Page 10 of Texting the Possessive CEO
Kenny looks up, spots me, and smiles tightly. He stands and walks over. “Need help, boss?”
“No,” I say, and almost add,You can call me Dom.
Sometimes I think my so-called friendliness is at odds with how grim I can be.
“I need to speak with Izzy.”
His eyebrows shoot up. Maybe I let too much huskiness into my voice.
I walk past him, deciding to get this over with. But Izzy has disappeared. I notice the door to the corridor swinging slightly on its hinges. I push through, then wait for her to emerge from the bathroom.
She stops mid-step, startled. “Oh,” she murmurs.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” I tell her, opening my fist. “You dropped this in my office.”
“It’s the clasp,” she murmurs, reaching for it. “It sticks and doesn’t close properly sometimes.”
I step closer to her. Her perfume swirls around me, flowery and feminine. A hungry heat stirs inside me, but I pretend it doesn’t exist.
“Let me try,” I say.
She stares at my big, calloused hand, the corner of her mouth curving in a wry smile. “It’s quite a delicate job,” she says quietly.
“I can be more delicate than you’d expect,” I say, stepping even closer. “May I?”
She slowly nods her head up and down, her lips parting slightly. “Uh, sure.”
We both know this is strange. But right now, apparently, neither of us cares. She hands me the necklace back. Our fingers touch, hot and electrified. Is this what chemistry feels like?
She tilts her head forward, exposing the nape of her neck. I want to lean in and kiss that sliver of skin so badly it hurts. I should run, but it’s the last thing I want to do.
“You’ll feel it stick,” she murmurs. “You have to push the clasp in for it to close properly.”
“I’ll be careful,” I say softly, guiding the necklace around her neck. I pull so the claw will open, and then push it back in so the clasp will close.
“There,” I say, stepping away, my hands trembling slightly.
She looks up at me with flushed cheeks. “Thank yo?—”
The door opens, Kenny heading for the bathroom.
I turn and walk away so fast I’m almost running.
CHAPTER 5
IZZY
Ileave the hospital, tears in my eyes. Grandma is having one of her bad days, making it so the doctors have had to dose her up to the eyeballs to deal with the pain. She mostly just stared at me, lips pursed. For a scary second, it was like she was mad at me for letting her suffer. Like it was my fault.
I try to push the thought from my mind, but my mood just grows sour when I see Aaron Pike waiting in the parking lot, leaning against his gaudy sports car. Aaron is a big man, wide at the shoulders, with a thick red-gray beard and a shaved head. He looks more like an Irish gangster than a corporate mogul.
“My darling spy,” he says. “How is the old gal?”
I repress a derisive laugh, but my face must tell a different story.
“You don’t think I care,” he mock pouts.
If you cared, you wouldn’t be using her as leverage.
