what to do.
“Do you, um . . . just want me to leave or finish out the day?”
My gaze drifted between him and the door. Which did I want more? To stay or go? Stay, obviously.
Monty sighed and lowered the freezer pack. His nose had stopped bleeding.
Even with a little dried blood under his nose, he was handsome. I watched him as I tidied up his desk, throwing the tissue away.
Monty was the type of man someone like me could only dream of having. That wasn’t to say we couldn’t have a one-night stand. He was hot, and I caught him looking at me a few times. It was the way he watched me that had me thinking he liked what he saw.
But he was a professional, a billionaire who ran his own company. I was pennies, and he was crisp hundred-dollar bills. I didn’t even own a car and had to rely on my sister to drive me to work. I was sure he owned several cars, probably with Italian names I’d have trouble pronouncing.
It may have sounded pathetic, but working next to him felt like I was in a fairytale where I got to rub shoulders with people I only read about on gossip sites.
“Stay.” He looked up and reached over, gently wrapping his fingers over mine. “You’re not fired. But there is something I need to tell you.”
My knees wobbled as sweet relief came over me. I didn’t care if it was inappropriate, I pulled his hand to my chest and said, “Thank you so much. I promise to be honest with you no matter what. You ask and I will tell you. You want to know when I first got my period, I’ll let you know.”
Monty chuckled and stood. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”
“It was when I was twelve in art class, and Jimmy laughed at me because he thought I sat in paint. I hadn’t . . . Oh, you said you didn’t want to know. Sorry, I misunderstood.”
I was still holding his hand to my chest. He was warm. When his nose flared as he stared at his hand, I had a powerful urge to kiss him. Then throw him on the desk and ride him like a horse.
“Speaking of misunderstandings . . .” he trailed off as his hand lifted from my chest.
But he didn’t drop his arm. Instead, his fingers glided up my chest, until he was cupping the back of my neck.
I tried to keep his gaze, but there was so much heat in it I feared I’d vaporize.
“Wh . . . uh, what misunderstandings?” I said a little too breathlessly.
Monty’s touch was causing my brain to zap out and my vagina to break out the cocktails.
He lowered his forehead to mine and closed his eyes.
Was he going to kiss me or start crying? I couldn’t tell.
“It’s about Nathan. I think I’m—”
There was a loud bang, and I jumped back. The door to his office swung open with such force, I thought I heard a crack.
“Fran Drescher!” Monty yelled.
“Nope, just your king.” A tall man who reminded me of Chris Hemsworth but with more muscles, if that was possible, walked into the room with his arms spread wide.
Monty rubbed his forehead, his glasses askew. “Hamish, you scared us.”
Hamish’s gray eyes, like molten steel, slid over to me. “And who is the better-looking half of the us?” The corner of his lip quirked as he moved toward me.
I felt myself flush. I didn’t even know the guy, but he screamed sex-on-a-stick. No, that didn’t even do him justice. He was more like sex-on-a-2x4.
“This is my assistant, Ms. Nutters.”
My jaw tightened. Hamish now knew my ridiculous last name.
Yet, when Hamish heard the name, he didn’t flinch. He acted as if it was the most normal name he ever heard. “It’s lovely to meet you, Ms. Nutters. I’m Hamish Blackwell.”
He held out his hand, and when I went to shake it, he gracefully lifted my hand and kissed the back. It was as if a feather floated across my hand as I barely felt his lips touch.
It was the most charming introduction I had ever experienced. How did I handle it? I giggled like a schoolgirl and embarrassed myself further when my laughter turned into a snort.
No wonder my wealthy cousins wanted nothing to do with our side of the family. We were uncouth.
As Hamish lowered my hand, I felt warmth at my side. Monty had come over and stood next to