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The Billionaire’s Forbidden Desire(32)



Still, her heart felt heavy and off-kilter. And she hated herself for letting Dane affect her like this.

* * *

Over an hour of hard running didn’t do anything to lessen the horrible restlessness riding Dane. Finished, he stood in front of his penthouse window, wiped the sweat off his face and torso with disgust and swigged a sports drink. The city glittered on the other side of the glass—a pretty, sparkling veneer without substance.

He’d started running as a kind of therapy after the accident in Paris. It helped him chase away the nasty memories—the horrible sound of metal crashing into metal and the smell of blood and burnt rubber.

Shirley had said the victims were given five million dollars. Five million. A life-changing amount, far too much for a mere accident. Dane had never tried to find out what had happened to them that would warrant such a payment. He’d been too afraid to ask. Still was.

Now that visions of Sophia and Salazar had entered the toxic attic of his brain, running until his leg muscles were about to explode didn’t do the trick anymore.

Maybe he should try smashing his head against the wall a few times, see if that would help him forget. Inducing amnesia seemed like a great idea.

But given his luck, he’d probably forget everything but the shit he didn’t want to remember.

His mobile vibrated on the counter. Dane glared at it. Who could be calling? It was already well past one.

His eyebrows pinched together when he saw his father’s name on the screen. Why the hell was he calling instead of doing what he did best with Sophia?

To gloat, undoubtedly.

Despite his better judgment, Dane set it on speaker. “What do you want?”

“I’m firing Kim,” Salazar said without a preamble.

That made Dane pause. His father only hired the prettiest girls he could find as assistants, regardless of their suitability, then let them go after a few months so that, having gotten to know the women, he could fuck them without worrying about sexual harassment lawsuits. Dane considered that to be the height of stupidity, but so far it’d worked for Salazar.

But Kimberly Sanford was different. She’d lasted for years despite the fact that she was objectively hot, and that meant the woman had to be damn good at her job. And she’d never struck Dane as the type to succumb to Salazar’s charm.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I want you to hire her,” Salazar said like it was the most obvious thing.

“And why would I do that?”

“Because you got rid of your assistant. Kim’s good at her job, and it’d be a shame to put her on unemployment.”

“Then don’t fire her.”

“Have to. I told somebody else I’d give her a job.”

“Really?” Dane’s mouth twisted into an ugly smile. It was probably some dumb but pretty bimbo who couldn’t type her name without breaking her fingernails. “Before or after you slept with her?”

“Don’t be crude.”

“I learned from the best. Who’s going to be your new assistant?”

“Sophia.”

The sports drink bottle crunched as Dane clenched his hand.

“What was that?” Salazar asked.

Dane ignored his father. “Is she actually any good?”

“No idea. But who cares? She said she wanted a job.”

Wanted a job, did she? For what? If she became the second Mrs. Salazar Pryce, she wouldn’t need to work. His father had more money than Rick Reed had ever dreamed of. “Why does she want to work?”

“Why does anybody work? Boredom? Shits and giggles?”

“Instead of playing musical jobs, it might be better if I just hired Sophia directly.”

“So you can scare the shit out of her like you do with all your assistants? Or is it because you want to fuck her?”

“Unlike you, I don’t fuck my employees, terminated or otherwise.”

“Ah, but you want to. I saw the way you were looking at her.”

Dane breathed deeply, controlling his temper.

“Too bad she came home with me.”

“Is there a point to this conversation?”

“Just letting you know I took your advice about sleeping with pretty young things very seriously. Because you were right. It’s just the thing to get me out of my funk.” A short pause and a smug chuckle. “What does it feel like to want my leftovers?”

Fury seared through Dane—his whole body throbbed with it. You’re with my fucking leftovers was on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it. It would’ve been satisfying for him, but Sophia…

Shit. He didn’t even know why he gave a damn about her. He’d warned her, but she’d made her choice clear by going home with his father, hadn’t she?