Chapter 9
ALICIA
"Hey, slow down, kitten, what's the rush?" He turns me around to meet his gaze.
Kitten? Is this man bipolar?
He sees the confusion in my eyes and that damn smirk appears on his lips once again.
"I didn't want to call you that in the presence of your boss. Respect and all that jazz."
I nod, not understanding what he means, and so I continue walking, but this man wants to chat while all I want to do is give him the damn price list and stay far away from him. I fast-walk through the corridor and head straight to the lift. With any luck, I'll enter it alone, leaving him to figure out where my office is. As I get to the lift and frantically press the button, I realize with a sinking feeling, it's engaged.
"So. . . did you see your sister?" I almost jump out of my skin as I whip around. He stands right behind me, a perfectly coiffed brow lifted. "You scare easily."
I ignore him and step inside the lift which finally opens and watch in rising alarm as he steps inside as well, The lift slides close. It's just two of us.
Just my luck.
Silence reigns for just two seconds, and then he's asking again. "Did you see your sister?" His question sounds innocent enough. There's no mockery to it, unlike the last time we met.
The lift slides open, and I use this opportunity to jet out of it so fast, I feel proud of myself. I don't stop walking, I only reply. "Yes, she came home that same night."
"That's good."
Anger wells up inside me and I turn around, almost running smack into him. "That's good?" I stare at him as if he just sprouted a second head. "There's nothing good about my sister getting missing and popping up whenever she likes."
His brows lift enquiringly at my outburst. "I presume she's already an adult, ma'am, which in that case she can make her own decisions."
So it's back to ma'am again now, huh? I fleetingly think before the anger fuels me once again. "She just turned eighteen, and-"
"But she's eighteen already. An adult by American standards. That makes her capable of making her own decisions."
I stare into his eyes, noting highlights of silver and brown in them. I will not be distracted by his good looks. "But-"
"Kitten. . . " His voice is low, mesmerizing, and conciliatory as he steps into my personal space.
"There's nothing you can do except advice her to be a better person and walk a straight path." His eyes rove my face, heating up everywhere they look. He tucks a stray hair behind my ear and grazes his hand lightly down my neck before moving back.
Heat suffuses every part of me as something begins wobbling in my abdomen. I open my mouth to say something but no words come out. Being near this man is dangerous, he's practically rendered me speechless. I manage a curt nod and turn round and walk on wobbly feet towards my office.
I get there first and search for the cargo price list on my desk. I wordlessly hand it to him as he walks in, but he situates himself on the chair in front of my desk and gets comfy. Without even asking if it's okay, he lights a stick of cigarette and begins smoking as he studies it. He's staring at that list so damn hard, it's like he's studying it to pass an exam.
I smother a frustrated groan. "It's not that hard to understand. The prices are right in front of you. There's a discount if you send cargo through us twice. Within American soil, it's cheaper, but over the shores, to other countries, it's more expensive."
At last, he looks away from the list and his eyes flick to me. A ghost of a smile appears on his face. "I like to study things." He says in a low voice.
I can see that.
He abandons the list on the table, flicks the ash into a tray, and looks at me. Really looks at me. Not the flattering sweep of his eyes, and not the ravaging look either. This look he's giving me is assessing, and contemplative like he's sizing me up wonderingly.
He cocks his head to the side and continues staring.
Just when I can't take it any longer, he speaks. "I have a proposition for you. One I hope you'll take to." He looks at me piercingly, even more so than before. "Although, I know you'll need time to think about it."
A sinking feeling snakes up my spine and settles there. I've felt this way before. The day mum died. I know his next words won't be good so I brace myself. I don't know when it happens, but I realize at some point, I'm gripping the edges of the table so hard, it's the only thing making me stand straight.
"I would like. . . " He pauses for effect as he pierces me with another intense look. "For all my cargo to come and go through Harry's cargo."
At what point I close my eyes, I cannot tell, but they flutter open as relief washes over me in waves. I feel like the fire brewing inside of me has been doused. Sweat pools on my forehead and my upper lip. I release my fingers from the table and flex them before I wipe away the film of sweat on my forehead. He notices.
"Were you expecting me to say something else?" His brows furrow. "Something not to your liking?"
I let out an awkward laugh, feeling foolish for my initial fear. It was highly unwarranted, I know that now.
I watch curiously as he stubs out the cigarette and stands. He walks towards me but stops a few inches away. We're close now, just a lift of his finger and he could touch any part of me. In a voice laced with silk, he speaks. "I've got another proposition for you." The feeling slams back into me with full force and I flinch. He notices and cocks his head like he's assessing an insect. "Be my woman. . . for the night, or whenever I want you."