Insane proposition (2)

I've made up my mind by the time my workday ends. I can't investigate Rhys Redmond without putting myself at risk, but my limited knowledge offers some clues. Rhys must be under pressure from his family to get married, but the man would rather mail a bride than find love like a normal person. He plans to use me to calm his family down, so why can’t I do the same?

I know of the secret forces Mr. Redmond is affiliated with. They are the very reason I chose to work for him—no one will ever lay a hand on me on his turf. I can be the fake fiancée he wants me to be, and in exchange, I will get his protection. At the end of the arrangement, we will separate amicably, and I can continue working for him. If not, I will ask him to get me to a safer place.

I’m so lost in my fantasy of things that are less likely to happen than a blizzard in summer that I don’t notice my broken window until I’m sitting on the couch.

There’s a rock the size of a golf ball in the middle of the house, probably thrown from a short distance. My first instinct is to grab the gun resting underneath the pillow I don’t use, but the spot is empty.

My heart races. The window is meshed; only a kitten could pass through, but I don’t think felines are capable of wielding guns.

No. Someone sneaked into my house and stole my gun. The broken window is a warning, and I know exactly who it is from. This is why I have to say yes to Rhys’s insane proposition.

_______

I barely slept last night. How could I rest while knowing what is coming for me if I let down my guard? He found me. Again. It doesn’t matter where I run, or how hard I hide traces of myself. Even when I resorted to altering so many details about myself that I can barely tell what is real or false, it didn’t take long for him to be on my tail. He could squash me like an ant any time he wants.

The gun that always gave me a sense of security—albeit somewhat false—is gone. I couldn’t even ask my landlord to change my locks when I haven’t cleared my rent balance yet. On the bright side, I will do that in a few days when I get paid.

The temptation to flee again weighs heavily on my mind, but I snuff it out. I am safest here. Even if he decided to torment me, at least I would be alive; Rhys Redmond wouldn’t take kindly to anyone killing his employees, and he knows that. Besides, as long as he is uncertain of my relationship with my boss, he will keep his claws away in fear of poking the bear. All he can do is send these threats. If I leave, I may be dead within a few hours.

As usual, when I sit at my desk, the last thing I want to think about is my woes. I prepare everything Mr. Raging Asshole needs for his morning meetings and dive into my world of fantasies that would get me fired if I ever got caught.

"I want to show you something," Mr. Bossman says. I’m standing before him in his office, but the look in his eyes makes me doubt whatever he wants me to see is work-related. "Come here," he instructs.

I circle his desk but stand an arm’s length away, making him frown. "Here."

I move even closer and realize he’s asking me to sit on his lap. I clench my thighs. My skirt is about half the length I usually wear, barely reaching an inch below my ass. Not that I wear long skirts to begin with, anyway, but he has never complained about my inappropriate clothes. If anything, he enjoys them more than anyone.

If I sit on his lap in this one, however, my underwear will be exposed—my barely there thong that I bought using his credit card to rile him up. The boss is getting impatient, so I do what he wants.

His thighs are as firm as they look, warm even through his clothes. My body is thrumming with so much energy that I can barely see what he’s showing me on his computer screen. Eventually, he notices my inattentiveness and bites my ear. "Are you even listening, Kira?"

The sound of his voice sends bolts of electricity down my body. I know my thong is soaked, and I can't help wondering if he can feel it. He runs a hand up my thigh. "You’ve got some nerve wearing this tiny skirt to work and sitting on my lap. Are you trying to seduce me?"

My dirty train of thought is cut off by the ding of an elevator. By the time I recognize Mr. Redmond’s footsteps, he is already close to my desk.

I slam my notebook shut and shove it into my drawer, belatedly realizing I just made myself look suspicious. Rhys’s lips twitch, making my heart race even though he can’t possibly have seen what I wrote.

Without a word, he disappears into his office, slamming the door shut. I let out a sigh of relief.

This insanity will get you in trouble one day, I tell myself. That’s not enough to keep me from noticing that the center of my fantasies is wearing a suit of the same deep blue color as the one I just imagined.

I immediately picture myself sitting on his lap.

You have lost your damn mind, woman, I scold myself.

My life may be in danger, and the best I can do is continue making up crazy thoughts about my boss?

Thinking about what happened last night, I decide to talk to him. I smooth down imaginary wrinkles from my skirt before going to his office.