All night long, I ran scenarios through my head of what it would be like to see him today. I have loads of fiery dialogue just waiting to assault him the moment that cocky mouth of his opens and he says one cross thing to me.
The soft ding of the elevator stopping on this otherwise quiet floor catches my attention. I practically leap out of my seat, not wanting to be in a position to be talked down to if it is Alexander.
It’s only seven. Most of the employees don’t start rolling in for at least another forty-five minutes, but I know that Alexander is always the first one at the office every morning.
I hold my breath as I hear heavy footsteps head in my direction.
Our gazes meet as soon as he rounds the corner and turns into my office. He’s always so put together, and today is no different as he waltzes toward my desk in his perfectly pressed black suit. I stare into Alexander’s gray eyes, ready to begin our verbal sparring match, but I never get the chance to say a word. He turns without so much as a word to me and storms into his adjoining office, slamming the door shut behind him in the process.
My mouth drops open. So much for my thought-out plan of attack.
I plop down in my chair and do my best to pretend the man, who is now my husband, isn’t on the other side of that door, avoiding me at all costs.
Asshole.
I flip off the door but refuse to go chasing after him to demand answers. If he wants to play ‘let’s pretend last weekend never happened,’ then so be it.
Game on.
He will not control my thoughts any longer. I won’t allow it because I’ve done nothing but obsess about him since I arrived back in New York. If I haven’t been daydreaming about the way his hands felt on me, then figuring out a way to take him down has consumed me. I wish he weren't such a fantastic lover. Maybe then, I could jerk my head out of the fucking clouds and stop thinking about Alexander King in toe-curling sexual positions.
I sigh and check the clock on my computer screen. It’s nearly twelve, and there still hasn’t been a peep out of Alexander. Not even for his coffee—which is odd since he always seems to take great pleasure in having me fetch on his command.
I’ll be damned if I break the little silence game we have going on between us. I refuse to allow him to believe he has an inch of power over me. I still want him to think I’m ready to stick it to him at any moment for not having a prenup in place before he married me.
I return my attention back to the statistical figures for King Enterprises that I’ve been able to get my hands on. All morning, I’ve been looking for traces of unethical practices that can help me in my pursuit to take Alexander King down with a bit of blackmail. Unfortunately for me, nothing of use has turned up. To my surprise, this company seems to do everything by the book.
The phone on my desk rings, and I snatch it off my desk the moment Alexander’s name flashes across the caller ID. “Yes, Mr. King. Is there something I can do for you?”
“I need a car brought around in exactly fifteen minutes,” he orders without as much as a greeting.
I don’t appreciate the bossy tone in his voice, so I decide to throw a little dig of my own at him. “Of course, sir. Is there anything else you need from me? Your messages, coffee, divorce papers? Oh, wait, I forgot that we need to tie up many loose ends before we close that deal.”
The last one has me biting my lip to hold back a snicker. I don’t even have to see the expression on his face to know that one has him seething.
“Margo . . .” he says my name with a warning, but I’ve decided I need to keep going—keep pushing his buttons.
“Do I detect some anger? Is that any way to speak to your wife? We are still in that newlywed phase, after all.”
“Margo,” he growls. “Get your ass in this office so we can discuss this matter privately. We don’t need the entire fucking office knowing our goddamn business.”
I raise my eyebrows while a smirk crosses my face. “No need to get touchy. I—”
Click.
Before I can throw out anything else, Alexander stops me in my tracks by hanging up.
The smile still rests on my face as I push myself up from my desk. I like the idea of having this egotistical man by the balls. His reputation of dicking women over precedes him in this city, so I love the idea that I’ve one-upped this man.
Now all I have to do is march in there and keep up this bitch persona. The only chance I have of keeping him at bay is to continue to piss him off. If he despises me, then he’ll stay on the other side of that desk and not attempt to use those magical hands on me. Lord knows, if he touches me, I’ll lose all self-control, and I cannot allow that to happen. This is my one shot at forcing Alexander King into not taking over my father’s company. It’s also one of my last chances to put distance between the two of us and regain control of my heart before it falls for this wicked man.
Alexander
I ADJUST MY TIE FOR the third time and take a deep breath, readying myself to enter into battle with Margo. I hadn’t planned her to be here early this morning, so when I walked in and saw her sitting at her desk, I froze and not one damn word would come out of my mouth. I figured silence was best until I could figure out a way to convince her of my plan. I spent some time last night figuring out how I could spin this situation to make me look good to the board.
The door swings open, and I lean back in my chair and steeple my fingers in front of me. If I’ve learned one thing about Margo, it’s that she’s a shark like me. Any sign of a little blood and she’ll attack, so it’s best to put on a good front and pretend that I’m not the least bit rattled.