I will not cry, I will not cry, I repeated the mantra over and over as my new boss—soon to be my old boss—yelled at me. I was being fired for the first time in my life, and it sucked.
I bit my lip, fighting back tears. I'd never been able to stand confrontational situations, and although I considered myself fairly strong-willed, I had no tolerance for shouting. My parents had always talked things out calmly and rationally, so when the yelling started, I didn't know how to deal with it.
If someone were unjustly picking on me, I'd stand up for myself. As it was, I thoroughly deserved the dressing-down I was getting. Which made the urge to cry all the more difficult to resist.
What kind of inexperienced idiot spilled drinks all over the host of the party that they were catering? Now the Clearys would probably never hire Carly's Catering again, and landing this event had been the best thing that had ever happened to the company.
I felt like shit. I mumbled my earnest apologies and offered to stay and help in the kitchen for free for the rest of the night. Carly agreed with a stiff nod and abruptly left me so she could work on salvaging the evening.
I went about my tasks mechanically, putting myself of dishwashing duty as extra penance for my fuck-up. After several hours of avoiding the staff's glares, the party finally began to wrap up, and I prepared to leave.
I untied my apron and headed for the door, but I paused when someone tapped on my shoulder. Turning, I noticed the butler who'd admitted me to the ballroom. His censorious frown let me know Carly wasn't the only one aghast at my bumbling mistake, and he spoke to me in clipped tones.
"Are you Mallory Williams?" he asked.
My stomach sank as I nodded. This couldn't be anything good.
"Mr. Cleary would like to speak with you."
My stomach outright dropped, as though the ground had fallen away beneath me. I swallowed and forced a small, genial smile.
"Okay. I just need to straighten up a few more things," I lied.
I returned to the kitchen, fussing over drying a few dishes until the man left the room. Then I darted for the door.
I couldn't bring myself to face Jake Cleary. I'd been yelled at enough for one evening, and I didn't think I could take any more. Especially not from him. I thought of his powerful, intimidating demeanor and suppressed another shiver.
No way could I bear to face him.
Coward, I accused myself.
I shook it off. Why should I care? I'd already been fired, so I didn't have to worry about making Carly look bad by not complying with Mr. Cleary's request. And I was definitely never going to see the too-sexy billionaire again, so what did it matter if he got annoyed that I'd slipped out?
It doesn't matter, I assured myself. Just get home and try to forget this night ever happened.
I climbed into my beaten up old Corolla and shoved down the urge to tear out of the driveway, instead forcing my foot to only gently press the gas and drive at an appropriately slow speed. Within minutes, I'd passed through the tunnel of Oak trees, and my headlights once again illuminated the closed wrought iron gates.
They screen people before they go out, too? What is this guy, some sort of paranoid control freak?
The security guard was at my window again, and I rolled it down with a sigh.
"Miss Williams?" he asked.
"Yes," I answered, surprised he remembered me.
"Wait just a moment please, ma'am." He reached for the walkie-talkie clipped to his belt. "Miss Williams is at the gate," he said into the receiver.
There was a moment of static, then: "Tell her I want to speak to her." Even through the distortion of the radio, I recognized the voice. Jake Cleary.
The guard turned his attention back to me. "Mr. Cleary would like to speak with you."
"Yes, I heard," I said, somewhat snappily. So what, he wasn't going to let me leave his property without personally admonishing me for the stupid mistake I'd made?
I knew he was an asshole. I never should have allowed myself to suspect otherwise. Just because he had a nice smile, that didn't mean he was nice.
The security guard was staring at me expectantly.
"Fine!" I exclaimed, throwing up my hands in exasperated defeat.
"She's on her way, sir," I heard him say into the walkie-talkie as I rolled up my window.
Sure, I'm on my way. I'm on my way to give you a piece of my mind, Jake Cleary.
I made a three point turn and drove back the way I'd just come, muttering curses about elite snobs and their condescending douchebaggery. When the house was back in view, I parked—in the front lot this time—and headed for the non-servant's entrance.
