5. Harper
CHAPTER 5
HARPER
I burst into Silas’s office, my blood boiling with anger, every step echoing my fury across the room. He’s lounging back in his chair, phone pressed to his ear, speaking in that silky, self-assured tone that never fails to irritate me. Without hesitation, I stride forward and slam my palm onto his polished mahogany desk, the sound reverberating around us.
“Hang up. Now!” I demand, my voice sharp and unwavering.
Silas’s eyes widen for a fleeting moment, a crack in his composed facade before they narrow into steely slits. “I’ll have to call you back,” he mutters into the receiver, his voice suddenly calm and measured. He places the phone down with exaggerated care as if handling a delicate artifact while keeping his gaze locked on mine.
“To what do I owe this charming interruption?” Silas asks, leaning back in his leather chair.
“Cut the crap, Silas. I know what you’re doing.” My voice trembles with barely contained rage, my hands clenched tightly at my sides.
He raises an eyebrow with a look of feigned innocence. “And what, pray tell, am I doing?” His voice is smooth, each word dripping with calculated calm.
“You’re trying to sabotage my store for no good reason. So, you don’t like the color? Are you a child?” I spit out the words. “Cyrus Williams’s sudden interest in my lease, and I know this leads back to you.”
Silas’s face remains impassive, but I catch a flicker of something in his eyes. Amusement? Or is it guilt? “That’s quite an accusation, Harper. Do you have any proof?”
I clench my fists so tightly that my knuckles turn white and bluff, “Yes, I have proof, and I’m prepared to use it. You won’t get away with it.” My voice is steady, but my heart races.
Silas stands up and slowly comes around from behind his desk, his imposing figure casting a long shadow over me. “You do not. Your poker face stinks,” he retorts, his voice dripping with condescension that ignites a fiery anger within me.
The room feels charged with tension. Before I can stop myself, a surge of adrenaline propels me forward, and I reach out to shove him, my palms colliding with his chest with a forceful thud.
Caught by surprise, he quickly loses his balance and tumbles over a chair, landing flat on his ass.
I’m mortified, but too furious to help him to his feet.
“Jesus Christ, Brooks. And you called me a child.”
I stand over him, my chest heaving with anger as I stare at him sprawled on the floor. His expensive suit is rumpled, his perfectly coiffed hair mussed. I should feel satisfied seeing him like this, but his laughter fuels my rage.
“You think this is funny?” I spit out.
Silas sits up, an infuriating smirk still plastered on his face. “Oh, come on, Harper. You have to admit, it’s a little amusing. You just lost your cool like a spoiled teenage brat who didn’t get her way.”
I resist the urge to literally kick him while he’s down. “You think you can just toy with people’s lives and get away with it? This is my first business. I’ve poured time, sweat, and tears into doing this on my own, but if you force my hand, I’ll show you just how childish I can be.”
Silas stands up slowly, brushing off his suit. “I’m a businessman, Harper. It’s what I do. This isn’t personal.”
“You’re a monster,” I hiss. “And your ridiculous hotel is a gaudy and overpriced flophouse.”
Silas, a grown man pushing forty, gasps loudly at the insult to his precious jewel of a hotel. “Flophouse? La Belle Epoque is the number one hotel in New York. Kings, queens, presidents, and dignitaries choose to stay at my hotel?—”
I cut him off with a wave of my hand. “Oh, stop bragging about that eyesore. I only chose my location because I got a bargain on it. No one wants to be so close to your snotty clientele, constant security checks, and traffic barricades because some problematic diplomat is in town.”
Silas steps closer, invading my personal space.
I refuse to back down, glaring up at him.
“Why are you here?” he says softly. “You seem capable enough to handle whatever roadblocks I throw your way.”
I’m unsure if he’s mocking or daring me to do something crazy.
I try to keep my breathing steady as Silas takes another step toward me, his eyes locked on mine with an intensity that makes my pulse quicken. The air between us feels charged, electric, but I’d like to believe my heart has somehow confused rage for passion.
Silas chuckles softly, clearly enjoying my state. “You’re cute when you’re flustered,” he tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers graze my cheek, and I’m forced to suppress a shiver.
“That’s incredibly insulting and just what I’d expect from someone like you.” I step back, hoping to save face by retreating from his orbit.
“No insult intended,” Silas says, his voice low and husky. You’re a colossal pain in my ass, but you can’t deny there’s something more than animosity between us.” A knowing smirk plays at the corners of his mouth. “I see how you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention.”
“You’re insane and obviously projecting.” Heat rushes to my cheeks. Am I really that transparent?
“Oh, come on,” Silas teases, closing the distance between us.
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I manage to stammer, taking another step back. My ass bump against his wall, and I realize with a jolt that I’m trapped between Silas and the sturdy oak surface.
His eyes glitter with amusement and something darker, more primal. “No?” he asks, leaning in closer. “Then why are you blushing?”
I gasp as Silas’s lips crash against mine with an intensity that sends shockwaves through my entire body. His strong arms wrap around me like a protective cocoon, drawing me into his warmth. For a fleeting moment, I attempt to push him away, my palms flat against his hard chest. Yet, as his fingers weave through my hair with a gentle urgency and he pulls me closer, my resolve crumbles like a fragile wall.
A small, involuntary whimper escapes my lips as I succumb to the kiss, my mouth parting instinctively. My arms, seemingly with a mind of their own, snake around his neck, pulling him closer. I press myself against him, savoring the comforting heat radiating from his body. The kiss deepens, evolving into something hungry and desperate as if we’re trying to make up for weeks of unspoken tension and longing at this moment.
My head spins in a dizzying whirl of emotions, and I clutch at Silas’s shoulders to steady myself, feeling the muscles tense beneath my fingers. This is so much more intense and exhilarating than I could have imagined. A small, rational part of me knows we shouldn’t be doing this, that there are likely consequences lurking in the shadows. But right now, with Silas’s hands exploring the contours of my back and his scent enveloping me, I can’t bring myself to care.
His lips brush my ear as he whispers, “You’ve been wanting this all day, haven’t you, brat?”
I shiver, heat pooling low in my belly. “Maybe,” I breathe.
Silas growls, nipping at my neck. “Don’t play coy now.”
My fingers tangle in his hair as he kisses a path along my jaw. “And how’s that?” I ask, my voice breathy and unfamiliar to my own ears.
“Like you want me to throw you down and have my way with you,” he presses his lips against my skin. “Like you’re begging for a firm hand.”
A whimper escapes me as he squeezes my hips. “Silas…”
In one swift motion, he lifts me into his arms. I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me toward the door. The lock clicks into place, and a thrill runs through me.
“No more games,” Silas says, his eyes dark with desire. “I’m going to give you exactly what you need.”
Silas drops me onto the leather couch in his office, the cool material a shock against my flushed skin. My breath catches as he slowly unbuttons his crisp white shirt, revealing tanned, chiseled abs underneath. I ache to run my hands over them, to feel the hard planes of his body.
“Please,” I whimper, trying to touch him.
He shakes his head, a wicked gleam in his dark eyes. “Not yet, sweetheart.”
Silas grasps my thighs, spreading my legs wide. With a quick motion, he tears my lacy underwear away, leaving me exposed and trembling with need.
“You’re so wet for me already,” Silas growls, his voice low and husky. “I bet you taste divine. Should I find out?”
I can only nod frantically, beyond words, as his fingers trail up my inner thigh.
“Tell me you’re going to be a good girl for me,” Silas commands. “I want to hear you say it.”
“I’ll be the best girl.”