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ONE
duncan
I should fire her.
It wasn’t the first time I’d had that thought, but every time the other women in the office caught me looking at my assistant a little too long, the thought resurfaced.
Yes, that was a basis to terminate someone’s employment—because I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. Actually, I’d considered firing the others in my office more than once as well—for all the flak they gave Rosabel about me.
But that wasn’t grounds for firing anyone, either.
Really, though, The Pact was the main reason that my infatuation with my assistant was a problem.
I tried not to pay attention to Rosabel. I tried not to like her as much as I did.
But I couldn’t help it.
The Pact I’d signed back in college was now my biggest worry as far as Rosabel was concerned. Since Gabby, Ella, and most recently, Adelie—and strangely enough, her grandma—had been targeted, I was even more determined to keep my feelings for Rosabel to myself.
I refused to be the cause of any harm that came to her.
I flexed my fist, remembering my most recent match at the dojo. My arm was still sore after the way the coach had bent it so far backward.
I’d taken on not only my instructor but several other training partners at once. They knocked into me. I even had the bruises and the scab on my lip to show for it. And I’d still come off the victor of that match. The guys had congratulated me, but my victory wasn’t only to satiate my pride for the sake of it.
Ulrich Phillips had revealed himself to be The Informant we’d been searching for since Christmas. I’d taken him on—sort of.
In the darkness, and with him dressed in all black, my visibility had been limited. Admittedly, I wasn’t the best at hand-to-hand. I was more of a ground fighter, but Ulrich had knocked his elbow into my face before I’d gotten the chance to take him down and hold him there. He’d gotten away.
So I’d been changing my strategies. I’d adjusted my main focus to learn to fight on my feet. If it came down to fighting for Rosabel or anyone else’s safety, I wasn’t going to let anyone get the better of me again.
That threat was the reason I should let her go. Fire her. Send her to continue her life without me in it.
I could do it if I had to. At least, that was what I thought. But then she came into my view—like she did now—and I stared at her. I talked to her. I admired her pluck, her determination, her work ethic, and perseverance. And I forgot all the reasons I should let her go and clung to the reasons I didn’t want to.
It was selfish, and I knew it. But I also knew one other irrefutable detail:
I was strong. As long as I kept my distance from her—kept my feelings to myself—she was fine.
Rosabel wore a plaid blouse, a pencil skirt that made her look like a bud in spring, and heels that emphasized just how tonedher legs were. Her chestnut hair swayed with the lilt in her hips, and everything about her filled me with all kinds of thoughts that weren’t appropriate for the workplace or for someone who was my employee.
She’d had this effect on me from the start. She had, however, been dating someone else at the time, so I couldn’t act on my feelings even though they’d only gotten worse with every passing day.
Every time she swooped in to deliver my coffee or set memos on my desk, leaving a waft of her perfume behind, every time she peered at me with irritation in her rich chocolate eyes, it only stirred the embers, reigniting the flame. So I’d done what I could to push those feelings away.
She’d ended things with whatshisname—Pete Something—over two months ago, but with Ulrich on the loose attacking my friends, I had an all-new reason to keep my distance from Rosabel now.
That reason only made me that much grumpier every time she was around.
I sat behind my desk, gripping the pen in my hand and clicking it multiple times in a row.Click-click-click-click. Rosabel strutted in through my open door, drifting that rosy fragrance in my direction, not looking at me as she passed my desk.
Which, of course, only made me stare at her more.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
She muttered under her breath, opening the blinds to splash sunlight into my face. I lifted a hand, blinking the newly visible dust motes out of my view. She then rotated the spider plant with its dripping green fronds perched on the stand between my desk and the window.
Sunlight created a glow around her. Her normally dazzling brown eyes, which could rival any rare gemstone, were rimmed with red.
