Billionaire Bad Boys of Romance Boxed Set (10 Book Bundle) (45 page)

What began as a mission to usurp Mr. Collins’s power over her mind morphed into self-improvement for its own sake. Natasha learned Italian and German. She unpacked her violin, rosin, and music stand. She took classes and upped her skills as a database wizard and Excel guru. This spawned an ambition to earn her Masters degree. 

Natasha improved her posture, no longer feeling the urge to slouch and minimize her height. She cut her hair. The winsome bob framed her face as beautifully as the new clothes enhanced her figure and the dark red lipstick drew attention to her full lips.

One morning after her initial shopping excursion Mr. Collins slid an envelope across the desk. Natasha was surprised to read she now had a clothing allowance. Her wardrobe appreciated it and so did her savings account.

Life was glorious.

Natasha no longer believed Mr. Collins better than her. She didn’t see him as inhabiting an unreachable tier. She recognized him for the brilliant strategist and incredibly dedicated executive he was but nothing more.

At least that was all she’d publicly admit to.

Truthfully, Natasha found Mr. Collins to be the subject of her thoughts more often than not. His cologne intoxicated her. She often wished to press her nose against his neck just to keep smelling it. His rare smile did curious things to her tummy. Natasha enjoyed watching him work. Mr. Collins had an inexhaustible supply of energy—he never seemed to tire. That observation generally led to lurid speculation of what he was like in bed which caused Natasha to mentally castigate herself.

No, Mr. Collins was her boss and not the object of her secret lust. She respected him as a colleague, a mentor, and a human being. Nothing more.

Wanting to believe that lie is where I went wrong.

Earlier in the day Natasha accompanied Mr. Collins to lunch. Somewhere between the main course and checking her phone for a critical e-mail, Mr. Collins cupped her chin, leaned in, and murmured, “Hold still, Natasha.”

The phone dropped, hit her knee, and slid beneath the table.

“You have an eyelash.” He brushed it away with the pad of his thumb before returning back to his meal.

Natasha’s enlightenment plunged back into the blackest hell of confusion.

Mr. Collins had just touched her. The man she had spent the better part of the last fifteen months, the person whose very existence compelled her to push past her limits, the superior who was responsible for her superstar status
had just touched her
. Not only had he touched her but he also did what he had never done before—he called her by her first name.

Part of me wasn’t sure he even knew it.

Natasha remained quiet and moved in a daze for the rest of the day. Every time she thought back to that tiny moment in time, her body flushed and her legs trembled. Fear and lust made a mess of her mind.

And now she was going to pay for it.

* * * *

“I cannot tolerate mistakes of any kind, Natasha. Your incompetence becomes
my
incompetence. I am not incompetent in any way, shape, or form.”

Natasha kept her feet planted even though his quiet venom blindsided her. She should’ve known something terrible was going to happen when Mr. Collins called her into his office. His voice held a note of intensity she’d never heard before. Nimble mind racing, Natasha tried to pinpoint exactly what she did wrong and came up blank. “No, Mr. Collins.”

“Yet, you sent out company-wide correspondence from
this
office with an error.” He handed her a printout before returning back to his desk.

“Yes, Mr. Collins.” Natasha fought the urge to cower. She scanned over the document, looking for the unacceptable chink in her flawless record.

“Don’t you think this is what you should have done before you sent this out?”

“I am so sorry, Mr. Collins.” She zeroed in on the flaw only to see it wasn’t as disgusting as she imagined. In fact, it wasn’t even a flaw. “The semicolon.”

“Yes, the semicolon.”

Heat stained her cheeks. A relieved smile eased the paleness in her face. “I believe this is an acceptable use of the semicolon.”

The temperature dropped by several degrees. “You dare argue with me?”

Natasha’s sharp inhale cut the air. She wished she had something to lean back against since she lost all feeling in her legs. “I am not arguing with you. I am merely pointing out that the use of a semicolon is perfectly within bounds.”

