“As I was saying, we abide by rules in this house. Is that understood?”

My breath drew in as he paused right in front of me. I couldn’t look up — simply couldn’t. I couldn’t look into those eyes, because I knew if I did, I’d be melting for him all over again.

“Is that understood,” he murmured, this time directly to me.

I nodded, still not looking up at him. “Absolutely, sir.”

I could almost feel him smile slightly before he moved on past me, and the breath I’d been holding inside came rushing out when he did.

“I do apologize if I seem overly formal but this is, after all, a job interview is it not?” His voice was crisp, resonating, and staunchly accented in a sharp English enunciation born of high education, which caressed it with a gilded edge of wealth and prestige. I looked up then, thankful that his eyes were moving over all of us instead of being leveled at me. He raised an eyebrow, with the smallest glimmer of a smile in the corner of his eyes, before he finally did turn and look directly at me.

I felt myself flush under his unblinking gaze, feeling the charge of his presence reach out and touch me through the air between us. I swallowed again and shifted slightly in the heels I wasn’t used to wearing.

“Formal is the way I was raised, and it is a state in which I have lived my life, and the way in which I intend to further raise my own children.” He strode to a side table against one wainscoted wood wall and pulled the stopper off a crystal bottle with a small pop. The amber liquid spilled into a tumbler, the smell of smoky scotch hitting me from across the room. He swirled the glass as he turned, bringing it to his lips. His eyes never left mine, fixed on me, unmoving, as he brought the glass to his lips.

“So, as I was saying.” His eyes drew me in, his voice soft like velvet. I felt myself unconsciously leaning forward, waiting with bated breath on his words. I wanted to think it was my own silly imagination thinking he was talking directly to me, but he actually was — ignoring the rest of the applicants, looking right at me.

“Yes, sir?” I found myself saying, as if we really were the only two people in the room.

“Rules. We hold them in high regard in this house, and I would expect anyone who desires to work and live under this house to keep them in the same esteem.” His smile faded as he took another sip of his drink, languidly twirling the rich liquid around the inside of his glass as his eyes moved on to the rest of the girls in the room.

My head swam in the dim light. The rich smell of old books and the steel gaze of my potential employer sitting across from me was a potent combination. I’d never in my life felt an ounce of the nervous, electrically charged excitement and titillation I felt in this room, alone with him. His eyes moved back to me, and that hint of a smug grin returned to his lips.

He was toying with me, and we both knew it. He knew exactly who I was — the silly little girl with a bit too much champagne in her who’d let him pull her into the women’s room. The girl who’d let him shred the panties from between her legs, and run his fingers over her dripping wet, eager pussy. That’s who he saw me as. And the fact that that girl from that night was now standing in his study looking for job watching his children was probably downright amusing to him.

His eyes seemed to drink in my hesitation, and he smiled thinly at me. Dammit, I thought to myself, steeling my nerves. This man was not going to best me. It was clear I wasn’t getting this job, but that didn’t mean I had to stand there cowering under his gaze. Heck, all the more reason not to. He’d taken my body that night — he would not take my dignity on this one.

I stood up straight, and took a deep breath. “I agree completely, sir,” I uttered out loud — again, addressing him as if we were alone in the room. “Without rules, without discipline, and without a firm hand to wield them both, there can really only be chaos and disorder.” I smirked inside, keeping my face a mask of professionalism.

He raised a single eyebrow at me, almost in amusement, as he slowly nodded.

“And of course,” I added. “Disorder has no place in any house.”

Yeah, nailed that. I mentally patted myself on the back. The way he allowed himself to smile slightly only verified it.

“Excellent, Ms. Wilder.”

I froze.

He obviously had our names for the interview, but it was that cocky look in his eye that gave it away. That smug look that said he’d simply been biding his time to let me know he put a name to my face. That the girl from the other weekend who’d clawed at his back and muffled her cries of pleasure in his neck, the girl who’d moaned hungrily as she’d willingly sunk to her knees in a bathroom stall to swallow his cock, was now known to him by name.

The air was still in the room as we locked eyes, that fire behind his gray gaze burning fiercely as he took another sip of scotch. Finally, he looked away, and his mouth opened.

“The rest of you may leave. Thank you for your interest in the position.”

There were a few sighs, and more than a few curious and angered looks my way as the other girls gathered coats and purses and slowly filtered out of the room. The door shut with a heavy thud behind the last of them, and I shivered.

“Isabella Wilder,” he mused, letting my name roll over his tongue.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Sir, I—”

“Doctor Rice had nothing but praise for you. He says you’re ambitious, intelligent, driven, and responsible, which of course is why you are currently here in my home.” He tilted his head and frowned slightly. “I’m assuming Dr. Rice isn’t aware of your more, shall we say, reckless nocturnal activities?”

My face went hot with a blush and I dropped my eyes to the floor, wishing I could just disappear into it. “That’s not me,” I said quietly. “Sir,” I added quickly.

“I’m curious what brings a girl such as yourself to a place like that to do that,” he said evenly.

“I could ask the same about a man like you.”

My heart jumped into my throat and my mouth snapped shut as soon as I said the words, but they were already out there. I glanced up, my eyes wide. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to say—”

“How old are you, Ms. Wilder?”

I swallowed. “Twenty.”

He nodded, stroking his chin. “And how often might a girl such as yourself be found in the ladies’ rooms of nightclubs with a man she’s just met?”

I shook my head quickly, my cheeks burning hot. “Never, sir!” I said, my hands twisting together. “That was my first time.”

