Scandalous Games (Arranged Games Book 1)

I hired him.

The second he left after all but promising he won’t leave me alone and daring me at the same time, I sent him a text, aware I was giving away my new number. Maybe it was his plan all along. But I have an agenda.

I’m going to show his arrogant ass that I don’t want him anymore. So maybe I’ll have to torture myself by working closely with him and drown in his rich and intoxicating scent that still drives me wild. In the end when I prove him wrong, it’ll be worth it.

My concentration disturbed, I grab my purse and walk out of my office after locking the door. I’m a bundle of mixed emotions, each fighting to rise to the top as I take the elevator. When I exit through the lobby, Shammi’s head snaps up and his gaze widens in bewilderment.

Am I dreaming or are you leaving early, Bianca?”

I laugh at his teasing joke and smirk. “Yes. I like to keep you on your toes, old man.”

“That you do.”

“Good night, Shammi.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Miss Chopra.”

I shake my head. It seems I only attract stubborn men in my life. My eyes scan the still crowded parking lot for signs of Dash and hate when disappointment flares.

Don’t fall into old habits, Bianca, I remind myself.

The drive back to my apartment is spent second-guessing my decision of hiring him. I’m even more shocked he accepted it. I might be the first woman in the world who has a billionaire working as her assistant.

Suddenly, many ideas pop inside my head with ways in which I can make his life hell. Fetching coffee and food, running errands like my laundry, and, the best, photocopying using the printer in my office, which is absolute shit. I have lost count of how many times I’ve kicked it in frustration and gave up on it.

Yeah. That’s going to be his first task tomorrow.

Half an hour later, I’m riding up the elevator to my floor and when I jump out, I frown at seeing the empty apartment opposite mine with the door left open and surrounded by boxes. Excitement builds at having a neighbor. There are a total of four apartments on my floor and two are occupied by an old couple and another girl, who I hardly see. Maybe the new one will be different. I could cook and welcome them with brownies. I might buy them, since cooking only leads to a hurricane in the kitchen.

I decide to say hi and hurry down the hallway. My feet skid to a halt when two muscular arms appear to pick up one of the large boxes and I catch a glimpse of the closely cropped head of hair before it disappears.

Stomping down the rest of the way, I round the corner and peer at my ex-husband and heartbreaker moving across from me, looking right at home. My traitorous gaze draws to the naked back muscles—which look like a work of art, meant to be sketched on a canvas—flexing deliciously. They disappear into the waistband of his denim jeans he wore earlier.

“Have you changed your profession to a stalker now?”

As though he was waiting for me—of course he was—he takes his sweet-ass time turning around. I bite my lip, drooling at the sight of his triceps as he pushes the big box easily onto the long kitchen island. A sheen of sweat glistens on his chest and those damn abs clench, making my neglected pussy perk at being in the same vicinity as him.

“Is that how you welcome your new neighbor?” he teases.

“Not unless they’re a stalker.”

“A stalker you hired as your assistant.”

Smart-ass. “Move out.”

“Already signed the lease.” He shrugs.

I pray for patience while cursing at myself for still being attracted to this infuriating man. “You know what, I’ll complain to my landlord that I don’t want you as my neighbor.”

I’m actually good friends with him so I know it could work. He has a crush on me, so maybe I could work that in my favor. I’m going to play dirty if Dash is too. I smugly stare at him but it falters when he crosses the distance until he’s towering over me. Goosebumps prick my skin and his gaze caresses them like a wind.

“Okay,” he murmurs, not the least bit worried at my threat. “In fact, we can discuss it now. Save you the trouble of writing an application.”

“What?” I ask, confused, but when he arches one perfect eyebrow and waits, my jaw drops. “You did not just buy another apartment complex…”

His lips tug into a boyish grin at my reaction. Is he insane?

“You can’t keep buying every damn building I live in, Dash.”

“I like to invest in real estate.” Giving a flirtatious smile that makes my insides sing, he says, “So want a tour, kitten?”

“Never, stalker.” I whirl around and walk up to my door.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of being alone with me, kitten?”

My hand dropping halfway to my lock, I sharply twist to face him and answer, “I am.”

He freezes and all traces of amusement vanish from his face.

“I’m scared that every word out of your mouth is another lie. I’m scared you’ll destroy me again if I spend so much as a second alone with you. I’m scared to trust you. But what I’m most afraid of is that I still can’t hate you as much as I wish to. That I can’t erase you from my memory.”

I don’t wait around for his reaction and enter my apartment, knowing my nightmare that I kept at bay now awaits me. That all these months of progress and the bubble I created where he didn’t exist just went up in flames.

***

The next morning, he’s waiting for me at my door, dressed in another pair of fitted denims and a dark green button-down that complements his beautiful eyes.

“Morning, kitten,” he greets me, before taking in my purple summer dress that I paired with sandals. I’m flushed by the time his eyes return to my face, burning with a heat that makes my toes curl. I’m almost disappointed when he doesn’t whisper something filthy or pull me close. As if he can read my naughty thoughts, his mouth twitches.

“Drive with me?”

“No, thank you.” I saunter toward the elevator. He follows closely.

“We could save gas.”

“Since when do you care about the environment?”

“Any reason that gives me a chance to be with you is important to me.”

So he hasn’t lost his smooth talking skills. Good for him. I ignore his remark when he reaches the elevator and we step inside. Our fingers touch when we go for the button at the same time and a zap goes straight to my clit.

Electricity cackles between us and I finally find one thing I hate about my building. The elevator is too compact and it only constricts when people enter from the next floor, pushing my back against his hard chest.

My eyelids fall close at the contact and when I try to move forward, both his arms lock around my waist and trap me between his thighs. I can feel his thick and hard cock digging into my lower back.

Deprived of any sexual touch, especially his, since I left him, every nerve ending in my body lights up and I all but forget I’m supposed to be resisting him. The feel of him turned on because of one small touch has me grinding my ass against his dick. We’re in the corner in the back, with no one paying attention to us, which makes me feel bold.

I slow grind once and before a moan can slip out, one of his hands travels lightning fast and covers my mouth, swallowing the sound.

His breath teases my ear as he bends and growls, “Behave.”

The one domineering word throws a bucket of cold water all over my arousal. Once I’m aware of my momentary lapse in judgment, I go still. Thankfully, the elevator stops and people step out. My panic recedes.

Damn it. I fucked up by hiring him.

“Don’t,” he warns, caging me in and staring down at me. “Don’t fight us. Hate me, curse at me, fight with me, but don’t ever pull away from me, kitten.” His voice turns thick with emotion when he says the last part. The desperation and fear creeping in his tone makes me pause.

I don’t owe him anything but the vulnerability has me whispering, “Okay.”

His eyes drop close as he exhales roughly. When they open, some of the anxiety eases. “I know I broke your trust and I don’t expect you to forgive me so easily or anytime soon. So put me through hell, make me beg, and take all the time you need, but please come back to me. I’ve been lost, only drifting aimlessly since you left. I don’t want to feel lost again.”

“What if I can never forgive you?”

“The day we married, you became mine for seven lifetimes, kitten,” he murmurs, running his knuckle down my cheek. “So I have all the time in the world.”

The conviction and promise in his tone causes the first crack in the walls around my heart. Now, I’m not sure who will prove the other wrong but one thing is certain… he’s a step ahead.