CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Rule No. 1: No emotions. No commitment. No acting on feelings, no matter what.
The first rule stunned me. Not because it built a wall between us that left no room for interpretation, but because his back wall lit up like a film screen, the rules written in dark blue lettering where they were being projected from somewhere else in his office. I’d always noticed he had no photos or paintings on his wall - except for the one of him and the pretty blonde - and thought it strange. Now I learned that the wall at his back was actually a large screen that acted as second computer monitor to the one on his desk.
Even more startling than that was the fact that Donovan had taken the time to write up ten Rules of Engagement for how we would work together, ten rules that were eerily similar to the ones sent to me by Dark Realities.
After reading them over, I realized quickly that my job here hinged heavily on both of our abilities to avoid each other, because a man who wasn’t interested wouldn’t have been so personal in the intent of those rules. Rules that left no room for error. Rules that broke my heart.
My eyes met Donovan’s after I finished reading, my brain scrambling to interpret the expression on his face. Feeling awkward now that he’d made his list of demands known, I wanted to clear the air about what happened between us.
“I’m sorry about last night. I think the wine mixed with telling off Clayton may have pushed me into doing something I wouldn’t normally do. I feel embarrassed because I acted unprofessionally.”
His lips twitched, his eyes holding mine in place as he thought over what he would say. Eventually he decided to make his thoughts known, but they were not in line with his so-called Rules.
And if I decided to bend you over my desk one day because I can’t stand not being able to touch you? If I wanted to set you on the surface of it to take my time tasting you? What would you do?
Surprise burst out of me in the form of a coughing fit, my face turning red until I could drag oxygen in my lungs once again. “You can’t say things like that, Donovan. It’s against your rules.”
Which is precisely why I made the rules. I can’t give you anything beyond the physical, Mia. Can’t give you anything that means something. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting to and that’s why I want us both dedicated to these rules. We can’t be together. Not like this. Not in any way that is normal or healthy.
But in other ways, we could. He didn’t need to actually speak or sign the words for me to hear them. I knew on instinct that, although Donovan was shutting the door on any kind of normal relationship, he was opening another kind of door. Unfortunately, I didn’t know what that door would lead to.
“I’ll try not to let you bend me over a desk,” I offered, my voice tight with anger. How was it my fault that he thought of me that way? It wasn’t that the attention was unappreciated - or even craved. But if this attraction was a two way street, why was I the person being blamed?
His eyes narrowed, his palm slapping against the surface of his desk to grab my attention. Scowling back at a man who was scowling at me, I folded my arms over my chest and wondered how I’d gotten myself into this mess.
Why are you so scared all the time? Why don’t you like being touched?
“Why do you keep asking me that?” I blurt out. “Why does it even matter?”
Because you let me touch you.
I don’t know how he did it. Maybe it was the force of his movement or the quickness of the way his hands slid around each other to convey his thoughts, but it wasn’t hard to pick up on the fact that he’d yelled right back at me in response to my question.
We both froze in response to that observation, our gazes locked in battle and desire. If he hopped over the desk right at that moment and pulled the clothes from my body, I wasn’t sure I’d stop him. I couldn’t help myself with him. What he’d shown me last night was that he knew how to push all the right buttons to help me crawl out of my shell. And it was hard not to want somebody like that in my life, especially when everybody else made me want to crawl deeper inside so that I could hide from the world.
I want to know why you let me touch you, he signed, this time slower and more cautious.
“I’d like to know the answer to that myself, Donovan, but openly talking about it might break one of your new rules.”
His expression softened at the admission, regret flashing behind his blue eyes. I wish things were different. But I’m in a place in life where wanting you will only complicate me. I can’t give you normal because I’m not normal. I haven’t been normal since...
He didn’t finish the thought, his hands dropping to the surface of his desk and his eyes darting away. Tracking his gaze, I noticed that he now stared at that lonely framed photograph on his wall, the only personal touch in the entire room. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the woman in the picture meant something to him, and I was inwardly making the connection between what Jackson had told me about Donovan’s last relationship and the photo. However things had ended between him and the woman had done something to him, and I didn’t want to make assumptions, but I was beginning to believe that woman had everything to do with why he didn’t talk.
