Page 4 of Mason

Mason’s lips twitch. I look away long enough to draw in a steadying breath.

He rests his palms on the edge of his desk, and lowers his gaze to stare at me with implacable resolve.

His entire expression seems to say, you’re wasting my time.

You will never work for me.

Instead of intimidating me, it only fuels my resolve. I am not leaving this office without a fight.

“If you’d bothered to read my resume, you’d note that I always succeed when I should fail,” I tell him. My references will back that up, if Mason could just see past his stubbornness and give me a chance. I exhale fast. “I won’t bail when the going gets tough.” My voice quiets. “I thrive on challenge. It’s what fires me up. Give me the opportunity to show you that I won’t take the easy way out.”

His thin, well-shaped lips curve. “In other words, you like it rough?”

Chapter 3

The tone of his voice is so overtly sexual, an unfamiliar feeling begins to unravel from deep within my core, and it takes all my effort not to gasp aloud. I cross my legs, embarrassed by the unexpected tingle between my thighs. Positive that Mason can see exactly how his words have affected me, I try to avert my gaze. I can’t. I’m drowning under the icy depths of his stare. A chill reverberates along my skin.

I clear my throat. “Give me a shot.”

Daylight Holdings isn’t my only option—in fact, I’m still waiting to hear back on another interview. Solid company, well-respected CEO. A good job—but not the very cream of the crop.

This is the top of the mountain.

This is everything I aspire to.

Working for Mason Wood and becoming the best of the very best.

He watches me for a very long time, seeming to assess me anew. “Fine,” he says, suddenly, and rather casually.

Momentarily confused, I blink. “Fine?”

Mason pushes up off his desk and goes over to the window, hands in his pockets. He stares at the sprawling Financial District below while I unabashedly stare at his ass. It’s a damn fine ass, and for a moment, a brief distraction from the tornado of emotions wreaking havoc on my nerves.

“I’ll give you a chance to prove yourself, Miss Landers,” he says. “But—”

My stomach clenches.

“—not as a day trader. You’ll have to earn that. You’ll start as my personal assistant.”

I can feel the dread unfurling within my chest, and my cheeks flush with anger. To think he can snub his nose at my resume and offer me some kind of low level pity position? Fuck that. I’d rather work at McDonalds. “I’m over qualified for that job.”

Which is something he’d know if he bothered to actually interview me.

Mason turns around and leans up against the windowsill. Early morning sunlight cuts through the glass and forms a distorted halo around his hair. He may look like an Adonis, but his devilish grin is pure evil.

“My personal assistant makes more than most junior traders in this town,” he says. His eyebrows pinch together. “I assumed you’d be happy with any position in this company—within reason, of course.”

Restless energy thrums through me. I’m sweating bullets. “I didn’t apply for that job. I didn’t go to school—“

“Certainly, in all your research, you’ve learned that Daylight Holdings is not only the best hedge fund company in the state, but is also one of the top ten places in the world to work. And our benefits are beyond compare,” he purrs.

My pulse spikes. He’s not wrong. Still, the offer feels like a slight. I think back to the pretty receptionist operating the front desk, and try to remember if I’ve seen other women in the building. Is it possible my gender is more the issue here, rather than the qualifications he hasn’t bothered to ask about?

My spine stiffens. “Since you haven’t even glanced at my resume, I can’t help but wonder if there isn’t a bit of misogyny going on.”

Mason’s eyes harden. “I’d advise you to retract that statement. If you’d truly done your homework as thoroughly as you suggest, you’d know that Daylight Holdings employs more female traders than any other hedge fund across the globe.”

There’s an ominous undertone to his voice that makes my skin break out into goose bumps. Maybe I should back down, but my hackles are on full alert. “Must be nice to have a personal harem around.”