“What does Kingston think about you befriending me?”
“Kingston suggested it,” she says without hesitation. “He doesn’t want it to look like Bronx’s wife is in hiding.”
The corner of my mouth twitches. “So this is an assignment.”
“This is me wanting adult conversation that doesn’t involve business deals. We’ll have a few glasses of champagne, check out the artwork and chat. That’s all. Or maybe it’s too soon for you to leave your new husband. Maybe things in the bedroom are too hot to walk away from?”
When she giggles, my chest tightens, and my fingers clamp around the phone.
“Oh, please,” I scoff. “The only thing between me and him is a wall of pillows.”
“Right…” Livvie hums. “So are you coming with me or not? You can stay in that penthouse and analyze my motives, or you can join me.”
My gaze drifts past the sitting room toward Bronx’s office door, shut since early morning. Lucky for him, he has work to bury himself in, calls to take, and problems to solve.
Meanwhile, I’ve been drifting through this place like a tumbleweed, waiting for him to reappear and poke at my temper.
“Okay,” I say finally. “I’ll go with you.”
“Make sure you wear a cute dress,” she says, and hangs up before I can argue.
I stare at the blank screen. “What the fuck is a cute dress?”
Getting to my feet, I cross the sitting room and pause at Bronx’s office door before knocking. I don’t know why I do it, but I take a breath in too.
“Come in, princess,” he calls from the other side.
When I open the door, he’s sitting behind a tidy desk with a phone pressed to his ear. My pulsepicks up at the sight of him in a black fitted shirt and his dark hair all mussed up.
He pulls the phone away from his face and keeps his eyes on me. “You don’t need to knock. Come and sit on my lap.”
I scowl at him. “Why the hell would I do that?”
“Because you came in here to see me.” He brings the phone back to his ear. “I’ll call you back, my wife wants her husband’s attention, and she gets all of me.”
He smirks when I make a face at him, then tosses his phone onto the desk and fixes his eyes on the monitor to his left.
“Come here, I need to show you something,” he says, his tone suddenly serious.
I’m at his side in a few quick strides, staring at the screen and expecting to learn something about the teams who were watching me.
The next thing I know, he’s pushing his chair back, circling my waist and dragging me onto his lap so I’m sitting sideways across him.
“Jesus, Bronx,” I huff. “You said you had something to show me.”
His devastating grin dimples his cheek, and the deep laugh rumbling from his chest makes my pulse stutter.
“I’m showing you what’s expected when you enter my office,” he says. “My wife sits on my knee, slides her arm around my neck and kisses me.”
“I didn’t come in here to be close to you.”
When I try to stand, he cuffs my wrists with one hand and slides the other into my hair at the nape. “Stay where you are.”
“You know I could break your arm, Bronx,” I grit, even though the heat of him bleeds into me and I like it.
Bronx sighs. “Then tell me why you knocked so very respectfully on my door, if you didn’t want to sit on my lap as my good little wife.”
I roll my eyes, ignoring the flutters in my chest. “Livvie invited me to a charity event tomorrow.”
