Chapter 5

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He was furious. Not the blustery, flipping out type of anger like in road rage, but a cold, controlled simmer that was way more powerful. He'd spoken so quietly that, if he hadn't taken hold of her arm she wouldn't have known he was there. But he had and he was, and the intensity of emotion she saw in Alexios's face startled Sydney.

As she automatically pulled out of his grasp, she met his steely gaze. Those dark eyes flashed at her dramatically. Held her gaze like a laser. Their faces were so close she could see the muscle in his jaw flex as he ground his teeth against whatever else he wanted to say to her. And she hated herself for finding his anger sexy.

Giving Alexios a short nod of acknowledgement, Sydney turned to James, who was counting money for one of the waitresses, and said, "Take over a moment, would you, James?"

The youth glanced up with a grin, which slipped off his face when he saw the boss behind the bar. "Sure thing, Syd," he answered quickly, looking back at what he was doing as though, if he couldn't see Alexios, then the older man wasn't there. Sydney knew she was on her own.

Leading the way, she headed for the supply room door located behind them. As she passed through it, the noise immediately receded, though they could still hear sounds above them from the band. She turned to face Alexios as the door closed behind him.

He stood in front of her, glowering, hands on narrow hips, suit jacket pushed back by his elbows. His short hair stood on end, as if he'd run irritated fingers through it. He probably had.

"What the hell were you thinking, lighting shots like that? Do you know how dangerous that is?-" He fired the first round, and Sydney took immediate umbrage at his accusatory tone.

"No, really? I've been a bartender for five years and never knew that."

He narrowed his eyes at her sarcasm, their brown depths spitting flames. It was her turn to rest hands on hips. He followed the movement when she did so. And took a deep breath, chest rising under its snowy covering. She caught herself taking in its breadth and width and quickly met his gaze.

"There's no need to be sarcastic, Miss Hughes. If something was to go awry, it would be my ass on the line-"

"Didn't you hire me for my showmanship?" She waited for his acknowledgement, took the single blink of his eyes as a "yes." And continued. "You're lucky I downgraded from a Flaming Lamborghini, which really packs them in." He opened his mouth to interrupt, but she overrode him, taking satisfaction in the way his perfect lips compressed into a thin line at her boldness.

"I know my craft, Mr. Verga, so allow me to do it or cut me loose. What I don't need is some handsome, lazy, playboy dabbling in his daddy's business, presuming to tell me what to do when it's obvious he doesn't have the first clue how to run a successful liquor venture."

As her words echoed around them in the sudden silence from above and within, Sydney belatedly realized she'd probably just overstepped her bounds. In a big way.

Had she really just called him lazy? A playboy? That he didn't know his business? To his face? A sudden twinge of unease pinched her. After all, this job was supposed to help her father clear his medical debts. Let him go into his golden years unencumbered, and here she was, shooting herself in the foot. Hell, she'd just blasted it off with a bazooka.

She'd advanced on Alexios during her mini diatribe, and now stood barely three feet away from him. The heat from his body at this close range enveloped her. She could read the disbelief at her words in his expression.

A tingle of male/female awareness sizzled through her when their eyes met yet again. She went hot, then cold under his continued scrutiny, melted wherever it touched, on her breasts, her hips, and then back to her face. And realized that, out of all the good-looking, eligible men in the world, she was attracted to her player boss.

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