Chapter 22

"We already agreed to never talk about it, remember?"

"Yeah, so how about we talk about your overtime?" Chase groaned as he watched her lick her lips.

"Of course I know that there’s no need for me to work long hours to get on—although, in fairness, I probably work fewer hours in the winter than my colleagues."

"Ah, yes. Because you’re a creature of the night?"

And just like that, Amaya thought of her dancing years, of those jobs, of dancing and showing herself off in whatever nonsense she was told to put on. A creature of the night doing nighttime jobs. Nothing like her.

"Don’t you ever say that to me!" Amaya blurted out before she could stop herself. She was shaking with anger and stuck her hands under the table on her lap so that he couldn’t see that they were shaking.

"Say what?" Chase asked slowly, his sharp eyes narrowing on her flushed face. "Did I say something wrong?" He frowned and saw her make a visible effort to gather herself. "Tell me what the problem is."

"There isn’t a problem. I’m sorry. I overreacted."

"Firstly, stop apologising for everything you say that you think might offend me. I don’t take offence easily. And secondly, there is a problem. You went as white as a sheet and now you’re shaking like a leaf. What provoked that sudden bout of outrage?"

Curiosity dug deep. Underneath the calm surface, she was a hotbed of emotion, and that intrigued him. He leaned forward, elbows on the table, crowding her.

"You’re trying to think of a polite way of telling me that it’s none of my business, aren’t you?"

Amaya shied away from his searching, narrowed stare. She could feel the full force of his powerful personality like something raw and physical, and it appalled and mesmerised her at the same time. This was evidence of the driving tenacity that had propelled him into the stratosphere of wealth and power, and it went far, far beyond his formidable intelligence and his ambition.

She averted her face, her heart beating wildly. "After that—I mean, after Mary and Tyler’s wedding, I started dancing—not in the group kind of dance," she said flatly.

Why had she just come out with that? She never, ever went there with other people. Her past was a closed book to prying eyes.

"So you’ve been stripping?"

Amaya widened her eyes.

"Yes. I was desperate. I lost my job. Then, a few months later, I found out that I was pregnant, amongst other things. I have no idea why I’m telling you this." She looked at him accusingly from under lowered lashes. "I don’t usually confide in other people. I’m not usually a confident kind of person. I know you think I’m strange, working long hours, but..."

"But you crave financial security for your child?"

"Yes."

"And the father of your child?"

"None of your business."

"One of your customers, perhaps?" he seethed. Asking such things made him want to kill someone.

"I don't need to answer that. Let it be. I'm not going to tell you."

"Okay. So that's why you crave financial security?"

"Crave is a strong word." She smiled tentatively. "But maybe it’s the right one."

She felt a weird sense of release after unburdening herself. Those pregnancy months were an agony of embarrassment. She had made sure never to get too close to anyone. She hadn’t wanted them to find out who the father of her child was.

She’d loved her son, but she had been ashamed of him—and ashamed of being ashamed. And now here was her boss, Chase Johnson, the father of her child, whose lifestyle repulsed her and who represented everything she found distasteful in a man, and the sympathy on his face was like a key unlocking her secrets. Stupid. Really stupid. And somehow dangerous...

"So when I called you a creature of the night…"

"I’m sorry." Mortified, Amaya stared at her empty wine glass and watched as he poured her some more wine. She hadn’t planned on drinking anything at all. Now she wondered how much she had inadvertently downed. Maybe the alcohol had loosened her tongue? She didn’t feel in the least bit tipsy, but why else would she have suddenly turned into a blubbering mess?

"You did it to survive; it's not easy being a single parent," Chase added. "I'm not here to judge you. And what did I tell you about apologising?"

"I work for you," she replied.

"I don't care about what my secretary has done, as long as you do your job."

"Right." Amaya shot him a quick glance and looked away just as fast.

He was just so sinfully good-looking! It shouldn’t do anything for her, because she was the last person on the planet to judge a guy by the way he looked, but her tummy was in knots, and she had to force herself not to stare at that dark, brooding, interested face. She almost had the feeling that, given half a chance, he would be able to reach into her head and pull out her deepest, darkest thoughts.

But she had initiated this whole conversation, and there was a weary acceptance of that in her voice.

"Your parents?" Chase asked.

"I'm an orphan," she lied. "My parents... um, I don't want to talk about them..." She cleared her throat and searched for the brisk, businesslike voice that was so much part and parcel of her persona. Sadly, it was nowhere to be found. Just when she really felt she needed it.

"Okay." Chase had never had the slightest curiosity about the backstories of his women. He was curious now. "I didn't mean to pry. Forget I asked."

Amaya smiled, and Chase felt the breath catch in his throat—a sudden, sharp, shocking reaction that came from nowhere. The woman was beautiful. Just like before, just like how she teased him. Did she deliberately downplay that? This was Pandora's box. She worked for him, and they were here to discuss the future of an employee. Serious stuff. But for the life of him, he didn’t want to let the conversation go.

"Tell me about your son."

"Chase, I don't want—please."

"Why?" Chase murmured huskily.

"I don't know who the father was," she lied.

It took almost three minutes for him to finally change the topic.

"So, about this fiance?" he sneered.

"It's a lie. Gary is making it up to cover my embarrassment."

"So are you in a man-free zone at the moment?"

His thoughts veered wildly into uncharted territory. He pictured her with a man. He pictured her with him. The face she chose to show the world was not the sum total of the person she was. In fact, scratching the surface and the cool, marble exterior gave way to swirling, unpredictable currents.

He had a driving, crazy urge to test those waters.

"I'm too busy to have someone in my life right now."