Seething, I boldly knocked on the door, letting some of my anger spill out as I rapped my knuckles on the wood. The resultant sound was sharp and satisfying, even though the impact did make my fingers sting a little. I'd been through too many tumultuous emotions tonight, and I was at the end of my rope. I'd already felt public humiliation and shame. All I'd wanted was to go home and lick my wounds. Now, I'd made it past self-pity and moved into full-on pissed. How dare Jake trap me on his property and corral me back to him for a scolding? What kind of asshole couldn't let an innocent mistake go? He'd made it clear from his treatment of the rest of the staff that he considered them next to invisible. Why did he have to fixate on me?
I prepared a few choice words to hurl at Jake as the door opened, but I quickly swallowed them back as the butler came into view. Jeez, how many people does this guy keep on staff? How difficult could it possibly be to answer your own door?
But Jake wasn't the type to do anything mundane for himself; that much he had made clear. He couldn't even come talk to me on his own after the party. He'd sent people to summon me to his presence. He was living in the wrong century if he thought this sort of behavior was acceptable. And I was going to tell him just that.
The butler led me through a series of corridors and up a staircase before gesturing that I should enter one of the rooms. "In here, please, Miss Williams."
As if I had a choice. Jake had made it clear I wasn't going to be allowed to leave until I was thoroughly and personally chastised.
Bracing myself and clinging hard to my righteous anger, I stepped through the doorway and into a lavish study. A deep red and blue Oriental rug covered the floor, and the walls were lined with thousands of books. A darkly polished mahogany desk was situated at the back of the room, and behind it sat Jake Cleary.
Despite the rich elegance of his surroundings, Jake commanded my attention. Or perhaps it was because of the lavishness. He belonged in this decadent space.
The gorgeous billionaire, in his natural habitat.
The wryness of the thought belied my fascination with him. Despite my best efforts, I again found myself momentarily stunned by his sharp, masculine cheekbones, strong jaw, bright blue eyes, and that hard body...
He is not hot, I told myself. Well, maybe he is physically, but his personality is a total turn-off.
And that was precisely what I was going to tell him. He hadn't even stood up when I entered the room. Weren't Southern gentlemen supposed to do that? Instead, he sat far back in his chair, considering me. It made my skin crawl.
Or was that a pleasurable shiver?
"Hello, Mallory," he said softly.
Oh, so he was going to be one of those quietly angry, I'm-not-mad-I'm-just-disappointed types. Great. Well, I'd be damned if I let him get off the first shot.
"Mr. Cleary," I coated the formality in as much venom as I could. "I am sorry for what happened earlier, but you do realize that this kind of behavior is not acceptable, don't you? Even though I'm just a servant, I do have rights. You can't keep me captive on your estate for as long as you like."
His lips twisted upward in a small smile. "Can't I?"
Rage burned through my veins at his haughtiness. Annoyingly, the heat gathered between my thighs as he continued to stare at me, fixing me in place with that intense blue gaze and sexy smirk. There was something undeniably seductive about his arrogance, the way he utterly commanded the space around him.
He stood and circled around the desk, slowly advancing toward me. The strange, sharp glint had returned to his eyes, but this time, I recognized it for what it was: hunger. I took an unconscious step backward, swallowing against the sudden dryness in my throat.
I struggled to gather my wits as he prowled toward me, his movements as assured and graceful as a beautiful predator. "No, you can't." The defiant words held less conviction than I would have liked. Struggling for a more normal tone, I insisted, "I won't stay here to be chastised by some entitled rich boy."
There, I'd said it. There was no taking it back now.
To my surprise, Jake chuckled, his sly smile widening to show his perfect white teeth. God, he was even more breathtaking when he smiled like that.
In seconds, he reached me, entering my personal space as though he had every right. The heat between my legs moved deeper into my core, and my inner muscles squeezed in response to his nearness. He smelled incredible: designer cologne and something deeper that was utterly masculine and uniquely Jake.
He bent slightly, dipping his head toward mine until our lips nearly touched.
