Romancing my Boss

Chapter 18 - Max's POV

The instant Charlotte sauntered through that doorway, I knew I was in trouble. The delectable flush staining those lush olive cheeks, the spark of mischievous defiance blazing in her whiskey-drenched eyes - it was evident she'd discovered my little...indiscretion with her notebook.

Not that I was even remotely apologetic about indulging my curiosity. If anything, the reckless thrill of having one of Charlotte's most closely guarded secrets laid bare before me only stoked the smoldering embers of a developing...obsession.

Yes, that's precisely what this deliciously barbed game had become - an all-consuming fixation neither of us could seem to extricate ourselves from, no matter how deeply we courted the flames licking ever closer.

"Well, well, well," I drawled, allowing my gaze to roam insolently over the open pages cradled in my grasp. "What do we have here?"

Charlotte bristled like a feral cat backed into a corner, the sight of it sending a primitively wicked shiver of perverse satisfaction rippling through me. I drank in every simmering reaction as my eyes roamed over annotated doodles and scribbled memos detailing her...delightfully ill-conceived efforts to "tame" me, no doubt.

"Give me that!" she snarled, those lush lips pulling back over pristine teeth as she lunged forward with feisty determination.

Reacting on instinct, I held the notebook just above her reach, my arm extended to maintain the distance, well out of her tantalizingly futile reach. The move angled my forearm in perfect alignment with the gentle swell of her ample cleavage, a tempting glimpse of soft curves filling my periphery. I was abruptly, viscerally reminded of just how...lush this woman's form truly was beneath those cloaking layers of professional attire.

Clearing my throat roughly, I forced my attention back to the matter at hand - baiting Charlotte into the primal back-and-forth that seemed to simmer so effortlessly between us. "I'm quite enjoying this little glimpse into your tragic attempt at apologetic-courtship," I murmured, making a show of perusing a particularly absurd suggestion.

A muscle feathered erratically in Charlotte's jaw as that delectable crimson hue darkened several shades. If I didn't know any better, I would've sworn she was mentally plotting my demise, perhaps envisioning a variety of creative methods to put an end to my existence.

Yet...even awash in utter humiliation, Charlotte's spirit refused to be dimmed. I could practically taste the defiance sparking in her gaze as she straightened to her full - admittedly modest - height and lifted that stubborn chin in a decidedly cocky tilt.

"Keep laughing, Maximilian," she purred in that honeyed rasp that never failed to curl low in my gut. "But just you wait - by the time I'm done, you will ask me nicely to stop 'apologizing'."

And just like that, the infuriating little mischief maker had turned the tables with shameless provocation. One dark brow inched its way towards my hairline as laughter's hot rasp faded to silence. Pinning Charlotte's lithe form with an assessing stare, I felt my lips curve in a slow, feral grin of undisguised challenge.

This woman...this utterly maddening siren...she really didn't comprehend the dangerous waters she was wading into. Stoking the flames of this volatile connection between us was akin to detonating a highly combustible element and daring the fallout not to bury us both in its smoldering wake. Yet still, I found myself powerless to resist rising to the bait she so expertly dangled before me.

"Is that so?" I rasped, voice losing several vital degrees as it plunged to graveled depths. "You're going to make me beg, are you?"

Charlotte's eyes danced with the same heady fusion of arrogance and taunting promise mirrored in my own. Stalking forward with that same feline grace that never failed to captivate my senses, she halted just before me. The scent of her - all warm florals and feminine temptation - washed over me in an intoxicating wave.

"Oh yes, Mr. Pemberton," she murmured, full lips curving into a grin of wicked delight. "Consider this the only warning. We can end this silly punishment now before it gets out of hand...or else."

Our gazes locked and held, charged awareness crackling with incendiary heat in the dimness pressing around us. That delectable lower lip found itself ensnared by even white teeth as Charlotte battled visibly with the wisps of lingering restraint.

I watched, utterly transfixed, as the final shreds of propriety seemed to wither in that blazing whiskey stare. What remained was a scorching promise of unfettered chaos and reckless provocation to come.

Outwardly, I matched her insolent grin with one of blatant arrogance. Inwardly...I was rapidly losing my grip on the uncompromising discipline that had reigned me in at every turn.

Charlotte's uniquely audacious spirit had ignited a desperate craving for that chaos she embodied so effortlessly. And I found myself powerless to resist the lures of its intoxicating siren song.

"By all means, Ms. Bennett," I finally purred, the words dripping with deliberate provocation. "I'll enjoy watching you try."

The slender column of her throat shifted with a delicate swallow as I made a show of settling further into my chair, forearms propped insolently on the rests. Game recognizing game in that heated exchange of weighted stares.

When Charlotte sank into the worn leather across from me, pinning me with that mischievous look of deliciously ludicrous resolution, it was all I could do to maintain my implacable mask of arrogant nonchalance.

"Don't say I didn't warn you..." That lush, raspy purr dripped with promised chaos. "You want romance and grand gestures? You've got it, buddy."

And there it was - that infinitesimal fracture in my composure as a breathless sort of dark anticipation took root somewhere in the region of my solar plexus. I had just taken the utterly reckless gambit in pushing Charlotte's buttons too far...and the fallout was guaranteed to be everything I'd been so studiously avoiding for far too long.

The ruthless discipline that was my armor suddenly felt discouragingly flimsy in the face of that devilish, dimpled grin tugging at the delectable curves of Charlotte's mouth. As she leveled me with that look of utter certainty that the game was irrevocably on...I had the sinking realization that I'd vastly underestimated her potential to upturn my world entirely.

And somewhere, buried beneath the imperious veneer I projected with practiced ease...a deeply primal part of me thrilled at the utter chaos about to detonate between us.

And how did we get here well, for that we'll have to turn the clocks back. To Friday night at precisely 8 pm on the dot.