Page 72 of Just a Little Tempted

“You can have five minutes.”

I was being petty, and I didn’t care. Simon nodded anyway, relief washing over his features. He gestured toward the chair, and I sat, deliberately choosing the armchair instead of the couch so he couldn’t position himself beside me.

But Simon apparently had no interest in distance. He lowered himself onto the coffee table directly in front of me, close enough that our knees nearly touched. His elbows rested on his thighs as he leaned forward, closing the space between us until I could see every line of exhaustion on his face, every shadow of regret in his eyes.

“I’ve never told you why I’ve had such a hard time keeping assistants,” he said.

I arched an eyebrow. “I assumed it was your winning personality.”

His mouth twitched. Almost a smile, but not quite. “When Liam and I opened the investment firm, I hired an assistant named Carla. On paper, she was more than qualified, with a business degree and years of experience as an executive assistant. I really thought I’d learned my lesson about trusting the wrong people after what happened with Chuck,” Simon continued, his gaze dropping to his hands before lifting back up to me. “But I convinced myself Carla was different. That she was capable. Then, a few months after we launched, she sent an email with confidential financial information to the wrong person. She didn’t just blow the deal, she violated the NDA we’dsigned. Liam had to use every ounce of charm he possessed to keep us from being sued.”

He paused, and I watched the tension ripple through his shoulders.

“We’d barely even gotten started, and our business was almost destroyed. Because I trusted the wrong person.Again.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. “After that, I couldn’t bring myself to depend on anyone. I kept finding fault with every assistant who came through because it was easier than trusting them or risking that kind of failure again.”

The anger in my chest shifted, making room for something more complicated. Understanding, maybe. It didn’t excuse what he’d done, but I was starting to see the shape of his fears more clearly. The pattern of betrayal that had taught him trust was dangerous. The walls he’d built to protect himself from ever feeling that vulnerable again.

He wasn’t a villain. He was a wounded man who’d let his scars dictate his reactions. That didn’t make it okay. But it made it… comprehensible.

“I promised myself I’d never fully trust anyone in business again,” Simon said quietly. “Convinced myself I was better off doing everything alone. And I did. For years, I did.” His eyes held mine, and the raw honesty in them made my breath catch. “Until you came along and knocked down every wall I’d built. With your sunshine personality and your ridiculous fake dating scheme and the way you made mewantto let someone in again, but on a more personal level.”

He reached out slowly, giving me time to pull away, and took one of my hands in both of his when I didn’t. His fingers traced over my knuckles, the touch almost reverent.

“You made me trust you without even trying, Raina. And when everything went wrong yesterday, I just… lost it. Iconvinced myself the past was repeating itself. That I’d put my faith in the wrong person again.” His grip tightened slightly, his voice dropping. “Even while I was saying those things to you, it felt wrong. But I was so lost in my own fear that I convinced myself I was justified.”

He lifted my hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against my knuckles. The gesture was so tender, so at odds with the cold fury I’d faced yesterday, that my heart clenched painfully.

“I was wrong,” he said against my skin. “I was so wrong, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the things I said, for the way I made you feel, for not giving you even a moment to explain. You deservesomuch better.”

The apology hit differently this time. Not just words thrown out to end an argument, but something deeper. Something that cost him to say. I felt the last of my anger beginning to soften, the rigid walls around my heart developing cracks.

“It wasn’t fair,” I said quietly. “To punish me for other people’s mistakes.”

“I know.” His easy agreement doused what remained of my indignation. “It wasn’t fair, and it won’t happen again. I swear to you, Raina. I will never let my past poison what we have again.”

I wanted to stay angry. Part of me thought I should, that forgiveness shouldn’t come this easily after the kind of hurt he’d inflicted. But the truth was, my feelings for him hadn’t disappeared in that parking lot. They’d been battered and bruised, but they were still there. Still stubbornly, inconveniently alive.

I wasn’t the type to hold grudges, especially not when someone was so clearly, genuinely sorry. And Simon… Simon was laying himself bare in a way I suspected he’d never done for anyone. The proud, controlled man I knew was sitting on my coffee table, holding my hand like it was something precious,admitting fault in a way that clearly didn’t come naturally to him.

It wasn’t nothing. It was, maybe,everything.

He brought one hand to my face, cupping my cheek with a gentleness that made my eyes sting. I leaned into the touch despite myself, craving the warmth of his palm against my skin.

“I need you to come back,” he murmured. “You’re the only person I trust.”

My heart stuttered. “You want me to keep working for you?”

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Small but real, transforming his exhausted features into something approaching hope. “I want you to be my girl first. More than anything. But yes, if you’re willing, I’d also like you to come back to work for me.”

I should make him wait. Tell him I needed time to think about it, that forgiveness couldn’t be granted so quickly. But Simon had stripped away every layer of armor, shown me the fears and failures he’d spent years hiding from the world. He’d trusted me with the parts of himself he liked least.

That kind of vulnerability deserved to be met with honesty.

“I think my five minutes are up,” Simon said, uncertainty creeping into his voice. For the first time since he’d arrived, he looked nervous and genuinely unsure of what I would say. “So… what do you think?”

I let him wait a beat longer, watching the anxiety flicker across his features. Then I allowed myself a small smirk. “I want a raise.”

Simon’s face split into a wide, beaming grin that crinkled the skin around his eyes. He looked relieved and happy andhopeful.Everything I was feeling too, bubbling up beneath the surface of my carefully maintained composure.