Under His Obsession - A Steamy Workplace Romance - Cathryn Fox Page 0,19
all the bedrooms—most decorated in beach decor. I think there were six. I take in the opulence of the place, but it saddens me. There are no pictures, no homey touches, no stamp of a guy who entertains friends and family, a guy who welcomes love and laughter into his home. He’s become quite the recluse after the exposé, and damned if I don’t feel a niggling of remorse myself. I might not have written the article, but I worked for the magazine that did.
He goes on to explain more of my duties: shopping, cleaning, laundry, running errands. Our last stop on the tour is his bedroom, and he doesn’t invite me in. Instead, we stand in the hall and his eyes cut to mine.
“Just remember, anything you see or overhear doesn’t leave the confines of this house.”
I glance into his room, take in his perfectly made bed. It doesn’t even look like he slept in it. That brings a pang of guilt to my stomach. He stayed up to take care of me and probably never even got a wink of sleep. Maybe he’s not such a bad guy after all.
My gaze roams to the comfy-looking soft blue bedding, and I engage my mouth before my brain. “What kind of noises are you worried I’m going to overhear?” His throat makes a sound, and I turn to him. “Oh, right. I get it. You...visitors...women.”
Things would have been so much easier if I’d just been flushed out into space.
“No one is to come into this house unless they are vetted by me.” He dips his head, and as he pins me with a glare, his mouth is right there. If I wanted to kiss him, all I’d have to do is go up on my toes. But I don’t want to. The man is the most gorgeous specimen on the face of the earth, but clearly insane. Not to mention he can’t keep it in his pants, and straight up admitted it. “Do you understand?”
“What I think you’re trying to say is you’re allowed ‘visitors.’ But I’m not.”
“I never said that—” He runs his hands down his chest, a gesture that is becoming familiar, and that crinkle is back in his forehead. “Do you want visitors, Khloe?” he asks.
He’s been honest so far, so I don’t see the need not to return the favor. “For the record, my days of Netflix and chill are over,” I admit.
His eyes narrow in on me. “Why is that?”
“They just are, okay?” I am not about to admit that men don’t find me attractive, and that my ex wanted to change me, and that I’ve given up finding anyone because I no longer believe there is a match for me. No, it’s best I keep my deepest flaws to myself.
He studies me too closely, too intently. He opens his mouth like he’s going to push, but the door chimes.
“Expecting a visitor, sir?” I ask with a raised brow, even though it could end up in him canning my ass. But for some reason I just can’t help myself.
“No,” he grumbles, but I catch a hint of caution in his tone, a rigid restraint in his body as he heads to the front door. My teasing turns to concern as I follow him. He opens the door, and a gorgeous olive-skinned woman who looks to be in her early thirties stands on his steps. She gives him a sexy, come-hither smile when their eyes meet.
“Will,” she says in a singsong voice, heavy with a creole accent.
His smile is back in place. “Bevey,” he says, his body relaxing slightly.
“I heard you were back,” the gorgeous Bevey says. “I came as soon as I could. I brought your favorite dish.”
Yeah, I just bet she did. And I also bet it’s called Bevey, with a cherry on top.
CHAPTER SIX
Will
“COME IN,” I say to Bevey, and stand back to allow her entrance. Her dark brown eyes widen, and her smile turns a bit forced when she sees Khloe in her ridiculous uniform. “Bevey, this is Khloe, my new assistant.”
Bevey shifts the plate of johnnycakes from her right hand to her left and extends her arm to greet the shorter, curvier woman beside me. “Nice to meet you, Khloe.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” Khloe says, and points at the dish in Bevey’s hand. “Would you like me to take those for you?”
“Yes, thank you. I made them this morning. They’re Will’s favorite.” She gives me a big toothy smile that