Seven Nights of Sin (Penthouse Affair #2)

“I was let go,” I say carefully. “All the interns were let go.”

“Not you,” he says with a smile. “You’ve been selected.”

“Selected?”

“Didn’t Dom tell you?”

“No,” I practically shout. Rein it in, Presley. “Dominic doesn’t tell me anything.”

“That doesn’t really change over time.” Oliver sighs, smirking. “But you’ll have plenty of opportunities to get to know him better as our new director of operations.”

My heart skips a beat. He can’t be serious. “Director . . .”

“You’ve been promoted. Congratulations.” Oliver turns and points down the hall to a small office. The door is ajar. If I squint, I can read Director of Operations in bold print on the placard. “That’s your shiny new office.”

I’m speechless. I must really be wearing a funny expression, because Oliver can’t keep it together. He laughs like I’ve told him the best joke he’s heard all year.

“Go put your stuff down. And then go see Dom. He’ll tell you about his decision. And your salary,” he says, poking me playfully in the arm.

I practically run to the little office. It is gorgeous—small but somehow feeling expansive with its tall window overlooking the cityscape. I slide my box of all-things-Presley onto the glass surface of the desk (my desk!) and wander around the room. It’s so pristine . . . so cozy.

I can imagine early mornings, sipping coffee at this desk while scrolling through emails. Bright afternoons, leaning against this window, making calls to clients. Late nights curled up on the love seat, jotting down important things to do the next day in my planner. Joy threatens to overwhelm me, but I have something to deal with first.

I stride purposefully across the office, ignoring the heads turning to watch me march toward my boss’s office. When I open the door without knocking, he’s staring out his own window, his hand on the glass.

He turns, surprised. The light catches his eyelashes and casts dark shadows across his cheekbones. I’m almost dazzled by his beauty.

Almost.

I say. It isn’t a question, but I

an almost comical expression of confusion on his face. I would laugh, but I’m too . .

packing,” I

let go. You’re not an intern

as Dominic takes slow steps toward me.

you were moving into your new office.

small voice. “But no one told

Oliver caught you when you walked in. I shouldn’t have assumed,” he says in a voice so tender, I almost look over my

just didn’t know what was going to happen

work as an intern excelled above all the others.

me. Leaning way too close, he reaches over my shoulder

brush against mine. The kiss is so warm, so precious. I feel cherished and irreplaceable with every caress of his thumb against

into his dark eyes for reassurance. “Won’t the others find it unprofessional? I don’t think they’ll take me

through my head. I can’t fall for his charms. I can’t keep sleeping with him. I need to be firm. It’s the only way.

mine and his palm on my hip. I don’t realize I’m shaking until I put my hands on his chest, not pushing him away, but not letting him come any closer either. “Don’t you want to know what your salary

pull back to look him in the eyes. “Well,

my body shakes with his. I join in, until we’re both laughing a little too loudly. He kisses me once more on the lips before taking my hand and spinning me around like we’re dancing. Suddenly, I’m back

to HR. They’re waiting for

know he can feel my gratitude by the way he smiles and shoos me away. This man can’t handle too

(oh my God, coworkers!), the reality of the situation finally sinks in. I’m about to take over an entire department

ask,

confirm the number. I can see their mouths moving, but I can barely hear them over the pounding of

clapping his hands together. Brienne joins in the

can hardly process the rest of what they tell me—something about a medical plan, stock options, paid vacation time, and a retirement account. Taking one more deep breath, I nod to everything they say, knowing I’ll