Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25739 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25739 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
He sets me on my feet and I can’t make eye contact with him because my pulse is still racing from the intense rush of desire that flooded me with the simplest, least romantic touch.
“I’m terribly sorry,” I apologize again. “I didn’t mean to bump into you.”
“Obviously,” he mutters.
Confused by his tone, I want to duck and hide somewhere, maybe let the ground swallow me up whole. Instead, I remember that I’ve just knocked down our belongings. I drop down to my knees and begin picking up the mess, including the ruined petals. He helps me, snatching up his documents in haste.
“These are for you.” I look at him, stunned by the fact that he’d bring me roses. Thrilled, pleased, and shocked.
Reading my expression, he quickly responds, “Oh, they’re not from me.” My face turns purple with utter embarrassment. Could this day get any more messed up?
“Of course not. I hadn’t expected you to send me flowers. I’m just surprised that he would send them here,” I lie, tossing out an imaginary boyfriend. I hope he doesn’t think it’s Clark. We’re friends, but he’s not my type.
“Yes, well this isn’t the place for it.” He’s quick to snap back.
“I’m sorry.” I take them from him and wonder who the hell sent them because I don’t have a boyfriend and I most certainly don’t get roses.
I pluck the card off the holder and read it. “Valentine, Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.” I blush because he saw this.
“Get in the office. I have a full day and don’t have time for you to be acting like a lovesick puppy.” Dang, he seems angrier than normal. I knew this would happen if I was late. God, I hope he doesn’t fire me.
“Yes, Mr. King.” I head in as he holds the door open for me, and I walk straight to my desk to see another bouquet of roses. Shit. I’m not sure where all of these are coming from, but I won’t say anything in front of him. I reach for the card, but he growls behind me, causing me to jump.
“Ms. Pernetti, enough with the love notes from your admirers. You have a job to do.”
“Yes, sir. Excuse me.” He’s standing so close that I can’t move around my desk without our bodies brushing against each other. The first touch had been unnerving, but this would break me. I might accidentally cling to him. He has no idea how I wish these beautiful red and white roses were from him.
My crush on Wyatt King is so massive it’s ridiculous.
“Of course.” He steps back and walks to his office. “Don’t cause any more interruptions, Ms. Pernetti, and you know the rules. No uninvited guests into my office.”
“Yes, sir.”
Chapter Eight
Wyatt
If she hadn’t bumped into me, I would have had to make another excuse as to why I smashed the fuck out of those roses. Who the fuck is this prick? I’ve worked with her for less than two months and I’ve never seen her with a boyfriend. Never has there been any sign of a significant other mentioned or seen not that we would have spoken about anything other than work.
I’ve done my best to keep everything professional and always have with my assistants, but never has it been so complicated as with her. Valentine has come into my life, stolen my sanity, my sanctuary, and my ethics. Every single day I’ve fought a battle with myself to go after her only to have lost.
The large fucking arrangement on her desk came from me, but she doesn’t know that because I didn’t want to freak her out. I wanted to see her reaction and then some stupid fuck had to leave her roses at the front desk. I hoped to get rid of them once I reached the office, but then I remembered my bouquet and what if the prick called to ask if she got them. She would believe the enormous one came from him.
Jealousy ripped through my chest, thinking about this invisible prick. I knew I should have kept a better eye on her. I should have watched her like a hawk instead of keeping my distance.
Storming into my office in an attempt to get myself under control, I toss my leather satchel on the desk, realizing that I never closed it after it spilled out onto the front hall.
As the content are strewn onto my desk, I find a pink envelope that wasn’t there before. Immediately, I know it’s not mine, but I don’t stop myself from opening it because it’s to her lover and I want to find him and end him. Fuck, how the hell could I have allowed this to happen?
Easy, I’m a fucking prick who doesn’t allow people in. Since the death of my family at sixteen, I haven’t let another soul get close to me. Feelings were for the weak, love for the foolish and here I was feeling the brutality of it all over again. The lost love.