Eden

“No.”

I kept my gaze on Michael Murphy after I had uttered the word, though it took everything inside of me not to look away.

If his expression was anything to go by, Michael was angry, something that wasn’t at all uncommon for him.

He was also questioning my sanity.

A question we shared.

At least in my professional life, I thought of myself as prudent, reasonable, but I seemed to lose sight of all those qualities in Michael’s presence. Something about him, the arrogant tilt of his head, the way he demanded obedience, absolute respect, like it was something he was owed, pissed me off, made me cast prudence aside and antagonize him.

It was risky, defying Michael like that. Foolish, too, considering he was technically my employer.

And a mobster.

“What did you say?” he asked.

I almost blinked, his bland, disinterested tone nearly throwing me off my stride. I instantly recognized it for the warning sign it was, the clue that Michael was close to his breaking point.

Funny that.

Michael wasn’t above yelling, at least at me, something I had no problem returning in kind. But when that tone got thrown into the mix, the casual, smooth whisper that was more appropriate for seduction than a business meeting, I knew I was on dangerous ground.

It was definitely time for me to back away, but stubbornness—and the thrill of pushing Michael just a bit farther—wouldn’t let me.

I kept my eyes centered on his, ignored the little thud my heart gave—and the reason my heart gave it—and spoke.

“I said no.”

The withering glare he gave me should have sent me running away screaming, would have if he were someone else. But he was Michael, and I was unwilling to give even an inch, despite how common sense told me I should.

Because as withering as his expression was, there was also expectation in it, his firm belief that I would bend to his will. I hated that, and even more, refused to give in to it.

Childish? Yes.

Stupid? Yes.

Unavoidable? God, yes.

So instead of apologizing, walking that no back, or at least softening my position, I stayed exactly where I was, back ramrod straight, chubby legs crossed at the ankles, my uniform’s skirt lying primly over my knees, my eyes lasered on his, the night-sky blue now stormy.

“Do you want to reconsider your answer?” he asked, even blander now, almost polite.

A shudder rocked through me, involuntary and uncontrollable.

Michael was not polite, ever, and when I considered the storm in his eyes and the blandness of his voice, I marveled that he was managing to hold his temper at all.

Still, as ill-conceived as this may be, I had a point to prove.

“No, I don’t want to reconsider. I heard your request, thought about it, and made my decision. I’m not going to do it,” I said.

I tried to keep my voice as bland as Michael’s, though I doubted I could pull off the look. His dark hair was swept back, his hand-sewn shirt open at the neck, his overall appearance more that of a bored aristocrat than revealing what he actually was. Yeah, there was no way I, in my hotel-issued blazer and loafers could match his superior, disinterested tone. But that didn’t mean I wouldn’t make the effort.

Effort Michael noticed.

His eyes got stormier, and I could see the edges of his control beginning to fray.

“I believe we have a misunderstanding, Eden,” he said, speaking slowly, sounding almost patient, not that I’d ever believe Michael Murphy could be patient.

“Which is?” I asked, portraying an ignorance that he didn’t buy, one that probably only served to piss him off more.

That thought made me want to smile, made my heart beat a little harder. Awoke other places too, places that I had no business thinking about here in the presence of a man I was pretty sure I hated.

However, I ignored all those thoughts, focused on Michael.

“Which is,” he said, drawing out the words, his eyes narrowing into little slits as he spoke, “you think you have a choice in the matter. This is my hotel. You work for me, Eden. So you’ll do as I say.”

His voice had taken on an edge now, one that again made me shiver, again for all the wrong reasons. I should have been furious, was furious, actually. But, as shameful as it was to admit, I was enjoying this, knew I would replay every look, every moment, every word back later.

I ignored that though, and focused on what was happening now. Michael was being ridiculous, and I refused to back down.

“Yes, I am your employee. But I was also given final say over personnel in this hotel. I’m not going to dismiss those security guards,” I said.

I looked down, needing a break from the intensity of his gaze, the intensity of my reaction to it, and braced myself for Michael’s response.

When he stayed silent, I glanced up at him, curious. About the fact that he hadn’t responded yet, about the fact that we were having this conversation at all.

Michael had never seemed that interested in personnel, typically leaving the hiring and firing, and most of the other operations of the hotel, to me and Gerald Collins, the hotel’s general manager. That he was pressing this particular decision was of note, something I’d lost sight of while I’d been distracted with Michael’s and my little game.

It was time to refocus on business.