I froze, shivering slightly before I opened my mouth again. “The first time, I mean, doing that.”

He knew who I was. He knew what I’d let him do to me in that bathroom.

He did not need to know that he’d taken my virginity that night.

His jaw tightened. “Ms. Wilder, I’ll be blunt.” His voice, deep and richly smooth, resonated through me. “While your intelligence and your obvious personal drive are both impressive, and indeed, one of the primary reasons you appeal to me for this position, I’ll refer back to my first point.”

He leaned against his thick wooden desk, hands steepled, eyes dark.

“There are rules in this house. And my children are my pride and joy, Ms. Wilder,” he said stiffly. “They are smart, witty and sharp, obedient, and delightful. And while I could continue to heap a father’s praise on my children ad nauseam, I will also add that they are indeed a normal six and four year-old, with all that comes along with that. The job obviously entails both looking after them as well as a fair amount of travel over the course of the next month or so of your employment.”

He leveled his eyes at me. “Are you up for the task, Ms. Wilder?”

That steely gaze, that voice, that hint of flirtation in his words; it wasn’t a question, it was a demand.

But was he actually still offering me the job? After what— well, after what we’d done?

“I am, sir.”

As soon as I uttered the words, I wished I’d asked for more time to consider. His reaction though, was immediate.

“Excellent.” He nodded crisply as he rose from his chair and approached me with a confident stride. I found myself shivering under that gaze as he approached, quickly looking down and smoothing my skirt.

“The position is yours then, Ms. Wilder,” he purred.

I froze before slowly daring to raise my eyes to him again. “Sir?” I looked at him quizzically, not fully understanding what had just transpired. “I—”

“There will be rules, Ms. Wilder.” His voice darkened, his eyes glinting at me. “A young lady such as yourself under my employ will be expected to conduct herself in the manner befitting of the position.”

I nodded.

“A young lady such as yourself under my employ will be expected to behave,” he growled, and I suddenly felt myself captivated by that gaze, my whole body tingling under it.

“And if you do not behave…” His eyes darkened even further as the hint of a smile turned the corners of his mouth.

“If you do not behave, there will be consequences.”

I found myself nodding before I could even think about it. “Yes, sir.”

“Would you care to think about it? I believe in well informed and deliberate execution when it comes to decisions such as these Ms. Wilder.” His eyes glinted as he confidently held my gaze. “So, when you answer, I’d like it to be a final answer. I’d rather not waste your time and mine with further deliberation on a decision I’ve already made.”

I felt my blush creep up from under the collar of my blouse, spreading across my neck and cheeks.

“So, I will say once more, the position — should you accept — is yours, Ms. Wilder. Provided you can behave.”

The shiver moved through my body, teasing over my skin, warming me in places I knew it shouldn’t, considering the circumstances. It moved lower, teasing its way between my legs as the memory of that night came rushing back.

The night he took me. The night he demanded pleasure from my body.

The night he claimed me as his own.

And I knew I should walk away. I knew — however lucrative and important for making connections — a job like this with that sort of history looming there was nothing I needed. A man like this was nothing I needed.

…Even if he was something I wanted.

Even if I couldn’t for the life of me stop thinking about the things he’d done to me, and the way he’d made me feel.

The way he’d made me come.

All of those were very valid reasons for not taking the job, and I knew it.

But then, my mouth opened, and the words came out before I could stop them.

“I accept then, sir,” I said, looking into his gray eyes.

He smiled darkly and put his hand out. Slowly, I placed my hand in his and immediately felt the electricity, the warmth, the strength, and the power in his large hand as it enveloped my own much smaller one. It was firm, powerful, and I felt a shiver run up my spine.

“Excellent, Ms. Wilder.” He smiled down at me. “We’ll be leaving next week for Paris, but I expect you should come by before then to meet the children you’ll be caring for.”

I moved in a blurred daze as his hand left mine and he escorted me from the room. We left his study and walked towards the marble foyer of the house. He opened the heavy, oak front door to the sounds of a still, winter evening in Boston.

“My driver is bringing the car around now to take you home.”

I nodded as I turned. “Thank you, sir, for—”

“I’ll expect you tomorrow,” he said brusquely as a black town car pulled up the driveway. I began to turn again when his voice stopped me.

“Ms. Wilder.”

I turned again, and instantly, my body melted. Because there on his face, was the exact same look he’d had that night. It was the look when he’d told me — no, demanded — that I follow him.

It was the look he’d had right before he’d made me whimper for him.

Before he’d made me soaking wet for him.

Before he’d made me come as he claimed my innocence.

“Remember,” he growled. “We have rules in this house.”

I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

I gasped as he moved closer, towering over me, making my pulse throb in my veins.

“Rules, Ms. Wilder. And good girls follow those rules.” His eyes glinted. “And bad girls get punished.”

I felt it in my whole body — the aching, throbbing pull of want for him. The almost drug-like way my body instantly craved his touch again. The way I wanted to drop to my knees right there on his door step and worship his cock like I had that night.

And the look on his face said he knew exactly what I was thinking as he moved to open the door to the car for me.

“Until tomorrow, Ms. Wilder.”

* * *

In the car ride home, I sat quietly, my heart racing in the backseat as the black Lincoln sped across the bridge back to Cambridge.

Colin Kensington.

The man from that night.

The man who made my cry out and claw at his shoulders as he slipped his thick cock inside of me.

Was now my employer.

This was going to be a very interesting winter break.