Billionaire Bad Boys of Romance 1(140)
Natasha’s sharp inhale cut the air. She wished she had something to lean back against since she lost all feeling in her legs. “I am not arguing with you. I am merely pointing out that the use of a semicolon is perfectly within bounds.”
“I do not agree.”
What the hell do you want me to do about it?
Mr. Collins was in a snit. She would handle him as she would an unreasonable despot with too much power. Placation. “Would you like me to send out a revised e-mail?”
“No, I would not.” Mr. Collins came around his desk and stepped forward until he was perilously close to invading her personal space. “What I wanted was for you to have sent it out correctly the first time.”
Natasha met his stare. It condemned. Her mouth ran away from her. “It was correct, Sir.”
Mr. Collins narrowed his eyes. He took another step. “Do not take that impudent tone with me, Miss Reynolds.”
“I am not being impudent—”
“Do not argue with me, Miss Reynolds.”
Natasha held up the paper. “There is nothing wrong with this. No one will believe it to be a mistake.”
Mr. Collins ripped the sheet from her hands. “You are on dangerous ground with me.”
Natasha imagined the cardboard box and Mr. Yum-Yum’s pitiful meows. She thought of how high up she had climbed from the girl she’d been when working for Melinda. Natasha remembered the pride she felt in knowing she had pushed through her mediocrity—a mediocrity she never knew existed until working for Mr. Collins. Natasha recalled the generous clothing allowance he had procured for her so her new raise wouldn’t be eaten up by tailored suits and delicious shoes.
I’m going to be fine.
“I’m on dangerous ground? Well, so are you, Mr. Collins.”
“Is that so?” A craven smile crooked his mouth. “Then this isn’t going to matter one way or another, is it?”
The tiny hairs on Natasha’s neck rose. She watched him circle around her to leave the office. Satisfied Mr. Collins couldn’t hear or see her, Natasha sagged and drew in greedy gulps of air.
I’m going to be fine. Sure I am. I’m going to be fine. . .living in my cardboard box! What the hell was I thinking? I should’ve just apologized and—wait! What did he mean by that? What’s not going to matter one way or another?
The door closed behind her. Natasha whirled around. “Mr. Collins?”
He undid his tie as he walked back to her. His steps, always graceful and unhurried, now took on an aggressive gait. “Yes, Natasha?”
“I don’t understand.”
“I know you don’t. You never do until I show you the way.” Mr. Collins slipped off his suit jacket and tossed it onto a nearby chair.
She closed her eyes and inhaled. Beginning again, Natasha summoned a professional calm she didn’t readily feel. “What would you like me to do?”
“Take off your clothes, Natasha”
“Excuse me?” This time Natasha stumbled back until she hit his desk.
“You heard me. I want your clothes off but leave on your underwear. Then I want you to turn around so I can tie you up.”
“You’ve lost your mind. It’s the contract for Blanc Industries, isn’t it? Mr. Collins, I know you’ve worked overnight several times this week—”
“Which has nothing to do with now.” Mr. Collins crossed his arms. “You asked what I would like you to do. I’ve answered. Now do it.”
Natasha shook her head. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“Why now?” She sidled further down the desk. His penetrating gaze speared her in place. “I mean. . .what brought this on?”
“You.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you.” Mr. Collins neatly trapped Natasha by placing a hand on either side of her. “You made the decision to submit to me shortly after you first came here.”
“And?”
“You admit it.” Mr. Collins smiled and observed the affect he had on her. Something akin to pride warmed his tone when Natasha relaxed a tiny bit into him. “You don’t even try to deny it. Why is that?”
“Because it’s true.”
“And being honest means everything to you, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Then let me be honest with you, Natasha.” Mr. Collins tipped her chin up. He observed her flaming cheeks with obvious pleasure. “I want to finish what you started. You’ve submitted to me as part of your position. Now I want you to submit to me completely. I have your mind. I want your body too.”
“What about my heart?” Natasha could’ve kicked herself for letting that question out the bag.