The Intern (The Dalton Family #4)(48)

“It’s too intimate,” I blurted out. “It’s just not something I do.”

That was a lie.

Hannah had been the exception.

Of course, she didn’t remember.

Thank fucking God.

“You mean, you’ve never put your lips on a woman’s mouth? And there’s no exception to that?”

She looked confused.

I didn’t know why.

What I had said was simple to understand.

“No exceptions. Not ever.”

“Not even with me?”

I drained the rest of my scotch. “What would make you think you were any different, Hannah?” I checked Dominick’s placement, and he was still standing at the bar. “Because you’re a Dalton? My intern? Because you happen to be more than just a pretty face?” I paused. “None of that earns you a pass.”

It was like a bee had landed on her arm and stung her, the pain in her face getting sharper by the second.

“You’re nothing to me. Just another number.”

I wanted her angry.

Disgusted.

I wanted to make sure she stayed the fuck away from me.

I wanted to be the most hated man in her world.

“I see.” She huffed out an exhale of air. “I just wish I had known you were this much of an asshole before I made the biggest mistake of my life.”

“That’s why they’re called mistakes, Hannah.” I lowered my voice, almost roaring, “They’re things we learn from.”

Dominick could see through me, but I had the same capabilities when it came to Hannah.

I didn’t believe a thing she was saying because, even now, as she stared at me with a cuff of betrayal wrapped around her throat, I could see how badly she wanted me. How she would do anything to have me fucking her pussy again.

“They’re things we never do again … like coming a fourth time against the window in the conference room.”

I’d slipped in the reminder, just to see if there was a change in her eyes.

The flame was there.

One that smoldered as low as her cheeks before she made it disappear.

I leaned into her ear, watching her chest freeze, hearing her breath hitch. “How many days were you sore? Can you still feel me, or is that ache long gone?”

God, I was a mean motherfucker.

She pulled away, putting several inches between us.

But that didn’t stop me from saying, “What a feeling it must be to know you’ve had the best and there isn’t another man out there who will ever make you feel like me.”

She shook her head. “You’re vile and so full of yourself.”

“And?”

“And I’m repulsed by you.”

I smiled. “Good. Then, we can both agree that we just need to survive this internship. You stay the fuck out of my hair, out of my office, and off my tip.” I pushed my back against the seat, grabbing her dirty martini and shooting back what was left of it. “Do we have an understanding?”

“Oh”—she ground her teeth together—“we absolutely do.”





FOURTEEN





HANNAH





“I appreciate you coming over to babysit tonight,” Ford said as I sifted flour into a huge bowl.

Little Miss Eve was standing next to me, kneeling on a stool, holding a wooden spoon, ready to mix the food dye I was going to drop in next.

Not only were we dyeing the vanilla-based cupcakes pink, but we were also going to decorate them with rainbow frosting.

I planned to eat at least a dozen, so I’d tripled the normal recipe—that way, they’d have leftovers.

“Yeah, well, I appreciate that you hired a nanny,” I replied, glancing up from the bowl.

Watching Eve was oftentimes one of the best parts of my day, but I just couldn’t do it anymore. I needed to dedicate the hours I spent here to school and bar prep. Even though I still didn’t require as much sleep, the tiredness was beginning to creep in.

“Pink!” Eve shouted as I swirled in the dye. “Whoa, it’s sooo pretty.” She dipped her finger into the bowl and quickly licked the batter before I could stop her. “Mmm. Vanilla.” She swallowed. “Daddy, Hannah even got pink sprinkles. It’s gonna be a pink explosion.”

“Hannah spoils you, you lucky girl.” He kissed the top of her head. “Baby, I need you to do something before I leave.”

“Daddy, I’m very busy right now.”

I hid my laugh.

I swore she took after me, not her father.

“This isn’t negotiable,” he told her.

She stomped her knees on the stool in response.

“I need you to go pick up your room. When I walked by a few minutes ago, your books and stuffed animals were everywhere. It’s your job to clean it up, not Hannah’s or mine.”

“But, Daddy—”

He pointed to the ceiling. “March those buns upstairs now, please.”

When she looked at me with melancholy eyes, I said, “Don’t worry, bestie. I’m not going to bake these cupcakes without you. The second you’re done, we’ll pick up right where we left off. Okay?”

“Okaaay.” She stuck out her hand. “But pinkie promise.”