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Try it On

ROMANY

I jolted, my eyebrows quirking as I placed the pen and signed contract on his desk. "Excuse me?" I quipped. "What did you say?"

"I said, no fucking the bosses."

"Are you trying to insult me?" I asked.

He shook his head, his face serious. "Absolutely not and don't you insult me, by breaking that rule."

This man must be nuts. "The bosses?" What the fuck? What kind of 'bosses'? But of course, I was sure I already knew.

"The bosses," he repeated. "My associates. My business partners. Those bosses. You may not fuck them. None of them Not even the ones that I like." His emerald eyes twinkled, falling to half mast. "Not even me."

I smiled widely, trying my best not burst into fits of laughter. Is he flirting with me or... trying to test me? What an ego he must have. "Um. Deal?!"

His brow furrowed as he stood up from his desk to creep toward my seat. "You say that so easily that I can almost believe you."

"Why wouldn't you believe me?" I glared. "I'm not a predator or hooker. I don't just go around fucking people." And for your information, dude, I don't plan on fucking anyone for a very, very long time. Least of all some Black Market Business Tycoon like you.

He nodded, taking a seat on his desk so that he was directly in front of me. "You're young. Innocent. And after you brush your hair and put on some decent clothes, you might even be fairly pretty."

Might? Fuck you dude. But his words had their desired effect. Now, I was fidgeting in my seat, running my hands through my disheveled black hair and twirling one finger over the single silver stripe that caressed the right side of my face. Leave it to a guy like him - a man crafted by the Gods themselves - to make me feel like less of a woman.

"In the unlikely event that they do find you attractive and try for your attentions, I just wanted to be clear."

I'm really starting to despise this man. "Understood," I said nervously.

His eyes seemed to catch on the twirl of my finger in my hair so I clasped my hands together in my lap and took a deep steadying breath. I straightened in my seat, surreptitiously trying to push myself farther away from where he sat on the desk.

"Why did you paint your hair that way?" he asked, reaching forward to brush the pale strands out of my eyes.

I tensed, my body jerking away from his hand. "I like the color," I admitted. "But I'm too much of a chicken to dye the whole thing."

"Fair enough," he said, standing to head for the door, "Follow me please."

"Yes sir," I said under my breath.

"You can call me Alex," he instructed, leading me out of the office toward a wide open staircase at the end of the long hall. "There's an elevator on the opposite side of the house, behind the kitchen. As you will not be assigned to any other floor save the third, you have no business using it. Be certain that you always take the stairs unless given special permission by me or Damien."

"Damien?" I prompted, gazing around at all the modern art that lined the walls. This man likes abstract paintings. The walls of the second floor were a muted shade of gray as opposed to the bright white of the first floor. The higher we climbed, the crazier the art seemed to get and the more it seemed to pop from the walls.

"You'll meet him later. He's away on business at the moment and won't be back until tomorrow night. When I'm not here, he's in charge. He is my bodyguard and the head of security."

"Let me guess. I'm not allowed to fuck him either," I snorted.

"It bothers me that you think my rules are so funny," he complained, turning around so quickly that I stumbled into his chest.

"Shit!" I cursed, my hands going up reflexively to steady myself.

He sucked in a harsh breath, as my palms melded over his pectorals. His hands shot upward, closing over mine almost gently. I lifted my gaze apologetically and I could feel the sting of a blush roasting my cheeks. I tried to remove my hands, but for some reason he wouldn't let me. Instead, he kept them locked there, stapled to his chest. The green of his gaze darkened, his beautiful lashes fluttering low. A muscle ticked in his jaw as his pupils began to dilate and I began to sweat.

"S-sorry," I stammered. "I-I didn't mean to touch you. I-I-"

"Stop," he snapped, letting me go to take my elbow and guide me up the rest of the stairs. "You're clumsier than your cousin, that's for sure."

Clamping my jaw tight in annoyance, I fell into step behind him, mentally cursing the contours of his ass as they winked ahead of me with every step. Jesus. I wonder what those muscles would feel like beneath my hands.

“This is you,” he said, opening the door at the very end of the hallway and motioning me inside.

The light went on as I stepped into the space, revealing an elegantly decorated sitting room complete with loveseat, fireplace, a writing desk, and a flat screen t.v. There was even an ottoman with a red chenille throw tossed over the top of it and a set of glass doors that opened onto a small balcony. I did my best to keep my jaw from falling open in amazement, but I failed.

“Whose room was this?” I whispered, walking toward the small bookshelf in the corner and running my fingers over the assortment of novels.

“Who cares,” he snapped, stomping past me toward the bedroom. “It’s yours now. You’ll find your uniform in the closet in your bedroom. Try it on."

"N-now?" I stepped in behind him just as he took a seat at the edge of a beautifully decorated queen sized bed.

Leaning his weight back on his elbows, he was practically laying down. He nodded. "Now. I need to know that it fits you properly."

"Um... okay," I said stumbling toward the closet and pulling out the tiny french maid uniform hanging just above my luggage. Someone must have brought it up from the car when we were in his office. I stared at it for a cool minute, studying the puffed sleeves, tight bodice, and low-cut neckline. I could feel DeMarco's eyes on me, challenging me.

He doesn't think I'll try it on. He wants me to chicken out. I stepped toward the bathroom.

"Uh-uh, no. Right here," he commands me. "Try it on right here. I want to watch you put it on."

What... the... fuck?

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