“Maybe if you could explain—”

“Explain myself to you, Eden?” he said. That blandness was gone, and his voice was now a low hiss, one that made it impossible to miss how angry he was, not that I had.

I froze for a moment, his apparent scorn taking me aback and sapping some of the energy and excitement of this conversation. I should be used to this by now, had known it was coming, but every time Michael looked at me like that, used that tone that confirmed he thought very little of me, it got to me.

I knew better, had known where this was headed, but I’d pushed, and again was paying for it. I liked to think of these little standoffs as games, and often, they were just that. But other times… Michael’s words, his tone, shouldn’t have the power to hurt me, should have just rolled off. At this moment though, they stung. I ignored that bite of hurt, tried to keep my mind focused on the matters at hand.

“Very well, Michael,” I said, calling on my years of customer service experience to keep all emotion out of my voice. “There’s no need to explain if you don’t want to, but I’m not comfortable dismissing such long-standing employees without at least some idea of what they’ve done wrong.”

And everything else aside, that was true. Michael wanted to take away those guards’ livelihoods, something I wouldn’t let happen, not without a good reason.

One look at Michael, and I could see that both my rock-solid reasoning and my attempt to placate him had fallen flat.

“Get out,” he said.

I stood and headed toward the office door, and met Sean Murphy, one of Michael’s brothers and one of my four bosses, at the door.

I looked at him, saw the smile in his green eyes. “So somebody’s being an ass today, I take it?” he asked.

I smiled, but didn’t speak, knowing confirmation wasn’t necessary, which drew a laugh from Sean. “That face says it all, Eden,” he said.

“Morning, Sean,” I said by way of answer.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he replied, adding a little wink.

“Still an outrageous flirt, I see,” I said.

“Is it working?” he asked.

“Nope,” I replied with a smile.

Sean put his hand on his heart, shook his head. “It’s barely after breakfast, and I’ve already been shattered. Looks like I’m in for a long day.”

“You’ll survive,” I said, smiling even brighter now, something that was easy to do with Sean, who couldn’t have been more different than Michael in looks and temperament.

“You were leaving, weren’t you, Eden?” Michael said.

My smile dropped, and it took all the self-control I had not to flip him off. From the twinkle in Sean’s eye, I could see he noticed.

“I’ll see you, Sean,” I said tightly, and left.

As I got farther away from the office, my heart started to slow, the comedown from the adrenaline rush leaving me shaky.

For almost two years now, Michael Murphy never failed to have that effect on me.

One minute we’d be going toe to toe, the next, he’d drop some obnoxious comment or dismiss me out of hand. He made me so angry, as mad as anyone ever had, but no matter what, whenever I left his presence, I felt alive in a way I never did anywhere else.

Yet, I still had no idea why.

It wasn’t looks.

Michael was unequivocally, undeniably, impossibly handsome, the most handsome of the Murphys to my eyes. He’d won the genetic lottery, standing at a towering six five, all of him pure muscle. His features were perfection, so perfect, in fact, that he sometimes looked surreal.

He was also rude, domineering, arrogant, and, quite frankly, an asshole.

I hated assholes.

And yet…

I didn’t hate Michael.

Or didn’t only hate him.

He was the single most infuriating person I’d ever met, had the ability to drive me into a rage with something as simple as a tilt of his head.

I also wanted him with an intensity that took my breath away, one that had led to far too many sleepless nights spent craving someone I could never have and shouldn’t even want.

A desire that only grew stronger the more I tried to resist it.

I adjusted my blazer as I walked down the hall leading away from the executive office suite, anxious to do something with that excess energy that being around Michael always left me with.

I’d never freely confess it, but this thing with him was becoming a distraction, one made all the worse because it was so one-sided. In a perverse way, it might have given me a small sense of pride if I could say that Michael took unique pleasure in annoying me, but I didn’t even have that to hold onto.

Sure, he was a jerk to me, but he was a jerk to everyone, even his brothers. There was nothing special in that. Worse, he was responsible for hurting one of the people I cared about most in the world. All that should have been enough, more than, to kill the silly and unreciprocated attraction to him, especially when I considered his family’s reputation, the rumors about who they were and what they did. But the disconnect between my brain and my body when it came to Michael Murphy was strong, and so far, my body was winning, that attraction to him as potent as any I’d ever felt.

I adjusted my jacket once more and then plastered a smile on my face as I walked into the front lobby.

I had a job to do, and Michael fucking Murphy wouldn’t stop me.