“Tell me, Jasmine, are you one of those girls—”
The hard slam of Sophie’s bedroom door across the corridor snaps the tension in one go.
Mr. Grayson steps back like he’s been burned.
The heat rushes out of me all at once, leaving a shaky hollowness behind.
I laugh—or something like it. It comes out choked and weird. Frantically, I search for something to say so I don’t lose the few inches of ground I’ve gained.
“Actually,” I can’t help running my hand over my belly, “I have a reason to butter you up this morning.”
Mr. Grayson considers me, something flitting in his gaze. Then, with a dramatic flair, he presses a palm to his chest. “I knew it. You with your nefarious ulterior motives.”
I smirk, but my pulse is still in my throat. That unspoken thread between us? Tighter now. Or maybe I’m imagining it. Maybe it’s always just me, reading into crumbs. A breath. A glance.
“There’s a family event in a few days. My cousin Sonia—do you remember me telling you about her?”
“The ER nurse who lives on Whidbey Island?”
I blink. Warmth uncurls in my belly. I didn’t fall for my powerful, billionaire boss just because he’s gorgeous.
I fell for the kind, attentive, honorable man who remembers every little thing I’ve told him. The man who’s always made me feel seen.
It’s a high unlike anything I’ll ever know. And I want more.
“Jasmine?”
“Yeah, that’s Sonia,” I say, now clear on what I need to do. “One of the few relatives on my mom’s side who lives close. She’s getting married in a civil ceremony, but the reception is Friday night.”
“You need a car for the weekend? Cash for the gift?” he asks. Like he hasn’t looked out for me in a hundred quiet ways over the years.
I smile and shake my head, my heart overflowing with tenderness and gratitude.
Outside the four walls of this penthouse, I’m all on my own. I pay my bills, take care of my health, make choices for my future. And I do it well, because Mom raised me to be strong and independent.
But inside these walls, under his roof, I become this needy, craving thing that wants to surrender to him. That wants to belong to him in every possible way.
His gaze hitches for a second on my mouth. “Why don’t you ask Sophie to bring you to one of those designer boutiques and pick a dress for the wedding? You girls could make a day out of it.”
“Oh, I already bought a dress,” I say. “But thank you. This is more along the lines of...” I hesitate, the fear of being rejected twisting my belly in a tight knot.
As he moves, he’s cast in shadows. His voice sounds distant but demanding at the same time. “You’re not quitting on me, are you, Jasmine?”
My heart drops—he’s voicing the same thought that’s been haunting me of late. And there’s real worry in his voice.
It makes something hot and reckless unfurl inside me. And something else too—guilt.
He’s the one who pays me. Who gives me this cushy life.
I don’t pay rent or for groceries or even for new clothes most times. Everything I make on this job, and my slow but steady paychecks as the erotic audiobook narrator, go into my savings account for a rainy day.
I owe him my loyalty and, as Sophie’s caretaker, the truth about her plans.
But she’s my best friend—the girl who befriended the shy, plain girl back in fifth grade and never let go. She’s fragile in health and bold in spirit, and I want her to find her way.
She hasn’t told him about the college plans, and I can’t be the one to betray her confidence. Especially since I know how much her decision will hurt him too. I’m caught between them.
“Jasmine?” Mr. Grayson’s tone is sharp in the silence.
