“Despite you swooping in to be the hero, I did nothing wrong, and this has absolutely nothing to do with you.”
“So intentionally harming an employee is fine with you?”
He scoffs. “I mean that this isn’t a normal employee relationship. So you can fuck off back to your office now and pretend that you didn’t come over here to spy on me.”
“Meynard,” I say, “I didn’t actually come over here to spy on you. Why? Because my proposal is excellent and I have no need to spy on you. And whatever you think of me, I came over because I actually care about the employees here.”
He laughs, and I hate the sound. “Tell yourself whatever you want. But you’re not needed here. This is Chianna. She’s an intern. Despite our relationship outside the office, I informed her that hugging me here wasn’t appropriate. So you can calm down and get off your chivalrous bullshit.”
I look down at the gorgeous woman in front of me. Chianna. Her name rings in my mind like a bell. I can’t believe this beautiful woman is with Meynard. Red is framing my vision and my pulse has kicked up a few beats, but I manage to say, “It’s nice to meet you, Chianna.”
2
Chianna
I wish that the earth would just open up and swallow me whole right about now. I knew Uncle Meynard was a hard ass when I took this job, but seeing it firsthand—especially in front of one of his colleagues—is something else.
His extraordinarily hot colleague. Like holy fuck, the man is sex walking, but I can’t show that right now. Even a hint of that and I’ll get more of a lecture than I was already getting before the knight in shining armor rode in in the first place.
But still…sex walking. Not that I would know much about that. Sex for me is reserved for romance novels, movies, and the brief moments I steal in darkness before I let my own mortification get the better of me.
It’s not that I don’t want that. I do. It’s just that I’ve been busy. Success comes from getting your hands dirty. That’s what my mom always used to say. And for me? That meant putting dating and relationships aside so that I could focus on my schoolwork and career. I don’t regret it.
Most days.
Sometimes it feels weird to the only virgin among my friends. I’ve never admitted it. I don’t want to tell them I’m twenty and have zero experience. Someday I’ll have my own stories to tell. In the meantime, I just laugh with them and toast to their romantic mishaps.
I guess I won’t have to worry about that for a bit. New York isn’t even close to where I’m from, and Uncle Meynard is being more than kind letting me stay with him and also pulling the strings to get me this internship. Some people would argue that’s what a guardian is supposed to do. But honestly, he’s been hands-off with me. He let me stay where I was to finish high school, and let me go to college early.
Now that I’m out, he’s only my official guardian until I turn twenty-one. Then everything that was my mother’s that’s held in trust for me is mine. And I can go and do whatever I please. That’s okay. This is where I want to be.
Or I’d felt that way until about five minutes ago when he started to use me in whatever competition that he has going with the hot as fuck stranger. And now he’s flat out told this man that I’m an intern. The tone of his voice makes it clear exactly what he thinks of that, no matter if he’s the one who got me the job.
“Speaking of,” my uncle says, “time for you to get back to work.”
He storms off down the hall toward his office, and I’m left standing with the man that makes me want to stare at him until his image is burned on my eyes like I’ve looked at the sun too long. Kris Canterbar. I know who he is, but seeing him in person is way different from seeing the photos of him in tech magazines.
My would-be savior is glaring in the direction that my uncle disappeared. Such visceral anger that it almost takes me back a step. Then his face softens, and he smiles at me. Holy shit.
Like holy fucking shit.
The man has a smile that can paralyze you in place. There’s no way that I’ll be able to move again because I’m basking in the warmth of that smile.
“Chianna, huh?”
I stare at him, and it takes a second to process that he’s actually speaking to me. “What?”
He grins again. “Your name is Chianna? How long have you and Meynard been dating?”
“Yes. That’s me.” I feel a flush rush up my chest and face and I snort laugh. Dating! Nice, Chi. “No, no, no. You misunderstood. He and I aren’t dating. He’s my uncle.”
He raises his eyebrows and his tense jaw relaxes. Why would he look relieved to hear that I’m Meynard’s niece? Looking at me up and down, he holds out his hand. “I’m—”
“Kris Canterbar,” I say. “One of Core Tech’s top execs along with my uncle and a few others, and one of the frontrunners for the new European expansion project.”
Kris’s eyebrows rise. “I’m impressed. You know your way around here already.”
I laugh, though it comes out more nervously than I want it to. “I try. I didn’t want to spend my time learning about the company while I’m here. I’d rather actually learn the business itself.”
“That’s smart,” he says, and reaches out his hand again. “Well, it’s nice to meet you.”
The second that I take his hand, I lose all of my breath. This isn’t a normal handshake. This is like if sex were dressed up as a handshake. The way our hands come together, and the firm grip…
God, I need to get a grip. It’s a fucking handshake. My heart shouldn’t be racing the way it is right now. I shouldn’t be imagining what it would be like to have his hand drift further up my arm and touch me everywhere.
Kris’s hand pulls back from mine slowly. But as he pulls away, his fingers drift along my palm like he’s exploring my skin. For a second—just a second—he weaves our fingers together and caresses my hand. Or maybe I’ve finally gone mad and I’m imagining the whole thing.
Because that can’t have really happened, right?
Right?
A soft laugh from him floats through the air and brushes across my skin.
What is going on with me today? I would never say that I’m the kind of person that’s prone to letting my fantasies get the better of me. But that laugh evokes soft darkness and whispered words. Soft sighs and kisses. Things that I’ve never had and always wanted. And if someone like Kris is making me think these things in the middle of the day at the office? I need to take some personal time with my vibrator so I can manage to be a fucking professional.
Kris tucks his hand into his pocket. Carefully. Gently.
If I didn’t know any better, I might say that he was trying to protect the hand that he shook like some kind of celebrity groupie. Can’t wash the hand that touched mine.
Oh my God, Chianna, get a fucking grip. He’s one of the tech industry’s top executives, not a singer in a boy band. But who am I kidding? With the way he looks—that smile, those eyes, that hair—he’d fit in with any boy band. He’d have women screaming his name and throwing their panties at him in no time.