‘Yourjob?’ She shook her head. ‘What’s that, exactly? Swallowing up the little guy?’ A thread of emotion made her voice uneven and she suddenly jumped up.
Edo tensed as she paced towards his end of the room but she backed off, taking the wall opposite his.
Accusation gleamed in her gaze as she hissed at him. ‘George built this company from the ground up over decades and you’re just going to gobble it in one bite. His name gone for ever.’
He folded his arms across his chest as grim amusement—combined with irritation—ran through him. ‘Your loyalty is sweet but blind.’
Apparently she’d started working here after returning from her trip to Italy and while she’d thoroughly impressed George in these few short months, it wasn’t enough for the old boy to confide in her completely. This gave him perverse pleasure—the ultimate personal assistant clearly wasn’t perfect. And she certainly was willing to think the worst of him.
‘Georgeaskedme to take over,’ he said. He’d met George at industry events several times in the last decade. They’d always got on well and Edo had been touched when George had asked him for help. ‘Scott Insurance doesn’t actually meet my usual acquisition standards, however I’m willing to make an exception for an unwell, aging associate.’
He’d done this entirely as a favour to George, only now it had backfired in a wholly unexpected way.
‘Unwell?’ she echoed, her expression troubled.
‘You’ve obviously not been working here long enough to have George’s complete confidence and his personal life isn’t something I’m prepared to share with you.’
Looking stung, she bit her lip. ‘Is he going to be okay?’
The concern in her eyes forced him to relent. ‘He’s ready to enjoy his retirement.’
‘His grandchildren,’ she said softly.
‘Yes.’
Okay so George had talked to her a little. Of course Edo had wanted to support the elderly man in his desire to prioritise his grandchildren, especially given his own grandfather hadn’t at all. He’d abandoned Dante—Edo’s brother—in his most desperate hour. Ignored Edo’s entreaties in the most inhuman, callous of ways. And in the end, the worst had happened. Edo understood how much familyoughtto matter, which was also why he would never have one of his own. He—like his grandfather—wasn’t equipped to care for and protect anyone other than himself. But Phoebe’s snap judgement about this acquisition and her denial of everything between them stung. ‘I’m not the bad guy here.’
He was determined never to be the bad guy. That was why he remained alone.
She glared at him. ‘I thought you worked on a vineyard.’
‘In my holidays I do.’
‘You expect me to believe that a billionaire enjoys menial work in theholidays?’ She lifted her eyebrows.
‘It’s my vineyard and, yes, I greatly enjoy working with my hands.’
She shot him a death stare. He would smile but he was too pissed off at himself to be able to. He was letting her get to him. But it hadn’t been some littleincidentand no way had sheforgottenabout it. That flicked like a whip on a raw welt and pushed him to test if it were true.
He slowly crossed the floor. They were far enough from those frosted windows but in his flash of temper he no longer gave a damn about anyone seeing them anyway. He just had to get closer to her and—
‘How’s your ankle?’ he asked huskily, skimming a glance down her body as he inched nearer.
‘Fine.’ She stood stiffly.
The closer Edo got, the more he drank in her features—the clarity of her deep-blue eyes, the delicate swirls of her ears, her enticing full lips. Desire washed over him, obliterating all thought. He hovered a breath away, barely holding back. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted her heat, her sighs, her softness, her sensational response to having him thrust—
No way could he work alongside her.
The electricity in his body short-circuited his brain.
‘My personal assistant will fly out and work with George,’ he snapped.
‘You’re side-lining me?’ She gaped. ‘Why?’
He couldn’t be near her. ‘Because ifyou’remy assistant here, we’ll have to work in close proximity.’
‘And?’ She tilted her head and shot him down, saltiness blooming in her eyes. ‘That’s no reason why we can’t work together. We’re adults. We’re professional.’
