He recovers quickly, his smile gone now. He manages to get in a few hits, but the majority go to me.
“Protect your left side,” I bark at him.
He laughs. “So bossy.”
“I’m desperately trying not to damage that beautiful face of yours, but you’re making it too goddamn easy.”
He puffs out air. “Cocky, are we, Miss Riley? And did you now promote me to beaut—”
He doesn’t finish the sentence as a series of punches steals the air from his lungs. He taps out.
I step back, allowing him to crumple at the waist, gasping for breath.
When he recovers enough to speak, he says, “Once again, don’t ever let me get on your bad side, Miss Riley. If that was only a fraction of what you can do, I have no desire to know what one hundred percent looks like.”
I laugh, which has Owen straightening and meeting my blue eyes with his green ones.
“I must admit, Mr. Mills, that was quite fun. You also don’t give yourself much credit. You’re the strongest partner I’ve had in a long time.”
It’s the truth. We used to have boxing competitions with the field agents. I won almost every one of them. The only person who could ever beat me was Declan, and now that he’s the director, he doesn’t compete. As a result, I don’t either. I don’t find them quite the same as they used to be.
This match with Owen was a surprise. A good surprise. One that has the rage melting away as he stares at me.
“That was definitely not on your resume, Miss Riley.”
I laugh again. “Didn’t know that was a necessary skill to list for a personal assistant position.”
He studies me with such intensity that I want to cower, but I hold my ground.
“It sure is an interesting one. Who taught you to fight like that?” he asks.
I run a hand across my sweaty brow, suddenly needing to look anywhere but at him. “After my father died, a friend of mine taught me. He said it’d help with the grief. And the anger.” None of it is a lie, and I wonder why the hell I am telling him so many truths. This isn’t the role I’m supposed to be playing. I’m supposed to be someone else.
“And does it?”
I look up at his calculating eyes. “Yes.”
My stomach twists as his dimple appears. “Well then, I’ll see you here again tomorrow. Same time.”
Nodding, though I can’t fathom why I’m agreeing, I move toward the bathroom. “As long as I don’t have to walk in on any naked or half-naked women, you have a deal.”
Owen chuckles. “No naked women. I promise.”
I open the door to the bathroom, grabbing my bag on the way.
“Oh, and Miss Riley?”
I turn my head, gripping the handle of the door.
“I knew you thought I was beautiful.”
Chapter 8
Traversing the wide-open office space, where people both socialize and work, Owen leads me to the conference room on the opposite side. He’s walking next to me, closer than necessary, and the hair on my arms stands on end, but not out of fear.
It’s aggravating how much his nearness affects me.
“I need you to take notes,” Owen explains as people eye us with curiosity. “I won’t always be able to attend these meetings, and I want you to be able to facilitate them. This one is with a few of my smaller charities.”
