Yes. It was a full-on insane thing to do and not at all like me, but I’d done it. A calculated move, knowing it was dark out and would win me what I wanted.

I shrugged. “What can I say? I really wanted to go to Milan.”

“I would’ve taken you anyway.”

Ugh. Asshole! “So I just ran without a shirt for a quarter mile and would’ve gotten to go anyway?”

“Not really. But I wanted to make you feel bad. By the way, has anyone ever told you you’re completely mad?”

I laughed and turned around to unravel my tank top and slip it over my head, a huge smile on my face. “So, what time do we leave for the air—”

I suddenly felt his hot sweaty body pressed up against my back, his one hand on my bare waist, the other sweeping my long hair to one side. “No need to put that back on.”

My breath caught in my throat. “Wha-wha-what are you doing?” I whispered, feeling his hands slide up the front of my body and begin touching my breasts over my bra. He was hard. Really, really hard, and straining against my lower back.

“I think that’s fairly obvious; keeping our deal,” he said, his hot breath tickling my neck.

I was about to say something to explain how I didn’t really want him to do what he was doing, but it would’ve been a lie. The heat of his skin on my back, his hard cock pressing into me while his hands massaged my breasts felt better than anything I’d ever experienced.

His lips trailed down the side of my neck and stopped right on the little spot where my shoulder started.

How was this happening? Because wasn’t he…didn’t he have that problem with…?

“Oh my God. That feels…that feels…” My words faded as one of his hands left my breast and slid down my stomach, reaching to rub me over my thin shorts. I let out a little moan.

“Mmmm…your body is amazing,” he said. “So fucking sexy.”

His words shocked and excited me. No one had ever used the word “sexy” to describe me. Not once.

Then reality arrived like a boulder on my head. He didn’t like me. Not even a little. This really, truly wasn’t what I wanted. A fuck. With some guy who had serious issues just looking at me.

And he’s your boss. Doesn’t get much more screwed up than that.

I grabbed his hand. “Stop. Please,” I said.

“Ah. I wondered when your weak spine would make an appearance.”

I stepped away from him and went for my tank, which was a white little wad on the dock, barely visible. I slid it over my head. “I changed my mind. That’s all.”

“Why?” he said.

This time when I turned to face him, I wasn’t wishing I could see his face; I was wishing he could see mine. This was painful for me. “I’m not comfortable discussing it with you.”

He chuckled. “The topless runner is timid all of a sudden?”

He had a point, but being a little ballsy wasn’t the same as exposing yourself emotionally. Those were two different animals. And a man who’d posed nude—practically nude—should know the difference.

“No. I just really don’t want to have this conversation with you—my boss,” I said flatly.

“Don’t pull the boss card. I shared my secret with you. You can share yours.”

Why the hell did he even care? I was just a therapy tool for his phobia. And to be frank with myself, I wondered how he’d planned to finish what he’d started. Would we be in the dark so he could imagine some other woman’s face?

God, how degrading.

“All right,” he said, “if you don’t want to tell me, then I’ll guess. You’ve never been fucked before. And you’re probably stuck on some fantasy of your first time being with some knight in shining armor who will sweep you off your feet and tell you how beautiful you are.”

“No. I’m not delusional.” But I’d settle for someone who doesn’t find me repulsive.

“Good. Because we don’t get everything we want in life. We just don’t.”

I made a little half-laugh. It was what my parents always said. “Trust me. I know.”

“Then what is the issue?”

“Why do you care?” I asked.

“Answer my question, and I’ll answer yours.”

“Fine. I never wanted to sleep with you.” My words came out all rushed like a Band-Aid coming off.

“Really?” He laughed. “I hope you don’t think me an arrogant prick—oh yes, you already do—so there’s no harm in saying I think you’re full of shit.”

This man was…he was…

Sharp.

I suddenly felt the undeniable and simultaneous need to hide myself and open up. He was just that magnetic. Like a weird madness I felt the need to invite into my life.

I took a breath. “When I asked you to have sex with me, it was just something that came out of my mouth on the spur of the moment because I’d wanted to punish you with a nasty, spiteful price tag after you told me why you really wanted to hire me.”

“I wanted,” he said slowly with a deep, sincere voice, “to hire you because I like you. I like the fact that you’re genuine and say what’s on your mind. I admire that. Quite a lot, actually. You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”

My heart fluttered. It was a really, really nice compliment. Especially coming from someone who didn’t seem to hand them out so freely.

“Thank you,” I said.

“And to answer your question, regarding why I’m curious about your sudden lack of interest in fucking me, it’s because I think you have potential, but not the backbone to truly pursue what you want, without shame, without asking for forgiveness. You behave like you don’t deserve a seat at the table because your face isn’t perfect.”

Oh my God. This guy wasn’t afraid to say anything. He brought the art of bluntness to a whole new level. “Well, if you haven’t noticed, I’m not like everyone else. It hasn’t been easy, but I’ve managed to make it this far.”

“Being audacious is not enough, Miss Snow. You have to believe you deserve the things you want and expect them to happen. Then you need the determination to see them through despite the obstacles. But you behave like a second-class citizen; it’s written all over your body—the way you carry yourself.”

I wanted to react to his words with the typical denials and arguments most of us throw up when we’re told something unpleasant about ourselves; however, his statement genuinely hobbled me, like being slapped in the face and waking up. I had been seeing the world through my face, always feeling just a little unsure of myself, like I was just one notch below everyone else.

I groaned and pinched the bridge of my nose.

“Well, I’m glad we had this little chat,” he said. “But I’ve got a company to run and problems to deal with, and I’m not paying you to sit around and snivel. So if you’re not in the mood for fucking, you can shower in the bathroom just off the foyer. We leave in ten.”

Oh, look. The asshole is back. “Ten minutes? Wooow,” I yelled as he walked away. “Good thing that fuck is off the table. I’d be finishing the job alone, you big stallion.”

He laughed, his deep wholly masculine voice cutting through the darkness. “The fuck is not off the table.”

What? I tensed for a moment until I realized he was just messing with me. “Yes, it is!” I screamed back. “And I want stock options.”

“No!”

“But you’re mean! I don’t want you and never will!”

“You’re lying. And a deal is a deal, Miss Snow! Get your ass in the shower, because I wait for no one.”

Crap. What if he wasn’t kidding?

Of course he’s joking. And if not, it wasn’t like he could fire me for backing out. In fact, now that I thought it through, I was probably the least fireable person on his staff—not that getting fired was ever my concern; I’d wanted his respect. Nevertheless, it had only just dawned on me what a huge risk he’d taken with me, which was probably why he’d talked to Mark Douglas about my trustworthiness. I already knew enough to ruin his reputation, and he had to realize that.