it wasn’t under my name. So…” She shrugged delicately, clearing her throat.

“I understand. No sweat, you can take one of mine.”

“Oh, I can’t possi—”

He waved her away. “I have so many cars, it’s a chore to have to choose one. And it’s not good to let vehicles rot in the garage. You’ll be doing me a favor.”

She ran her thumb along the rough edge of her whole-wheat toast. She didn’t know anything about cars and maintenance, but she should just accept the offer. There wasn’t any decent public transportation near the mansion. She’d had to walk quite a while to reach his place from the closest bus stop on the map. “Thank you.”

“Great!” He smiled. “Let me give you my number so you can call if you need anything.” He gave her a card that only said SALAZAR PRYCE and had a phone number underneath.

“Is this your…business card?”

“In a manner of speaking. Sometimes it’s just handy to be able to give someone your number.”

She took the card, then finished her meal and returned to her room to make sure she looked professional and presentable for the job interview. Even though Salazar had acted like it was a done deal, she didn’t want to embarrass him.

Roco watched as she got ready. She dug out a navy skirt suit and nude ballet flats. Her hair went up, then a pair of pearl studs completed her look. She fingered her heart-shaped garnet necklace with the panic button. It was just plain jewelry without Chad, but she couldn’t bring herself to remove it. She’d wanted to call him more than once, but hadn’t been able to. She didn’t want to complicate his life with her problems when she knew he needed to earn a living. It was ironic, but taking care of herself was the best thing she could do for him.

She picked Roco up and touched his nose with hers. “Wish me luck. If all goes well, we’ll have a place of our own soon.”

He licked her nose and squirmed, wagging his tail. Smiling, she put him down, gave him a scratch behind the ears and left.

Al was waiting for her downstairs with a car key. “This is yours to drive, miss,” he said, gesturing at a green Aston Martin convertible that had been brought around to the front of the mansion. The car gleamed in the morning sunlight. The license tag read 2HOT4U.

“Oh no, that’s too…too…” She swallowed the rest. She didn’t want to seem like she was complaining, but the car’s flashiness made her squirm. When Salazar had offered, she’d assumed he’d lend her a station-wagon or something.

“The location of your interview has been programmed into the vehicle’s GPS. If you get lost or need assistance, please call this number.” Al handed her a card. It felt smooth and expensive in her hand. “Good luck, miss.”

She took the keys with a murmured thanks and climbed in, feeling like she was in some kind of trance. The engine roared to life, and she carefully pulled out.

The traffic wasn’t as bad as she’d feared. The GPS led her to a downtown skyscraper. She parked her car in the underground garage and started toward the elevator.

On the way up she clenched and unclenched her hands and took a few calming breaths. She could do this. She absolutely could. If there was one thing she knew how to do it was control her nerves. That was the reason why she’d been so good at skating—while others crumpled under the pressures of competition, she stayed calm and composed. She could handle a job interview.

The elevator opened up to a wide reception area. A sleek company logo read Digital Angel Capital in strong, unembellished block letters.

A slim brunette in a pale gray suit peered at Sophia through a pair of fashionable glasses. “Sophia Reed?”

“Yes.”

“Please follow me.”

She rose and escorted her down a long corridor. The office was stately with pale earth-tone carpet, dark furniture and frosted glass partitions. Everything hinted at wealth and elegance. What kind of company was this?

Now that Sophia thought about it, she probably should’ve researched that before showing up. It was too late to pull out her phone and google, especially not when the receptionist was moving full speed ahead in a pair of pricey pumps that, Sophia noted, she walked in with a sophisticated ease.

The receptionist opened the door at the end of the hall. “Here you are.”

The inside was surprisingly spacious with a couple of leather benches. A curved desk sat to one side, on the right of double doors. Sophia looked back at the receptionist.

“There’s an adjoining office. He’s waiting for you on the other side,” she said, then vanished.

Sophia licked dry lips and breathed deeply.
I got this
.

She pushed the doors by the desk open and walked inside.

It was a huge corner office with a stunning view of the city. The space was minimalist and museum clean. A large black executive desk predominated, completely devoid of clutter. Only one sleek laptop and a phone sat on the shiny surface.

To the left of the desk, near the floor-to-ceiling glass wall, was a mini-bar stocked with bottles of amber liquor. A couple of chairs and a couch that were arranged around a coffee table took up the space on her side of the office. There wasn’t a single plant or photo in the austere space.

She hesitated, unsure what to do next. No one else was in the room…but the receptionist had acted like somebody was waiting for her.

Then a door on the other side of the office opened, and Dane walked in. Her mouth parted as shock rippled through her.

Dane was in a gray suit and pearl-colored tie; the flash impression was of a great white shark. He strode purposefully over to his desk and took a seat.

Despite the energy he radiated, the small lines around his eyes seemed more pronounced than the night before.
Maybe that blonde kept him up late
. Her mouth flattened at the thought.

“Sit down,” he said quietly, indicating a chair in front of the desk. Despite his calm demeanor, something dangerous lurked in his eyes.

She sat, knees and ankles pressed together.

“I hear you’re looking for a job. Why?”

“To earn an honest living.”

“I see. Did Salazar encourage you to look for work?”

She tilted her head. Dane was watching her like a lion would an impala. Did he still think she was out for his father’s money? “No. It’s something I want.”

“Of course.” He leaned back in his seat. A bemused smile curled his lips, but his eyes remained cool. “So you won’t object if I ask you to move out of Salazar’s house as a condition of your employment?”

“If you can wait a couple of months, no.”

“Why the delay?”

