Jilly was just like all the rest. Once again, he’d made a fool of himself.
He put his fork down. As good as this meal was, he’d lost his appetite.
“Sorry, Jilly,” he said quietly. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Why not?” she asked, sounding surprised. “I liked it!”
“Did you?”
“Of course. Didn’t you?”
This time, it was he who got the full force of her dazzling smile instead of the waiter. Her whole face lit up when she smiled. There was a thick lock of strawberry blonde hair falling across her face that he longed to reach out and touch but he’d already pushed the boundaries far enough. He couldn’t help but smile back.
“Yes,” he told her. “I liked it very much. But I’m afraid I took advantage of you.”
“No, you didn’t.”
Her matter-of-fact answer made him grin. He swallowed. She stretched out her fingers, the tip of her nail brushing against his knuckle, a gentle, teasing touch that made his hand tingle and his cock throb. Get a grip, Stevenson! he told himself. You’re acting like a love-sick teenager.
“I hope I wasn’t too bad at it,” she told him shyly, blushing. “It’s the first kiss I’ve had since...” Her voice trailed off.
What was she talking about? Had she been single since breaking up with her daughter’s father? A woman with her looks? It seemed unthinkable.
He chuckled. “You weren’t bad,” he assured her. “But if you want some more practice, I’m happy to oblige.”
The giggle that escaped her lips was girlish and innocent and her blush grew deeper. It made him desire her even more and brought his protective instincts to the fore. He stifled a groan. His swollen cock pressed uncomfortably against the seam of his pants.
He picked up his fork again. His appetite was back.
Murder trial and client be damned. The more time he spent with Jilly, the more he wanted her. She was the little girl he’d been wanting for years and he wasn’t going to throw away the opportunity.
Chapter Six
Two days later, Jilly was late to work again. It wasn’t intentional; exhaustion caused her to sleep through her alarm. By the time she finally awoke to find Lily standing beside her bed, she was late. Way late. Even though they both rushed, it was no good. Lily was late for school. Jilly was late for work. Very late.
She was so late that traffic flowed smoothly the whole way into the city so she made it in record time. But still, it wasn’t enough. She stepped out of the lift at exactly nineteen minutes past nine.
Mr. Hutchings himself was in the receptionist’s office when she arrived, speaking to Janice. All eyes were on her the second she walked into the room. She wanted to shrink through the floor. He frowned, looked at his watch. His frown deepened. He looked at her, displeasure emanating off him. She was about to lose her job.
“Miss Watson, isn’t it? Do you make a habit of being late?”
Jilly gulped. “No, sir.” But even as she said the words, she knew they weren’t entirely true. She’d been late before. Twice, in fact. Three times, if she counted falling and injuring her ankle.
“It’s the second time you’ve been late this week,” Janice pointed out. “And it’s only Wednesday.”
Mr. Hutchings’ brow couldn’t furrow any more. “I see,” he murmured.
Jilly’s feet were rooted to the floor. She couldn’t have moved even if she had wanted to. Shame washed over her. Humiliation. She couldn’t remember ever being more embarrassed. Gone was the capable, professional adult. In her place stood a scared little girl. A little girl whose very world was falling apart around her and she was powerless to stop it.
Footsteps sounded on the carpeted floor, coming closer and closer. Familiar footsteps. Matthew. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or frightened even more. Being fired by Matthew would be even worse than being fired by Mr. Hutchings. At least she didn’t really know Mr. Hutchings. Losing her job would suck, but it would suck far more if she lost it at Matthew’s hand. Being fired by Matthew would feel like a betrayal.
He came right up to them, stood next to his uncle. He frowned too. Now she felt even smaller, with two tall, displeased men frowning down at her. Her face flamed. Nausea welled up within her. Please don’t fire me! she silently begged, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good. She’d been warned. She knew the rules.
“Ah. Miss Watson. I see you have decided to finally grace us with your presence this morning.” His voice was far friendlier than she expected it to be. But then it changed. “My office, please. Now,” he growled.
She didn’t wait to be told again. Clutching her handbag tightly to her chest, she scurried off down the corridor to his office like a dog with its tail between its legs.
Her legs trembled and her hands shook, and the closer she got to Matthew’s office, the harder her heart pounded. This was it. She was about to be fired.
Matthew held the door open for her and stood back for her to enter, then closed it firmly behind them. He strode to his desk and sat down, indicating for her to do the same.
She watched as he crossed his legs and rested his hands on his desk, his eyes not leaving hers for a second. He raised an eyebrow, a silent reminder that she had not yet obeyed his instruction. Jilly gulped. She didn’t want to obey, she didn’t want to sit down. She just wanted to get it over with. She wanted him to hurry up and fire her so she could get her stuff and go. Being made to sit and be lectured first would be horrible.
“Sit,” Matthew growled. He pointed at the chair at the same time, reiterating his order. His eyes weren’t smiling now. They were dark, flashing with something she assumed was anger.
Taking a deep breath, trying
