Billionaire Boss, M.D.(14)

Problem was, she had to oblige him.

He was the one to give her the end-of-service releases, recommendations and payments. As much as she would have loved to not look back, she needed all that to be able to leave and survive until she found a new job.

After dressing in her most funereal outfit, she pulled her unruly hair—which seemed to have more red in its auburn depths to go with her mood—in a severe bun. Forgoing even the little makeup she usually wore, she winced at her reflection.

 Now that she was aware how she looked to others, she could see that everything she felt was emblazoned on her face. Aversion, aggression, anticipation and, dammit, arousal.

She shouldn’t have given in to the urge to seek release. It had done nothing but inflame her more. Her body throbbed like an exposed nerve, every movement triggering an avalanche of responses. Now sexual awareness was stamped all over her.

Hoping the drive to the lab would dampen her condition, she cursed herself, Antonio and the whole world and headed there. It felt like she was about to sever a chunk of herself and leave it behind. But she had to do it.

She’d try to continue her work elsewhere. If she couldn’t, whatever she decided to do then would be her choice, not his. That it would be a choice he’d forced her into would still be better than being forced to do what he wanted now.

Arriving at the lab, she realized from everyone’s unusually zippy behavior that he was there. Probably setting up his boss area for whenever he came to inspect. No doubt he was also expecting her to obey his directive. The rat had gotten to her through her best friend so he’d corner her.

Well, it hadn’t worked. It was 4:00 p.m. already, and when he got the confrontation he wished for after she’d gathered her stuff, she’d make sure it would be their last face-off.

As she headed to her lab, she noticed everyone was looking at her differently, with incredulousness and something else...a new kind of courtesy, perhaps? The only explanation was that he’d taken his joke too far, had told everyone what he’d told her yesterday.

Annoyance with all of them, especially with him, mushroomed as she pushed into her lab...and felt as if her brain had hit a brick wall.

Antonio sat at her desk. His gaze collided with hers at once, as if he’d been waiting for her to walk in.

“Is this how late you’ll be coming in from now on?”

Every nerve in her body fired at the combo of his jaw-dropping beauty and his teasing remonstration.

Before she could consider a comeback, he uncoiled to his formidable height, approached in that indolent predator’s prowl, his lips twisting. “I didn’t expect you to change to partner mode that quickly. But then you never do anything I expect. I like it. Immensely.”

Forcing herself to move as he came to a stop before her, she unhooked her backpack and circumvented him. Without looking back at him, she started emptying her station, every nerve jangling in alarm as he came closer.

“Are you doing what I think you’re doing?” When she didn’t answer him, he harrumphed. “I enjoy your unexpectedness up to a point. That point is when you use it to deprive me of it. This, Dr. Accardi, I won’t sanction.”

Packing her last article, she yanked the zipper closed, then looked up. Though she’d braced herself, she felt gut-punched to behold his gorgeousness up close, now smoldering hotter with disapproving authority. Forcing steadiness into her stance, she pulled an envelope from her backpack’s outer pocket, and thrust it out at him.

It was déjà vu when he glowered at it, but when he raised his eyes, there was no questioning. He knew what that was.

“I’m not accepting your resignation, Dr. Accardi.” His lips crooked into that smile that had her insides liquefying. “Not to mention it would take far more than a piece of paper now to terminate our partnership.”

Grinding her teeth at the throbbing between her legs, she thrust her other hand palm-up at him. This time, he raised a questioning eyebrow, making her want to yank that regal head down and bite that perfect wing of provocation.

“My three hundred dollars, please.”

“Buying back your shares?” At her nod, he laughed, and her legs almost gave out. “You think your money spent a whole night with me and remained the same?”

Images bombarded her, of spending a whole night with him and being changed forever. Even if he hadn’t meant for her to think that, she did. The man was sex personified. She had to face the fact that she’d walk out of here, never to see him again, and would forever pleasure herself to his memory.

Gritting her teeth, she kept her hand outstretched. “My money, please. This is no longer remotely funny.”