NADIA.
Daylight did not fix anything.
Rude, honestly.
Instead, it added to my panic the moment I woke up and realized I had left my phone in my boss's suite.
Wonderful.
Brilliant.
Of all places, it had to be in Jeremy Kellason’s private suite. Jesus. Could my life get any more complicated?
Someone should give me an award for stupidity. Maybe a plaque. Maybe a small certificate with my full name printed in bold: NADIA WILSON, PROFESSIONAL i***t.
More than a thousand possibilities of what he could have done with my phone kept replaying in my head.
He could have opened it.
He could have read my messages.
He could have even seen the amateur videos I had taken last month but was too shy to send to Liam.
God.
Liam.
He might have called already.
Shit.
More guilt ate at me.
I wanted to peel my skin off.
But first, apparently, I had to go to work.
My stomach twisted so hard I almost stopped outside the front doors of Kellason Global. But I pushed through until I got to my desk and turned on my computer.
A few seconds later, Jeremy walked into the premises with Soren at his side and two directors trailing behind him. Dark suit. Black shirt. No tie today. His hair was gleaming at the edges, as usual, as he walked leisurely with a hand in his pocket.
He did not even look in my direction as he walked toward his office. But suddenly, he halted, turned slowly, and began walking toward me.
I did my best to pretend I was working, even though I felt my heart stutter with every step he took.
“Nadia.”
He called in that voice of his, and my fingers froze on the keyboard.
I cleared my throat and lifted my head. "Yes, sir."
He held out a file.
“Langton packet. Read the revised terms. Mark the clauses that look too decorative. I want your notes by eight o'clock.”
His fingers brushed mine when I took it, and my stomach dropped so hard I almost hated myself out loud at the small contact.
His eyes lowered to my hand.
He noticed.
“Problem?” he asked.
I pulled the file fully into my lap. “No, sir.” I swallowed. "But it's already past eight, sir."
His gaze stayed on me for one extra beat. "Eight PM." He spelled it out. "Tonight."
"What?" I breathed, almost inaudibly, but he turned his attention away from me before I could form my next words.
He didn't mean I had to stay in the office until eight PM, did he?
The idea made me shiver with goosebumps.
"You're dismissed." He said to the three staff with him, and his voice when he said those words...
My pulse hit hard between my thighs.
They nodded politely and dispersed when he strode to his office and shut his door in their faces.
I wasn't stupid enough to go into his office to demand my phone. I wasn't stupid enough to lock myself up with him in a secluded space for the second time in nine hours.
I tried to focus on work, but I couldn't. I opened a spreadsheet and stared at the numbers until they blurred into meaningless little black insects.
Every time I looked at the door to his office, images of him scrolling through my phone plagued me.
At ten, a blonde woman from HR walked into his office without knocking.
Camille.
And suddenly, I couldn't concentrate on the report I was working on.
Everyone knew Camille. She had the kind of beauty that belongs on a runway.
I kept staring at his door and wondering what they were doing behind closed doors until eleven, when they both stepped out of his office together.
She was laughing at something he'd said, even though he wasn't cracking a smile. Typical Jeremy Kellason.
But why did I suddenly want to know what he had said to her?
And why was he looking at her so intently with a burning gaze?
Suddenly, he was smiling the moment Camille touched his sleeve. Though it was a small, controlled curve of his mouth, it somehow made my stomach twist.
My chest tightened. It was none of my business. He wasn't mine. He was my boss. He was Liam's best friend.
But I couldn't stop the ugly, poisonous thing coiling in my gut.
Jealousy.
I was jealous of a woman I barely knew, for talking to a man who had violated my privacy in every way imaginable.
That was how far gone I was.
He turned. His eyes found mine. And I could swear I saw a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes when he found me watching.
Jesus.
What was this man up to?
Then he looked away, nodded at something the woman said, and walked back into his office.
My legs suddenly had a mind of their own as they followed behind him.
I couldn't take it anymore. I needed... My phone.
I knocked.
"Come in." His rich, masculine voice seeped through his door and landed somewhere in my lower abdomen.
I stepped inside, and when the door clicked shut, my knees nearly gave out.
Once again, I was in another private space with this man.
I stood before him and kept both hands at my sides. He wasn't even looking up at me. His focus was on whatever he was looking at on his laptop.
“My phone,” I said.
Jeremy leaned back, eyes still glued to his screen. “What about it?”
I hated him.
I hated his calm. I hated the way he sat there and still managed to act like yesterday never happened.
“I left it in your suite.”
“Yes.”
My heartbeat kicked. “You have it?”
“Yes.”
“Then give it to me.”
“No.”
For one stupid second, I thought I had misheard him.
I blinked. “No?”
“No,” he repeated, lifting his gaze to meet mine. “You left it where you left it. Come and get it.”
My stomach dropped. “At your suite?”
“That is where you dropped it when you ran from a naked predator with your blood singing and your brain half-dead from panic.” He said, his gaze burning into my eyes.
My stomach dropped as heat flooded my face.
“But I need it now,” I said, and hated how close my voice came to begging. “Liam is probably trying to reach me.”
Jeremy’s expression did not change. Not even a flicker. But something flickered at the corner of his mouth. It wasn't a smile. It was the cold cousin of one.
“I don’t give a f**k what Liam is trying to do.” He stood up and slowly walked toward me.
I took an instinctive step backward.
"Here's a thing about me, Nadia. I don't give two f***s whether he calls till the line goes dead."
My breath caught when he stood so close to me that there was almost no distance between us.
"Consider it the price you pay for standing in my doorway watching me make free porn for you." His head tilted.
My pulse slammed. “Stop,” I whispered.
His eyes dropped to my mouth. “Why? Does hearing it out loud make you wet again?”
My stomach clenched.
His gaze moved down my body with humiliating intensity, like he could see straight through my skirt.
“Tell me something, Nadia.” His hands stayed in his pockets, but his gaze felt like it had hands of its own, burning through every spot it landed. “How many times?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do.”
He took one step closer.
My back met the edge of his desk.
Shit.
His hand came down beside my hip, trapping me there without touching me.
“How many times did you touch that pretty cunt after you ran from me?”
The room tilted, and I felt the sickening urge to slap him hard across his face, but I couldn't.
“f**k you,” I breathed, and his smile finally came, even though it was small, cruel, and beautiful in a way that made me want to be blind.
“Not yet.” His eyes held mine. “Though if you keep looking at me like that, I might seriously consider it.”
My breathing turned ragged. "You..." My brows narrowed. "What the hell are you?" I breathed out.
"I'm the monster you should pray never to get entangled with." His voice dropped an octave. "So your phone stays where you dropped it. Liam panics. And you come get it on my terms. That's what it cost you."
"But, he's your friend." I tried to reason with him.
“Speaking of friends." He smirked and took a step back, his hands in his pockets again. "Your fiancé called twice, by the way.”
My stomach dropped.
“Did you answer?”
Jeremy’s eyes stayed on mine.
“If I had, Nadia, you’d already know.” He let that sit before he shattered the fragile relief I felt. "But he texted."
"What did he say?" I took a step toward him, but his warning gaze made me stop.
"Wrapping up early, babe. I'll be home by seven."
He recited the text like it disgusted him.
Wasn't this man supposed to be my fiancé's best friend? Why did he seem like he looted Liam so much?
And... Seven?
"Wait. Liam is returning from his trip by seven. I need to be home. Can I submit the report before..."
His smirk cut me off as he turned and walked back to his chair, his voice returning to normal. "Phone's in the suite. Come up after eight with the report. I'll be there."
He lifted his gaze to meet mine. "Now, leave."