“Fired?” I gasped.
“Not really,” Greg said, scowling. “But the scandal will render him persona non grata. In good conscience he’ll end up turning down the partnership they offered him. He’ll resign in disgrace just like he did at Wimpress & Wimpress after ‘Trash at the Bash’ went viral.”
He looked me over and whistled appreciatively.
“I underestimated you, Lizby. You came up with something better than what you did at James’s wedding and I congratulate you. Although, revenge against James is hardly worth going to jail for in my opinion. But I guess you’re so angry you don’t give a fuck. When I told you about Patricia taking your position you thought you’d get back at James and Flintfire by stealing our clients’ money. Motive and opportunity. Clever little bitch, aren’t you?”
My alarm hit the ceiling. “Why do I have to be the guilty one?” I said, voice rising in panic.
“Because you’re the poor slut who needs it the most. What would I do with a measly five hundred grand?”#p#分页标题#e#
“Half a million pounds is measly to you?”
He gave me a smug, satisfied look. “My wife is the heiress to a fortune bigger than anything a working-class secretary could ever dream of.”
“Wow. It’s my turn to congratulate you,” I said sarcastically. “Why do you even bother to work?”
“Because my father-in-law hasn’t had the grace to drop dead yet, of course.”
Disgusted, I thought about the happy-looking woman in the office picture and felt sorry for her. “Well I didn’t steal the money, so James can investigate all he wants. Now get out of my room or—”
“Or, if you let me fuck you I’ll make sure they’re not too hard on you.”
Ugh. Greg looked as though he wanted to suck on me like he’d sucked on Patricia. I opened the door and gave him the finger, using it to signpost the pathway to hell. When he reached me he leaned in, getting so close I could see the freckles on his chest and the slight sag of his skin. I didn’t move even though his smell made me nauseous. If he touched me I was going to twist his dick so hard the only thing he got satisfaction out of tonight was an ice pack.
I smiled, seeing the intention in his eyes and getting my hand into position. James’s thin voice pulled me back.
“Am I interrupting?”
Chapter Twenty
Casa Escondida
James came towards us as if the devil were on his tail. In one glance he took in Greg’s naked torso, my shoeless dishevelment and the way my hand was frozen halfway to Greg’s dick.
Greg winked at James. “Not interrupting, James, we’ve just finished. I’m heading back to my room for some extra fun.”
He sauntered down the corridor as if he’d just had the best lay of his life.
James looked me up and down, his accusing face immediately fanning my anger.
“What was Greg doing in your bedroom?”
I matched his tone. “He was enjoying lawyer-secretary relations, what else?”
His answer was to walk into my room, forcing me to follow. He slid the bolt shut and crossed his arms. No way! I was not going to listen to a lecture about professionalism. And besides, when did my room become a free-for-all? I made a move to show him the door but James swung me around by the shoulders.
His fingers burned into my skin. “I was told you left the party with a man.”
“If you mean the sex maniac whose dick I yanked halfway to the Costa Brava, then yes. Not that I owe you any explanations.”
His grip relaxed. Then he caught a whiff of my dress. “Have you been drinking?”
I wrenched away from him, hurt and angry—and just a little bit loca.
“Who the hell do you think you are barging in here and demanding explanations? I’m an alcoholic, a drug-addicted slut, right? So of course I downed a bottle of rum, had a few rounds of powdery bliss and spread my legs for every guy who’d have me! It’s been a long time and I really enjoyed it, especially the stud in black leather with the massive penis.”
James’s brows knitted together, making him look like a Neanderthal throwback. In fact, he looked as if he might club me over the head and drag me into his cave. Words zinged in his eyes too quickly to catch them all but what I did see—Greg, bedroom, sex—made me want to go iron-age and whack him with a pole.