I should knee him in the balls, a very small voice muttered in the depths of my mind. But that voice was smothered when his hot breath brushed across my lips, and his impossibly blue eyes filled my world. Even though I'd never felt it this strongly, I recognized the sensation that made my insides quiver and my toes curl: lust. I had the hots for Jake, and the temptation of his full lips so close to mine almost made me forget my anger entirely. The same sense of weakness that had overtaken me when he touched me in the ballroom washed over me, and my head dropped back, offering my mouth to him without a thought.
"Well aren't you just full of fire?" His voice was low and soft, his words tickling my lips, teasing me. His mouth descended slowly, gently caressing mine. His tongue traced the seam of my lips, demanding entrance. All my sensitive nerve endings lit up at the confident touch, and I opened for him on a gasp. His tongue delved in, exploring at first, then claiming me with more demanding strokes, subjugating my mouth.
His hard body pressed against mine, forcing me to move. My back bumped against the wall of books behind me, knocking some of them to the floor. Jake's heat and strength enveloped me, his mouth never leaving mine as he continued to devour me. My sex pulsed, and I suddenly ached to be filled. A completely uncharacteristic, wanton moan rolled from my mouth into his as he took my mouth roughly.
No man had ever done this to me. My whole body was on fire for Jake, enflamed by his confident, passionate treatment. His big hand snaked into my shirt, reaching into my bra to cup my breast. I whimpered as his palm brushed across my hard nipple, sending scorching lines of pleasure shooting straight from my breast to my clit.
Suddenly, he caught the hard peak between his thumb and forefinger, pinching hard. I cried out at the hit of pain, but he quickly rolled my flesh deftly between his fingers, soothing the sting. My knees went weak as the brief flash of pain morphed into white-hot pleasure, and my inner walls throbbed.
Jake broke away from the kiss, but he continued to massage my breast. I could only pant and stare up at him, wide-eyed. He'd taken me completely by surprise with his lustful actions, and my body's response shocked me further. He regarded me, a cocky smile on his face, his eyes triumphant.
"Man, am I glad I bumped into you," he said, chuckling.
My cheeks flushed, remembering my earlier embarrassment. "Sorry about that," I said, a bit breathily after our passionate kiss. My anger had melted, utterly forgotten in the torrent of lust that flooded my system. He hadn't brought me here to scold me; he'd brought me here because he was attracted to me. And that attraction was most certainly reciprocated. I couldn't help being flattered, and more than a little turned on.
"Don't be sorry." His lips quirked in amusement. "It's not like it was an accident."
Wait, what?
"You mean..." I began, hesitant to accuse him. "You knocked into me on purpose?"
Jake grinned. "Of course," he said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Cold flashed over my skin as though a bucket of icy water had been dumped over me, effectively dousing the heat he'd awoken within me. I shoved him off as my anger boiled back to the fore, strong and unrelenting.
Well, I shoved at his chest, but he didn't move an inch. When I spoke, my voice was tight. "Why? Why on earth would you do that?"
Because he's a rich, sadistic asshole who gets off on watching the underlings squirm, the more cynical side of me answered.
"Because I wanted you," he said simply, as though that was a perfectly rational explanation for his behavior. Almost as though he thought it was a compliment.
My hands clenched into fists. "So you got me fired just so you could bring me here after your soirée and have sex with me?" My voice was shrill and sharp with incredulity.
Jake frowned and stepped back, finally releasing me. "I didn't mean to get you fired."
"Oh, well that makes it all better," I seethed. "God, do you ever think of anyone but yourself? Some of us have these things called 'jobs,' you know. We kind of need them to earn a living." I sidestepped away from him, anxious to put as much distance between myself and the sexy snake as possible.
Jake's brow furrowed. "Mallory, wait," he began, reaching out for me.
I ripped my arm away from his grasp and eyed him levelly. "I'm leaving now," I announced coldly. "And if you don't open your fancy gate for me, I'll drive my car right through it."
Without waiting for him to answer, I turned on my heel and stormed out of his gorgeous mansion.