Chapter 54

I stared down at the single sheet of paper. "I'm not signing that."

We were standing just inside the door to my hotel room. We'd returned to the hotel just a few minutes earlier, after an amazing day in the city, complete with a sunset dinner overlooking Times Square.

It had been one of the best days of my life, and now, it was turning sour so quickly, it was making my head spin.

I read aloud the first line of the document that Zane had retrieved on the way in. "Severance agreement?" I looked up. "Seriously?"

Zane said, "Is there a problem?"

"Of course, there's a problem. You're firing me."

If I'd expected him to look guilty, I would've been sadly disappointed. He looked as hard and determined as I'd ever seen him.

He said, "Technically, I fired you this morning."

I stared in stunned disbelief. "So, you were serious?"

"You know I was."

"That's not true," I said. "I mean, you also said you were going to fly out, and you didn't do that."

"I know. And that's a problem."

"Why is that a problem?" I asked.

"You don't know?"

I did. And I didn't. I gave a loose shrug and made no reply.

He loomed closer. "It's a problem, because I should've gotten the hell out of here."

"But why?"

His body was rigid and his eyes were hard. "Because I can't fuck you and be your boss at the same time."

I drew back. "What did you just say?"

His gaze softened. "Look, I didn't mean it like that."

"I think you did. And it seems to me, you're assuming an awful lot."

His gaze dipped to my lips. "Am I?"

Something in his look went straight to my core. And yes, in a sense, he was right. After all, I'd known exactly what kind of signals I'd been giving off. But in my fantasies, I didn't have to sign on the dotted line beforehand.

When I made no reply, Zane said, "So, if I asked you to my room, you'd say no."

I lifted my chin. "Yes, actually."

I wasn't even lying. I'd definitely be saying no now, since he was back to being a total prick.

He stepped back, putting more distance between us. It made me feel cold and alone, in spite of the fact that he was still within standing arm's reach. Suddenly, the gulf between us felt insurmountable in every possible way.

He asked, "So what are you suggesting?"

I sighed. "I don't know."

"Think," he said. "You wanna keep your job, pretend there's nothing there?"

I didn't know what to say. When no reasonable response came to mind, I gave yet another hopeless shrug.

In front of me, Zane looked as hard as ever. "You can't have it both ways. You know that, right?"

I looked down at the sheet of paper. What he was offering was actually pretty spectacular. Three year's salary, plus benefits. It was a fabulous deal by any stretch, especially considering that I'd been his employee for only a few months.

And yet, I hated this, and not only because of my job. Mostly, it felt like he was paying me for sex – and then, even worse, paying me to leave afterward.

Talk about insulting.

If I signed on the dotted line, what kind of person would I be?

Again, I glanced at the numbers.

Well, I wouldn't be cheap, that's for sure.

I asked, "So, what'd you do? Have your lawyers draw this up while we were out?"

Was that why he'd spent the day with me? Had he just been killing time while the attorneys worked to cover his ass? If so, it was incredibly disheartening.

But in front of me, Zane said, "No."

Well, that was informative.

I fluttered the sheet of paper. "So, you keep a stack of these lying around?"

"What do you think?"

"Right now?" I gave a humorless laugh. "Trust me. You don't want to know."

He pointed to the sheet. "Look at the date."

I looked down and felt my forehead wrinkle in confusion. The document was dated yesterday. I looked up. "So you were planning to fire me regardless?"

In a gentler tone, he said, "I'm not firing you. I'm terminating the contract."

I had to point out the obvious. "But that's the same thing."

"Not legally."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?" I searched his eyes for some clue of what was really going on. "And I've gotta ask, why'd you hire me in the first place?"

"You want the truth?"

I nodded.

"I hired you, because I was a fucking idiot."

I stared up at him. "Gee, thanks."

"Jane, listen…" He blew out a long unsteady breath. "When I called you in for that interview, I told myself a shit-ton of lies – that I could keep it professional, that I was hiring you because you were honest and could keep a secret, and yeah, because I was short of people I could trust. But…"

With a low curse, he looked away.

"But what?" I asked.

He looked back to meet my gaze. "But I was lying – not to you. To myself. Because you wanna know the real reason I hired you?"

I felt myself nod.

"Because I wanted you near me, even if you hated my guts. Hell, if you hated me, even better."

I sucked in a breath. This wasn't anything like the answer I'd been expecting. And yet, it was so strange.

"But why?" I asked. "I mean, why would you want me near you and want me to hate you? That makes no sense."

He shoved a hand through his hair. "Yeah, tell me about it."

In spite of my confusion, I was stupidly pleased – until I recalled the parade of models and actresses he'd been dating from day-one.

If he'd been so interested in me, he wouldn't have been with any of them, much less all of them.

"I don't get it," I said, "if you were interested in me at all, why were you so awful?"

And why were you screwing other girls?

"I told you why," he said. "It was because I didn't want you to like me."

"But why not?"

"Because I've had to do things – ugly things – and I didn't want you involved. I shouldn't have hired you. It was a mistake, a selfish mistake. But I wanna make it right."

I shook my head. "By firing me?"

"Yes."

"But why?"

He reached for my hand. "Because I don't want you as an employee. I don't want you to say yes to anything, now or later, because you think your job is on the line."

At this, I wasn't sure if I should be touched or insulted. "You think I would?"

"No. But I'm not gonna take that chance."

"Technically, wouldn't it be me taking the chance?"

"Yeah," he said. "And I wouldn't like it."

"Why not?"

"All right, I'll spell it out. I don't want you to be the girl in the office that everyone knows I'm fucking. I don't want people to look at you, like you're trash, sleeping your way to the top. I don't want people to snicker behind your back or gossip when I call you into my office."

I stared up at him. "But you don't care about stuff like that."

His voice softened. "I would with you."

"But why?"

"Because you'd care, and if anyone hurt you – shit, if I hurt you – I wouldn't like it." He looked to the sheet of paper. "So yeah, I'm a selfish bastard. And you wanna know why?"

Almost in a trance, I felt myself nod.

"Because I want you to sign that thing now and get it out of the way, so I can drag you upstairs and do all the things I've been wanting to from the first time I laid eyes on you."

I was nearly breathless now. "What kind of things?"

He moved closer, and lifted my chin with his index finger. He moved very close until our lips were almost touching. In a low, seductive voice, he said, "I'm not gonna say. But I will promise you this…"

"What?"

"I'm not gonna stop 'til your throat's raw from moaning my name." His gaze dipped lower, and he said in almost a whisper, "And I can promise you this, you'll be plenty sore tomorrow."

That shouldn't have thrilled me. But it did. After all, I'd heard the rumors. I said, "You mean because you're, um, well endowed?"

"No, although I'm not gonna deny it. What I mean is, I'm not gonna stop until you're trembling so hard, your bones ache."

Holy hell.

That prick knew exactly what he was doing. Already, I was aching for him. I could feel my body responding. Wanting him. Craving him.

I glanced toward the window of my hotel room. I wasn't on a top floor, but the view was still pretty nice. I had a king size bed and fresh sheets. And in front of me, I had the sexiest guy I'd ever met.

In spite of my earlier protests, I reached for the pen he was holding in his free hand. And then, heaven help me, I signed.