Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
This was what he needed. What could make the pure shit of his life go away for a while. What could make him forget he was so goddamned pathetic he didn’t even know where to start with his Dad’s pride and joy before he’d already halfway run the business into the ground. What could let him ignore that just to be able to get up in the morning, he’d had to hire someone—
Hire someone.
And that someone was currently kissing him like a whirlwind.
The heat in Ash’s blood turned cold. He tore away from Forsythe’s mouth, jerking his face to the side, and shoved against his chest, thrusting himself back against the door with a gasp. “Forsythe!”
Forsythe stilled as if his off switch had been flipped, only to shift into motion again, his hands slowly falling away from Ash’s face and leaving the ghostly burn of their afterimpression behind. He regarded Ash coolly, as though Forsythe’s chest wasn’t subtly heaving, his mouth parted and glistened and reddened. As if this were just another duty, and now it had been done.
“Do you find me unattractive, then?” he asked.
“N-no, it’s not that, I—I—”
Ash was going to throw up. He glared at Forsythe, his lips trembling; this felt all wrong, and even worse was that some deep frightened part of him wanted it back. Wanted that feeling of letting go of control and letting Forsythe take over and make him feel small and sheltered and hot and pleasured and completely at his mercy. No. No. Fuck no, he just…just…he might be a fucking spoiled shit, but he wasn’t that kind of person.
His fingers curled into fists, nails biting into his palms. “Fuck, you think I want sex to be some kind of transaction like this?” he demanded. “You’re my fucking employee so you’re just humoring my fucking libido for a paycheck?”
Forsythe’s calm regard didn’t waver. As if this was nothing; as if…as if… “I have every intention of being your faithful servant in all things.”
“Not that,” Ash hissed. “Not that.”
Forsythe started to step closer, one hand lifting—but Ash jerked away, sliding to the side and away from the door, edging back toward his desk.
“Don’t,” he said. “Don’t, I just…” Bitterness made his mouth feel like a tight, sour pucker, drawing down. “Fine. I won’t go anywhere. I’ll…” He tore his gaze away from Forsythe, but ended up staring at the desk. The desk that would always be his father’s desk, and Ash was too small to fill its seat. He folded his arms over his chest, hugging them to himself. “…just…give me a little space for a while.”
“As you wish,” Forsythe replied smoothly.
The faintest whisper of stone on stone hinted at the door pulling open—but it didn’t shut. No sound of small echoes from patent leather footsteps. Then:
“I apologize if I made you feel in any way violated,” Forsythe murmured.
“No. It’s not that.” Fuck, if anything it was the opposite. Ash…Ash was the one who’d crossed a line here, even if he hadn’t started it. He hunched into his shoulders. “But thank you for apologizing.”
“Young Master,” Forsythe replied.
Then the door swung closed, soft sigh of settling hinges, faint click of the latch.
And Ash was alone.
Just a speck of dust, floating inside this hollow, empty space.
CHAPTER THREE
BRAND TOOK THE TIME FOR a coffee and to run a few necessary errands before he took himself back to the Harrington Steel tower and his young Master’s office.
In truth, he needed a touch of time to compose himself as well. While he had not intended to in any way test the young Master, simply oblige him in a more private manner than his usual tabloid scandals…
He had not expected Ashton Harrington to push him away.
Particularly not for those reasons.
Pride and ethics.
Perhaps the young Master was not as the papers had painted him.
He smiled to himself faintly, finished the last of his coffee, and dropped the cup in the bin just inside the top-floor reception area before exchanging a nod with Ms. Vernon and crossing the room to the office door.
He rapped his knuckles briefly to announce himself, then slipped inside. Harrington made a small and miserable bundle in the massive desk chair, but he was still there, frowning at the screen of his laptop, puzzlement clear on his pretty, rather princely features. When Brand stepped inside, the young Master froze, glancing up at him almost guiltily, before looking away with a quite fetching blush and scowling at the screen.
“You appear confused, young Master,” Brand said. “What are you looking at?”
“I…” Harrington’s voice broke on the first try; he cleared his throat and began again. “I’m not sure. I think it’s an overseas supply contract with a company in India…it…was supposed to take effect yesterday but it doesn’t look like anything’s been done or shipped out. I can’t tell.”
“It’s possible there was an issue with customs, or something was awaiting your signature.” Brand rounded the desk, reclaimed his chair, and reached over to tilt the laptop so they could both read. “Let me see.”