Billionaire Boss, M.D.(16)
“Like what? Like you’re the most fascinating thing I’ve ever seen? How can I, when you are?”
“That’s what you tell yourself about the people you toy with? That they had it coming, being who they are?” She shook her head as his smile faltered. “But that’s not how you’re looking at me. At least, it’s not how you’re making me feel.”
Every trace of levity left his face, avidness replacing it. “How am I making you feel? Tell me.”
“You make me feel as if you’re probing my every last thought.”
His lips quirked, the smile back in his gaze. “Why would I do that when you wallop me over the head with everything that comes to your mind the moment it does?”
“It’s what I’ve been asking myself, too, wondering why you bother. But you probably do it automatically. I think you go around scanning people to their molecular level and archiving your findings for future exploitation.”
His eyes sobered. “So you don’t think I do it for future reference, but for exploitation.”
“Actually, I don’t think it’s only exploitation you’re after, but flat-out mind control. You’re not probing my thoughts, but trying to herd them where you want them to go. I can feel your mental tentacles trying to steer my brain.”
His laugh was louder and longer this time. “Your unflattering opinion of me is devolving into sinister depths.”
“I’m sure you don’t care about anyone’s opinion of you.”
“I care about yours.” The way he’d said that, his baritone caressing her inside and out... “Stop thinking it’s your obligation to fight me on everything.” His voice dipped another octave, making her very marrow vibrate. “Accept my dinner invitation, Dr. Accardi. I promise I won’t eat you. No matter how tempted I am to do so.”
Truth was, it was she who was tempted. To succumb to his persuasion. All she wanted was to say yes, to everything he was asking of her. Come what may.
She kneaded a throbbing temple, as if to stem her fast-dwindling common sense and willpower. “I don’t know what’s going on inside that convoluted mind of yours, Dr. Balducci, and I really don’t want to know. But whatever it is, I know one thing. What you’re doing here? It’s a terrible idea.”
His eyebrows shot up in imperious query. “It is? Why?”
Though she was certain he knew, she’d spell it out. She’d give him whatever would make him leave her be, spare her the tumult of his inexplicable interest.
“First, you’re you and I’m me. Second, you’re my boss, until you accept my resignation. I’m against mixing professional and personal stuff. It always has catastrophic consequences, even when the professional situation is ideal, not as problematic and hostile as ours.”
“I have zero problems with you professionally. And the last thing I am is hostile. I’m the very opposite.”
“So I’m the hostile party. My bad.”
His smile widened. “I like your hostility. A lot.”
“Yeah, you find it hilarious.”
“Tut-tut. I object to your insinuations that I’m having fun at your expense.”
“I’m insinuating nothing. You are having a ball.”
“That I definitely am. You tickle my humor like no one else. I say that without malice or condescension—just the opposite. Like you, I say only what I mean.”
“Really? I doubt that—about as much as I doubt my ability to grow fur in winter.” That earned her another heart-palpitating chuckle that she did her best to ignore. “If you said only what you mean, I don’t think many in your path would remain alive.”
“So you’re saying I’m tactful, even merciful?”
“Tactful? Maybe, but for your own ends only. Merciful? Sure. And I’m a flying manta ray.”
A guffaw exploded from him, seeming to take him by as much surprise as it did her.
His hand pressed his chest as if laughing hurt him. Which it might, since he must be exercising muscles long petrified from lack of use. She had a feeling not much amused him.
His other hand wiped at his eyes. “How does your mind come up with these things? Wait, don’t answer. Mad scientist brain at work. And I thought I was one myself before meeting you. Turns out I’m too unimaginative to be one.” When she groaned at his self-deprecation, his hands rose in a placating gesture. Then he leveled his hypnotic gaze on her, his lips still twitching, as if unable to stop smiling. “So if it’s dubious I’m tactful, and certain I’m not merciful, what do you think I am?”