Continental Beginnings by Ella Dominguez Read Free Book Online Page B

That secretary of yours?” she hisses.
    “She’s not my secretary, she’s my personal assistant,” I grumble, trying to side-step her.
    “What sorts of things does she assist you with?” she asks sarcastically. “You can’t seem to keep your hands off of her every time I see the two of you together. Exactly what kind of work relationship do you have with her? Does she suck cock as good as me?” she flirts, sliding up next to me.
    Pausing in front of her, I clench my jaw, narrow my eyes at her and respond, “That’s none of your fucking business.”
    This over-persistent woman is seriously pissing me off.  With my irritation clearly evident, she becomes contrite.
    “What do I have to do to get your attention, Xander?” she states cloyingly sweet, her hands climbing up my chest and her nails digging into my skin.
    I grab her hands firmly and move inches from her face.
    “Nothing at all, Svetlana. You had my attention, but you decided that my attention wasn’t enough for you, remember?” I growl, reminding her about our not so amicable break up after I found her sucking a now ex-coworker’s dick in the bathroom stall of a club.
    “He didn’t mean anything to me,” she leans in trying to kiss me.
    I drop her hands and step out of her reach.
    “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
    I dealt with this damn near two years ago and I’m not rehashing this bullshit again. I swore then that Svetlana would be the last woman to hurt me. She was a rebound relationship from my short-lived marriage and as if it wasn’t enough that my marriage was a sham, Svetlana had to go and remind me that getting emotionally involved with someone would only lead to heartbreak and unwanted drama. Twice in a row I declared my feelings for a woman only to have my heart shit on. Never again.
    “Goodnight,” I state resolutely, taking the stairs to get away from her.
     
     

Chapter 9
    Still feeling the maddening effects of Svetlana’s visit the next day, I find myself sulking at work and becoming more and more incensed with myself and my feelings for Ms. Darcy. Bella picks up on my indifference and tension and tries to remedy it, but her compassion only further agitates me.
    Why the hell does she have to be so damned thoughtful? It would make life easier if I didn’t have these fucking feelings for her and she wasn’t so fucking perfect. Surely she’s not perfect. There must be something she’s lacking.
    I suddenly feel the need to call her into my office to reiterate my rules.
    “Ms. Darcy, I want you in my office in 30 seconds,” I bark over the intercom.
    She comes in quickly, her eyebrows furrowed as if concerned for me. Fuck that. I don’t need her concern.
    “When was the last time you read my expectations of you?” I ask.
    Her eyes widen and her mouth parts in surprise. 
    “Did I do something wrong?” she whispers hesitantly.
    “Did I say that?”
    “Well… no, Sir. Am I not meeting your expectations?”
    No, she’s not; she’s exceeding them. “Just answer the question, Ms. Darcy.”
    She looks down at the floor momentarily, but then looks me in the eyes, her eyebrows going up. “I honestly can’t remember when I last read them,” she says lightheartedly as she shrugs her shoulders.
    “Are you not taking me seriously?” I ask harshly as I stand and slam my hand onto my desk loudly.
    “Of course, I am,” she says, startled.
    “Then why haven’t you re-read them? You should never become complacent in your job duties and one should always familiarize them self with the rules and regulations of any establishment by reading and rereading them so that…”
    “I understand that,” she cuts in.
    “Then why haven’t you reread them recently?” I snap.
    “Because they’re committed to memory, Mr. Pettifor,” she answers back calmly, her eyes moving over my body as if trying to figure me out.
    I huff in disbelief.
    “Would you like me to prove it?” she asks defensively.
    Moving directly in