Chapter 6 6

"His date? Why?" I muttered, throwing my pen onto the desk. My mind was already replaying tonight's headlines... Milan's Ice King seen with mystery woman. By tomorrow, strangers on the internet would be debating whether I was his secretary, his mistress, or something far dirtier.

Even if I didn't want to admit, that man made me feel things I shouldn't say and it drove me crazy.

I tried to focus on my work, ignoring the fact that later, I'd be standing beside Ryan Ricci, the man who drove me insane in more ways than one.

The Collins meeting was first on our agenda. I grabbed my bag and headed to his office. I knocked, and his deep voice rumbled through the door. Come in.

God help me, my body reacted instantly remembering exactly what that voice had sounded like last night... low, dark, and pressed against my ear as his hands had been anywhere but innocent.

I squeezed my thighs together then straightened my skirt and stepped inside. "Sir, it's time."

He didn't look up. Just kept writing, the silver watch at his wrist catching the light. "Mm."

I lingered. "Sir..."

His pen froze. "Do I look deaf to you?" His eyes finally met mine - steel gray, sharp enough to slice through me. "Or do you just like pushing your luck?"

The way he said it wasn't angry so much as... dangerous.

"I... I'm sorry," I stammered, heat crawling up my neck.

Well whatever lustful thoughts I had about him flew out the window.

He let me stand there for what felt like forever before finally shutting the folder with a snap. Briefcase in hand, he moved past me. I reached to take it, but his palm lifted in a silent don't.

I didn't bother bringing my car today since I always rode with him to meetings. So imagine my face when he climbed into his black car, gave a single word to his driver, and left me standing there like a fool.

It took me two whole seconds to process. Then, like ice water down my back, it hit me.

He left me.

For a moment, I just stood there, dumbstruck, staring at the empty space where his car had been.

Heat crawled through my face and i immediately controlled the tears threatening fall.

And we were going to be late.

Frantically, I grabbed my phone and booked a taxi or tried to. None available. Just my luck.

By the time I finally got one, traffic swallowed us whole. Fifteen agonizing minutes later, I was practically sprinting in heels toward The Collins building. Security slowed me down, but my ID got me through.

The receptionist pointed me toward the meeting room, and I darted into the elevator, silently begging it to move faster.

When I finally stepped into the room, every head turned. I refused to let my nerves show, a good secretary knows how to fake confidence.

"Miss Norman," Ryan said smoothly, eyes unreadable, "any excuse for joining us late?"

Oh, the audacity of this man.

"No, Sir. Let's just continue."

I slid into the seat beside him, ignoring the judgmental glances from the other secretaries.

The meeting dragged on until Ryan rejected their offer entirely, telling them to return when they had "something worth his time."

When we left, I placed his briefcase in the car. "I'll head back to the office," I said.

"What makes you think my secretary wouldn't attend a business lunch?" His eyebrow arched, mocking. "Don't you know your job, or should I replace you?"

Biting back my irritation and the urge to kick those sacks between his legs, I agreed to come along.

Inside the car, I told him I'd need a taxi.

"Why's that?"

Like you didn't just ditch me, I thought bitterly.

"Since in the car why don't you just keep quiet and act right," he ordered, voice leaving no room for argument.

The lunch meeting with Mr. Kim was a blur Ryan speaking fluent Korean while I sat there, utterly lost. Mr. Kim, at least, tried his limited English, complimenting me as "a beautiful secretary." Ryan's reply, in Korean, remained a mystery.

After farewells, we drove off but the route wasn't toward the office.

"Sir, where are we going?"

"I have an event tonight. I need a suit... and you need a dress." His gaze slid to me, lingering.

The boutique was pure luxury. I swore to keep Cara away from this place or we'd lose every euro we had. Ryan made quick work of his selections black suit, crisp white shirt, silk tie and then turned to me.

"I have a dress at home," I insisted.

"This isn't a gift," he said coolly. "You're representing the company. You'll look the part. Go try them on."

Four dresses.

The first dress was black and got a cool, "We're not going to a funeral."

The second was beige still got a witty remark "You look like you're running a knitting club."

The third was a beautiful white off shoulder and that agonizing voice came again ,"If I wanted a runaway bride, I'd order one."

By the fourth, I was ready to strangle him. But the moment I slipped into the red gown, I knew. It clung to me like sin, slit high enough to make breathing dangerous, neckline just shy of scandal.

When I stepped out, the room shifted.

Ryan's eyes locked on me, and his pen straight posture faltered just slightly like I'd caught him off guard. He didn't speak at first, just let his gaze trail slowly from my bare shoulders down the curve of my hips.

I wouldn't lie, whenever he gazed at me like that, it felt like the whole world just stopped spinning at the moment.

When his eyes finally met mine again, they weren't the eyes of a boss.

They were the eyes of a man imagining exactly how that dress would look crumpled on his bedroom floor, and I wouldn't mind having him in me for hours.