“I do not agree.”

What the hell do you want me to do about it?

Mr. Collins was in a snit. She would handle him as she would an unreasonable despot with too much power. Placation. “Would you like me to send out a revised e-mail?”

“No, I would not.” Mr. Collins came around his desk and stepped forward until he was perilously close to invading her personal space. “What I wanted was for you to have sent it out correctly the first time.”

Natasha met his stare. It condemned. Her mouth ran away from her. “It was correct, Sir.”

Mr. Collins narrowed his eyes. He took another step. “Do not take that impudent tone with me, Miss Reynolds.”

“I am not being impudent—”

“Do
not
argue with me, Miss Reynolds.”

Natasha held up the paper. “There is nothing wrong with this. No one will believe it to be a mistake.”

Mr. Collins ripped the sheet from her hands. “You are on dangerous ground with me.”

Natasha imagined the cardboard box and Mr. Yum-Yum’s pitiful meows. She thought of how high up she had climbed from the girl she’d been when working for Melinda. Natasha remembered the pride she felt in knowing she had pushed through her mediocrity—a mediocrity she never knew existed until working for Mr. Collins. Natasha recalled the generous clothing allowance he had procured for her so her new raise wouldn’t be eaten up by tailored suits and delicious shoes.

I’m going to be fine.

“I’m on dangerous ground? Well, so are you, Mr. Collins.”

“Is that so?” A craven smile crooked his mouth. “Then this isn’t going to matter one way or another, is it?”

The tiny hairs on Natasha’s neck rose. She watched him circle around her to leave the office. Satisfied Mr. Collins couldn’t hear or see her, Natasha sagged and drew in greedy gulps of air.

I’m going to be fine. Sure I am. I’m going to be fine. . .living in my cardboard box! What the hell was I thinking? I should’ve just apologized and—wait! What did he mean by that? What’s not going to matter one way or another?

The door closed behind her. Natasha whirled around. “Mr. Collins?”

He undid his tie as he walked back to her. His steps, always graceful and unhurried, now took on an aggressive gait. “Yes, Natasha?”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know you don’t. You never do until I show you the way.” Mr. Collins slipped off his suit jacket and tossed it onto a nearby chair.

She closed her eyes and inhaled. Beginning again, Natasha summoned a professional calm she didn’t readily feel. “What would you like me to do?”

“Take off your clothes, Natasha”

“Excuse me?” This time Natasha stumbled back until she hit his desk.

“You heard me. I want your clothes off but leave on your underwear. Then I want you to turn around so I can tie you up.”

“You’ve lost your mind. It’s the contract for Blanc Industries, isn’t it? Mr. Collins, I know you’ve worked overnight several times this week—”

“Which has nothing to do with now.” Mr. Collins crossed his arms. “You asked what I would like you to do. I’ve answered. Now do it.”

Natasha shook her head. “Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“Why now?” She sidled further down the desk. His penetrating gaze speared her in place. “I mean. . .what brought this on?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.” Mr. Collins neatly trapped Natasha by placing a hand on either side of her. “You made the decision to submit to me shortly after you first came here.”

“And?”

“You admit it.” Mr. Collins smiled and observed the affect he had on her. Something akin to pride warmed his tone when Natasha relaxed a tiny bit into him. “You don’t even try to deny it. Why is that?”

“Because it’s true.”

“And being honest means everything to you, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Then let me be honest with you, Natasha.” Mr. Collins tipped her chin up. He observed her flaming cheeks with obvious pleasure. “I want to finish what you started. You’ve submitted to me as part of your position. Now I want you to submit to me completely. I have your mind. I want your body too.”

“What about my heart?” Natasha could’ve kicked herself for letting that question out the bag.

God! What am I? Sixteen?

Mr. Collins cupped her face. His hands, slim with elegant tapered fingers, enchanted Natasha. His touch, foreign until now, felt so right.

“I want it all.”

“Why now?”

“I believe I’ve answered that.”

