Chapter 8 8

"Are you freaking insane?!"

Amara's eyes were wide with disbelief as she stared at Xavier, who still refused to meet her gaze. And she knew exactly why.

She was wearing a damn costume-one clearly meant for sex play.

Just thinking about it made her feel like a complete idiot. Embarrassed didn't even begin to cover it, and that feeling made her even more furious.

Of all the stupid pranks her annoying boss could've pulled, this was the one he went with? Seriously? He could've just made her clean the entire mansion or had her fill the pool with a cup of water. Honestly, she'd probably be even more pissed if he'd done one of those things-but at least she wouldn't be this humiliated.

"I'm sorry, okay? I didn't think you'd actually wear it," Xavier muttered under his breath.

Amara shot him a deadly glare and rolled her eyes so hard they could've fallen out of her head. He turned toward her only to frown in response, but she didn't care. He had no right to be annoyed. This was his fault.

"Oh my God, I can't believe how immature you are, Sir Xavier..." she snapped, stomping her foot before dropping dramatically into the chair across from him, ignoring the dirty look he gave her.

"What?" he asked, frowning even deeper.

"I'm your boss, Amara," he reminded her seriously, like that title gave him some kind of immunity from criticism.

"Yeah, I know you're the boss and I'm your personal maid," she retorted, glaring at him. "But what gives you the right to trick me into wearing... this?"

She gestured angrily at the outfit, too mortified to even say what it was aloud.

A few seconds passed before she suddenly snapped her fingers in front of his face, making him flinch.

Amara rolled her eyes again and added sarcastically, "Oh my God, don't tell me you're imagining turning me into some kind of s–sex-"

"Hell no! That's not it, Amara!" Xavier practically yelled, shaking his head so fast he looked panicked.

She squinted at him suspiciously, not buying it. "Oh really? Then what, Sir? You just wanted to see how sexy I look?"

Her voice dripped with sarcasm as she stood up, spun slowly in front of him, and smirked when she caught how quickly he averted his eyes.

Amara couldn't help but smile victoriously. He cleared his throat and tried to act like he was reading a magazine-upside down.

Suppressing a laugh, she strolled over and snatched the magazine from his hands, flipping it right side up without a word.

Then, flashing her most innocent smile, she said sweetly, "This is how you read properly, SIR."

She burst out laughing when he gulped hard, his gaze drifting back to her body.

She wanted to say:

What now? Cat got your tongue?

Or better yet:

How does it feel to be trapped by your own stupid prank?

But as much as she wanted to rub it in, she held her tongue. No matter how irritating he was, he was still her boss, and she was still just the maid.

"I–I think you should go change," Xavier stammered. "Back into your old uniform. Or-uh-just wear something more casual, whatever you want. Just-please-change into something normal."

He still wouldn't look at her. A moment later, she felt his finger graze her skin-hesitant, like even he wasn't sure if he wanted to touch her. But it wasn't just that; it was the way he gently pushed her arm aside, almost cautiously.

"I don't want to. I actually like this uniform better. I look hot in it,"

Amara said with a sassy smile, checking herself out deliberately and lifting her arms-just enough for the short skirt to ride up a little higher.

If Xavier thought she was some easy plaything, he was about to learn otherwise. She was ready to show him she wasn't someone to mess with.

She was willing to bet this wasn't the first time he tried something like this. But she wasn't naïve, and she sure as hell wasn't about to let him get away with it.

She was still Amara Aragon. She may have lost everything else, but she still had her name-and that meant something. You don't get to mess with an Amara like this and walk away unscathed.

She wouldn't allow it. And if that meant playing the seductress every time he tried to toy with her-so be it.

"Fine, you look good in it," Alexander said seriously, "but that costume doesn't suit you, Amara. It's meant for something else."

That annoyed her. Her eyes narrowed.

"Then why did you even make me wear it?" she shot back. "Were you just bored? Needed someone to laugh at?"

Her tone was sharp, her words stinging. But when he looked at her, his expression changed-he sighed deeply, stood up from his chair, and faced her.

"I did it for fun, yes," he admitted, his voice low but honest. "I didn't realize you were this... innocent. I didn't expect you to actually wear the damn thing. And now-I regret it."

He paused, his jaw clenched. "Because I think I've fallen into the very trap I set. You're a beautiful woman, Amara. Sexy as hell. And God help me, I don't know what I'm capable of doing to you right now. So please-just go and change. I'm starting to feel... overheated."

His words left Amara stunned into silence.

So... game over?

She slowly nodded. Her boss was clearly already turned on. She couldn't really blame him. Sure, it was all technically his fault, but she wasn't completely innocent either.

Things were getting dangerously out of hand. She needed to leave-now.

She was a hot maid. And her boss? A ridiculously handsome man she'd secretly crushed on.

"Go change into something decent," Xavier added, his tone softer now. "I'll take you shopping. As an apology."

Amara swallowed hard, caught off guard by the sincere shift in his tone. She couldn't even respond. Instead, flustered, she quickly turned away.

In her rush to leave, her foot caught on one of the legs of the cursed coffee table. Her eyes widened as she realized she was about to faceplant into the floor.

She shut her eyes tight, bracing for impact-

But then she felt strong arms catch her around the waist.

Amara's eyes flew open as Xavier pulled her upright, but her momentum had already thrown them off balance. In the process, he stumbled forward-and his face landed squarely between her-

Cleavage.

She froze, wide-eyed and mortified, unsure whether to scream or shove him away.

Just as she raised her hand to push him off, the office door swung open with a loud bang-and in came Nanay Unday's horrified gasp.

Amara's heart nearly exploded from her chest as panic surged through her. She finally shoved Xavier hard, but the guy looked just as stunned by the interruption and let go of her instantly.

"Ow..." she groaned, her back hitting the floor, and she winced at the pain shooting through her arm where she'd tried to catch herself.

"What on earth is going on here?!" Nanay Unday cried out. "I leave for five minutes and this-"

"Shit-it's not what you think, Nanay Unday!" Xavier blurted, throwing his hands up. "She had a minor accident-I was just trying to help her up. Then I tripped too!"

While he tried to explain, Amara was already pushing herself up, wincing from the pain in her back and right wrist.

"What are you wearing, Amara, my dear?" the older woman asked, still in shock.

Amara fought the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she sat up slowly, biting down on her lip as the pain flared again.

"That was my fault too... I-I was the one who made her wear that," Xavier admitted, owning up to what he did. But Amara barely acknowledged it-her hand was throbbing worse by the second, and the sharp pain in her back was making it hard to focus.

Clenching her eyes shut for a moment, she finally worked up the nerve to grab Xavier's thigh, just to get his attention.

"C-Can we talk about that later? I think I broke my hand... and my back really hurts. Please help me," she said, her voice trembling, almost in tears. She tried to get up again, steadying herself by clutching onto Xavier's leg.

That finally seemed to snap both Xavier and Nanay Unday out of their shock, and they turned to her at the same time.

Amara, gritting her teeth, wanted nothing more than to kick Xavier hard in the gut for being so careless. But instead, he quickly reached for her injured hand, examined it, and said with a completely unhelpful look of panic-

"Shit, your wrist is broken. We might have to amputate."