17 #2
“But I can guarantee that will never happen again. Being late is completely out of character for me. And I’m upset with myself for being late to something so important. It was extremely unprofessional.”
I stop for air as he continues dancing and shadowboxing. Is the motherfucker even listening to me?
The nipple ring glistens with sweat. I hope the other guy gets him right on the ring.
“Can I start afresh and prove myself? Will you give me another chance?”
The punching continues. Now he has his back to me, giving me a perfect view of those defined back muscles and hard mounds of ass, but it’s not helpful to my plight.
I fidget with my chain awkwardly. “Right, that’s all, Mr. Knight.”
Is he going to address me at all? The guy is just damn rude.
Or . . . Jesus, he is planning on getting me in the ring to fight this out?
Maybe I should leave.
Just as I step backwards, he stops boxing and grunts something unintelligible. Is that directed at the guy he’s sparring with or me?
He strides towards me with the intensity of a man who has been released from a maximum-security prison. His trunks hang distractingly low, so I have no choice but to flick my gaze down his ab muscles to the prominent crotch bulge.
I catch a whiff of fresh manly sweat.
As soon as our eyes lock, the burst of sexual energy is so palpable, a shiver runs up my spine.
This is insane.
He really isn’t playing fair here.
I don’t like the guy. I don’t like the guy one bit. But I sure as hell want the guy.
I dare a nun to look at him and not lose her shit.
He stares down at me as his forearms dangle over the rope. “I asked you if you could work with Max.” His breathing is still erratic from the workout. “You clearly can’t.”
Swallowing, I resume my grovelling, “Yesterday, I received some news that affected me but I’m over it now. I can work with Max, no problem.”
He leans farther over the rope until he’s almost eye level with me. “Do you know how many architects bid on the factory project?”
“All of the London conservation firms. We are very privileged to win.”
“Forty-two. I have firms all over the world trying to get ten minutes with me for a chance to work on a Lexington project.” He glares at me so ferociously I must be missing the top layer of my skin now. “ Many people would kill to be in your position.”
“Of course—”
“And you?” he says, cutting me off. “I gave you thirty minutes of my time yesterday and you threw it back in my face.”
I’m going up against a vicious boxer and this isn’t a fight I’m going to win. “I’m sorry it came across like that. To work with you and your team on the Motor Works factory is a dream for me.”
I think he’s looking for an ego boost.
“ A project like this, on an iconic East End landmark I ’ ve grown up beside, and working with someone as . . . visionary as yourself . . . will be the most exciting highlight of my career .”
The look in his eyes tells me he’s not having any of it. “It doesn’t seem that way to me. It seems you’re stuck in the past, incapable of moving forward. You ’ re too blindsided to see the opportunity right in front of you.”
I don’t know how to respond to that. Is he still talking about the project? “I see the opportunity and I want it,” I say softly. “I can share work that I’ve done on previous projects to show you my experience. Max will vouch that I’m diligent.”
My response displeases him. “I hold you to a higher standard than Max. ”
“ Why ?” I didn’t mean for it to come out a hiss. But really, why ?
He doesn’t respond.
Unblinking, deep brown eyes bore into mine with startling intensity. Sweat trickles down his forehead but it doesn’t seem to bother him. I resist the urge to wipe it away.
There’s nothing worse than silence at a time like this, so I keep on talking for both of us. “I’ll get on my knees and grovel,” I joke, “if that’s what it takes.”
Just when I thought that stone jaw couldn’t get any harder, he clenches his teeth and swallows hard. It seems I’ve pushed the man too far.
I change tactics. “Can we start afresh? Perhaps you could assess the situation after we present the first draft of the conceptual designs.” I’m asking him to give me three weeks. That’s fair.
I hold out my hand.
For an awkward beat, I think he’s going to leave me hanging but then he takes off a glove and takes my hand in his sweaty calloused one.
There’s no mistaking the current that passes between us.
I know he feels it too.
Just as it is about to get weird, he drops my hand and nods. “To starting afresh.”
I exhale a weak breath. His testosterone leaves little space for oxygen in the room. “Thank you, I really appreciate this, Mr. Knight.”
Something flashes in his eyes at the title, but he doesn’t correct me.
“I won’t take up any more of your time.”
He turns his back on me and swaggers to his sparring partner, waiting patiently in the middle of the ring.
I move towards the door, breathing freely now. That was close. To be taken off the project after the Max and Olivia revelation would be a kick in the teeth when I’m already sprawled on the ground.
“Bonnie,” he says in his gravelly voice behind me.
I turn my head to see him gazing steadily at me. “The boots suit you. Better than your bridesmaid’s shoes. Although you’d still take my fucking toes off with those boots.”
Then he turns and goes straight into punching, leaving me staring at my black leather ankle boots, feeling more confused than ever.
One thing’s for sure, never once has Max looked at me in the office the way Mr. Knight just did.