What could have gone so wrong that it rendered a man silent for the rest of his life? What kind of pain had that woman caused? It was stupid of me to jump to the conclusion that the two issues were related, but it was the only answer that made sense. A mistake would have to be extreme for a man to choose not to speak because of it, so extreme, in fact, that people would react badly if that mistake were to be repeated. With my brain so caught up trying to remember exactly what Jackson had said, I didn’t think to consider the consequences of asking my next question.
“Is she the reason you don’t talk?”
Donovan’s head snapped in my direction, anger rolling behind his eyes. Go back to work, Mia.
“Donovan...”
It’s best if we avoid each other as much as possible. What happened last night can’t happen again. That’s the point of this conversation. From now on we’re employee and employer. That’s it.
The screen behind his head shut off, his eyes moving to stare out his window much like they’d done the day he interviewed me.
I was being dismissed.
Again.
But this time it drove a spike of pain through my heart for all the wrong reasons.
Standing from my seat, I crossed his office and had my hand on the doorknob. A thought stopped me in place, one that I let roll off my tongue even if it did reveal too much about the current state of my life. But I was pissed off and didn’t care. Donovan thought he had a right to pry into the personal details of my life, but as soon as I asked a question in return, I was being booted from his office while he quickly reconstructed all the walls around himself that kept him safely out of reach. If he could have walls, then so could I, and neither of us would be allowed to cross the other’s again.
Turning to Donovan, I didn’t care that he refused to look at me. The only thing I wanted was for him to hear what I had to say.
“I’m sick of rules. I’m sick of people telling me what I can and can’t do. I’m sick of being expected to abide by those rules regardless of whether I enjoy playing these games or not. I won’t take it from you or from that website. Not anymore. So I’m setting my own damn rule, one that you’ll have to live by if you want me to continue working in this office.”
His gaze snapped to mine again, his eyebrows sliding up his head like I’d said something suspicious or unexpected. Not really giving much of a damn about his reaction, I spit out my last words so I could storm from his office and forget he existed.
“Rule Number One: No more jokes. No more comments. No more questions. No more being a complete dick to me when it amuses you. And no more games!”
Opening the door, I slammed it shut, my back leaning against it as I clenched my eyes shut and counted to ten in an effort to calm down. When I opened them again, I wanted to scream to find Jackson staring back at me with a bag of fast food gripped in his hand.
“I told you to stay away from him, Mia.”
I was at the end of my rope, every thread fraying as anger swelled inside me to mix with the heartache, indignation and confusion. “Yeah? Well, how in the hell am I supposed to do that when he’s my boss?”
Jackson flinched in response to my voice, his eyes searching mine because he was used to timid Mia, the Mia they were all so curious about but wouldn’t allow anywhere near their secrets. Screw that Mia. I was now my own Mia. And I wouldn’t let myself be held down by the memories of my domineering father, or the stupid, bullshit rules given to me by Dark Realities or Donovan Stone. And if Jackson didn’t like it, he could take it up with the heartless bastard behind the door that thought he could tell me what to do in both my professional and my personal life. It wasn’t my fault he was attracted to me. It wasn’t my fault he had fantasies of what he wanted to do to me in this office. And it certainly wasn’t my fault he was so screwed up in the head that he didn’t trust himself not to act on that attraction or those fantasies.
They could all fuck off as far as I was concerned. The only thing I needed from any of them was a paycheck.
When Jackson didn’t immediately respond, I laughed once before saying, “So once you’re done figuring out how I’m supposed to work with someone I have to avoid, you let me know. Until then, I’ll be doing what I was hired to do and get back to work cleaning up your mess.” Taking a few steps away from the door, I stopped and turned back to him. “And the next time you want to place bets on me, you might as well let me know so I have the chance to win some of the cash myself!”
His face paled, his eyes wide as he stood frozen in place watching me.
Storming around him, I took a seat at my desk and got back to paperwork and file folders. But within a few minutes, my tablet beeped from the surface of my desk.
Groaning, I wondered what Donovan had to say now and almost chucked the tablet across the office when I read his message. It would have been satisfying to see it shatter into a million teeny tiny pieces.
Technically, you had five rules. Not one. And I’ll be sure to add them to the list.
Setting the tablet down...carefully...I ignored him and focused on the reason I was in this hellhole in the first place.