“I don’t have the money for a deposit or—”

He flicked away her explanation. “I can advance you the money. And my staff can find you a temporary place to stay.”

“That’s very generous, but I’d hate to impose.”

“Unless it’s on my father.”

His superior expression made her hands clench. “There’s absolutely nothing good about my situation. Do you think I want to take someone else’s charity?” She shook her head. “The only difference between you and me is that you didn’t spend all your life pursuing something highly uneconomical out of love and passion, and your father’s better at managing his money than mine was. If what you’re really worried about is protecting your inheritance, don’t worry. I won’t be a leech.”

“This isn’t about any inheritance. I don’t want his money, and in any case I’m already quite wealthy.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“There are two. One, you pretending to want to share his bed because he’s such a great guy. And two, you becoming my stepmother, which I find singularly distasteful.” He paused for a moment, his eyes narrow. “I know what you sound like when you come.”

The gall! “Your dad said you were an asshole, and I thought he was mistaken. But it’s obvious I’m the one who was wrong. You
are
an asshole.”

“And proud of it. I suppose he forgot to mention that.”

“He did. I guess he didn’t want to paint his son too badly.”

Dane laughed out loud. “
Right
.”

“For your information, I actually
do
like him. He’s charming, and he’s nice to me without expecting anything in return. He’s made sure that my dog and I are comfortable while I try to find a way to get back on my feet.”

“Next you’re going to tell me he loves you and you love him.”

She fumed. Was his mind too broken to think of anything but that? “Obviously you’re one of those people who can’t accept kindness at face value. There has to be some ulterior motive, right?” She shook her head. “Now I see why you left the way you did. Despite what you think, all I wanted back then was dinner and sex, and the only thing Salazar’s been offering is assistance, because he realizes I need it. So when your brain starts coming up with all the horrible reasons people might have for being nice to each other, maybe you should reflect on your own soul. Ask yourself why you have to be so cynical when you’ve lived all your life in absolute privilege.”

Dane didn’t respond in any outward way except for an almost imperceptible tightening of his mouth. She swallowed. She didn’t know what made her just say all that. Generally she avoided confrontations, but she simply couldn’t keep her mouth shut with Dane. He pressed every single one of her buttons.

Finally, he got up and walked around the desk, stopping in front of her. Probably a deliberate move to make her tilt her head back to look up at him.

He leaned forward until his nose almost touched hers. His scent—some luxurious aftershave and pure male—enveloped her until her senses drowned in it. Her pulse leaped.

“Are you finished?” His near-whisper was hot against her cheek.

She shivered despite herself. “Yes.”

“Then listen very carefully, Sophia. I’m about to give you an important lesson in surviving my family. It’s precisely
because
of the way my life has gone that I’ve become so cynical. Kindness can be kindness, or it can be a weapon. And when it’s a weapon, it can be deadlier than a gun. Don’t take anything at face value.”

Her heart thudded, not just from the proximity to him. Dane seemed genuine. Just how messed up had his life been that he believed this? She’d always thought she’d had a less than ideal childhood with her oblivious and negligent parents and her single-minded focus on her sport career. But nothing had damaged her to the point that she equated kindness to something worse than guns. “I see. Well, I’m sorry for wasting both of our time.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”

“Salazar said you needed an assistant. Obviously I’m not suitable for that position.”

His mouth quirked. “Are you turning down a job I haven’t even offered?”

She flushed. “You weren’t going to, so don’t pretend.”

“One thing you need to know about me is that I don’t pretend. I say what I mean, and I do what I say.” He straightened. “You’re to start immediately. Fill out whatever paperwork HR throws at you and then come back here.”

“Excuse me?”

“Unless you think you can do better elsewhere, I suggest you hurry. My offer has a rather tight expiration date.”

* * *

Dane stared at the closed door. Sophia’s feminine scent lingered, making his body practically vibrate with need. Shit.

Desire still simmered, unfulfilled from the night before. He’d come, his hand fisted around his dick, but that was a poor substitute for her. He remembered—clearly—how sweet her body was, how wet and welcoming. And he still hadn’t felt what her lips felt like around his cock.

Perched at the edge of his desk, he put his fingertips together. He’d thought to intimidate her. Most people would’ve sweated and stammered when he’d gotten in their face, even without raising his voice.

But not her.

She’d stood her ground, told him what she thought. Called him an entitled asshole. He could respect that in spite of himself.

Still, that didn’t mean he was deviating from his plan. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he didn’t want her as his stepmother. Who would want to call a woman they’d slept with “Mom”?

Not to mention, despite her insistence to the contrary, he knew Salazar’s transformation had something to do with her. Dane had seen how perceptive she was regarding other people’s vulnerabilities. And people like that were also great at using them to their advantage. Just look how Salazar had done it to the ones around him, and the same for his mother, Ceinlys.

People were no different from wild animals—it was all about survival of the fittest. Sure, they wore nice clothes and pretty smiles and spouted polite words. Sort of like the way predators looked innocuous until they pounced. Dane had no interest in becoming the prey. Nor did he have any interest in masking himself just to make everyone else around him feel safe. It wasn’t his job. Besides, everyone already knew what a bastard he was anyway.

Better to be an asshole than a failure
…
or worse
,
a pawn
.

He dialed a number from memory. His brother Mark was getting married soon, and Dane needed to speak to his fiancée. When she picked up, he didn’t wait for a greeting. “My assistant’s going to call you to help with your wedding plans. Keep her busy.”

A short pause. Then Hilary Rosenberg said, “That’s nice of you, but I’m already covered with Jo, and Vanessa is helping too.”