“Then riddle me this,” I said, unwittingly turning toward her and balancing my elbow on the back of the couch. “Why is it that you need to be liked by everyone?”
Her eyes widened, but I continued.
“Why do you need to play the peacemaker? Why must you always find an amicable solution to everything?”
“Because that’s what people do,” she said, tilting her head forward as though implying ‘duh!’.
“Most people wouldn’t involve themselves in everyone’s business.”
Her lips parted in a gasp. “Are you calling me a busybody again?”
“Aren’t you?”
She sputtered. “No! I’m just not cold and unfeeling like you are. The fact that you can berate the employees who work so damn hard for you is beyond me. So what if I like to make sure they’re okay after you tear them to shreds?”
“Like I said this morning,thatis not your job.”
“And likeIsaid, being human should come naturally to everyone. Evidently not to you.”
Her words were meant to bruise, but unfortunately for her, I had heard far worse.
She had almost closed the distance between us. I chose to think it was anger that tugged her forward, but at the back of my mind, I had a niggling feeling it was something else. Something I should nip in the bud.Now.
The scent paradox was in play—a phenomenon I had experienced a handful of times before. My Alpha was very much attracted to the sweetness of the omega in front of me. In return, my pheromones were tugging at hers, willing her to come closer, breathe deeper.
It was the nature of attraction among our kind, but so dangerous when the omega in question was my employee. Myassistant. An omega who was almost fifteen years younger than me.
Not your employee any more,a sinister little voice hissed in my mind. I shut it down with a press of my lips.
She inched closer, her brow raised in question.
“Ms. Nayak.” I forced myself to stop breathing. “Move. Away.”
“Why?” The challenge in her tone brushed across my skin like silk. “My informality seems to be bothering you.”
“It’s not your informality,” I bit out.
A crease formed between her brows. “Then what is it?”
My nostrils flared. Her scent, so close to her mating gland, hit me like a punch to the gut.
When I neglected to say anything further, she spoke again.
“Could it be, Ms. Burns, that you’re trying to find a way to get me to come back?”
A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. That damn cupid’s bow, bare of any gloss or liner, curved like an invitation.
“Why would I?”
“Because you miss me.”
My scoff was a little puff of air between us.
“Unlikely.”
“Your scent says otherwise.”
“Oh really?”