“No, you haven’t.” Natasha placed her hands over his. “Why are you being this way to me now? I’ve worked with you for over a year and you’ve never indicated you thought of me as anything other than your employee.”

“I have. You just haven’t been as observant as I would’ve preferred you to be.” Mr. Collins’s heated gaze swept over her. “I’ve been remarkably patient with you, Natasha.”

She bristled. “Meaning I’ve been less than satisfactory?”

“Meaning why do you think you’re here? I saw you…I wanted you…I took you.”

Natasha couldn’t deny the thrill his words caused. “You saw me? When?”

“One week before you started working for me.” Mr. Collins slid his hands down to loosely encircle her neck. “Our eyes met.”

Natasha remembered the exact moment. As the summoned IT members were filing out of the boardroom, she had looked across the gleaming table and inadvertently met his stare. All the air had escaped her. It took a jostle from Jeremy, a senior programmer, to break contact.

“The servers.”

“Yes, when your department allowed the servers to go down.”

Her chin went up a militant notch. “We didn’t allow the servers to go down. The dedicated servers—”

“Yes, yes. An Act of God. I remember.” Mr. Collins caressed her throat. “You looked like a rabbit. A very delicious, adorable rabbit.”

Natasha’s lower lip pushed out. “You thought of me as a pet?”

“Pet? I must confess that does open up many possibilities. I’m quite sure we’ll explore it later. No. In fact, I like it so much I’ll explore it tonight. Thank you, Miss Reynolds, for your valuable insight.”

His lazy smile made her squirm. Natasha damned the permanent blush painting her cheeks and neck. “Then what did you think of me?”

“Prey.” Mr. Collins cocked his head in question. “Didn’t you think of yourself in that way?”

Yes.

Her heart thumped faster. She wondered if he could hear it. “Am I still your prey?”

“Absolutely.” He leaned down and kissed her jaw. “I can’t wait to know how good you taste.”

Natasha sighed in bliss. When she dropped her head back Mr. Collins took advantage and bit her neck. She jerked forward with a soft cry. Forbidden pleasure called for Natasha to stop asking questions and to just let herself be taken by her delightfully dangerous boss.

Sometimes I can just be too stubborn for my own good. This is obviously going to be one of those times.

“Do you do this with all your assistants? Find a reason to cut them to pieces just so you can get them naked?” Mr. Collins pushed her down. She banged the back of her head against the desk. Natasha didn’t bother to hide the stab of pain it caused.

“Never.”

His fiery glare surprised her. Natasha didn’t think him capable of showing anything than frosty disdain. “There’s no need for you to be angry,” she pointed out while rubbing the tender spot on her scalp. “It was a perfectly reasonable question to ask.”

“It demeans us both.” He gripped her wrists and held them above her head. “I have never fucked my secretary.”

“Executive assistant.”

Her prim distinction aroused his biting arrogance. “Executive assistant, secretary, office wife—they all mean the same thing. You’re mine.”

“I haven’t agreed to anything yet, Mr. Collins.”

He bared his teeth in a wolfish grin. “I’m not asking, Miss Reynolds.”

“So you’d be willing to force me even if I said no?”

“But it wouldn’t be force, would it?” Mr. Collins’s mouth hovered over Natasha’s. “You’ve already agreed or you wouldn’t be on this fact-finding mission. You want to do it but you don’t want to just be one in a long line of others. You want to be the only one. Isn’t that right?”

Natasha stared into his eyes, caught in their dark, hypnotic pull. “Am I?”

“Yes. I told you already. I am not dating anyone, nor am I engaged or married.”

“So you came to me.”

“I came
for
you. I grew tired of waiting for you to realize what this has been all about between us. I’m taking you and I want you completely.” His tongue furtively tasted her. Mr. Collins groaned when hers met his shyly. He pulled away, jaw line clenched. Gripping her chin, Mr. Collins bit out, “Now I want you to fully understand what we will be doing here. Are you ready to listen?”