We’d just reached the door to her office when she stopped and looked up at me, eyes slightly narrowed.

“Pardon?”

“You’ve been telling Annie she needs to dress differently. More sexy, or whatever the fuck, and I don’t like it. You don’t have to remind me that she’s incredibly intelligent and amazing at her job, and you don’t need to capitalize on her beauty just to make clients more amenable. It’s sexism in the workplace, pure and simple.”

Joan blinked at me, was silent for a beat, and then let out a yip of laughter. “First of all, I would never mandate that my employees dress ‘more sexy,’ as you state. That would be highly inappropriate. I reminded Annie that we have a dress code and then saved her the time of having to shop for it by purchasing a wardrobe for her. All the outfits are stylish, tasteful, business casual, and high quality. Nothing about Annie’s new clothes is meant to tantalize, Mr. Fitzpatrick.”

I scoffed, curling my lip, my disbelief of this last bit plain on my face.

Still, Joan continued, “I’m very fond of that girl, but she’s been living in a shell; and I’m just doing my bit to help her out of it. So if you feel the need to protect her, you have nothing to fear from me. I want to protect her just as much as you, if not more so.”

Well, that put me in my place. I didn’t know what to say right then, so I simply furrowed my brow, cleared my throat, and gave her a gruff, “It’s good we’re on the same page, then.”

“Yes, very good,” said Joan, opening the door to her office and walking in. “Until next we meet, Mr. Fitzpatrick.”

Turning on my heel, I went in search of Annie’s office and found her drinking a cup of tea and chatting quietly with her assistant, Gerta. I stood in the doorway for a moment, watching her as she set the tea down, then bent to open a drawer, and fished out some folders. I might have been a little mesmerized for a moment as I took in the sight of her shapely backside. It was incredible. I just wanted spank it and bite it and worship it and completely fucking defile it.

Gerta was the one to see me first, smiling at me wide and friendly. “Oh, Ronan, I didn’t see you there. Is there anything we can help you with?”

Gerta and I had become well acquainted over the phone after I made a point to apologize for jerking her around last week, thus the familiarity of her addressing me by my first name. In fact, I’d been purposefully using charm to win her over. I needed her on my side in the Annie v. Ronan phone-call-avoiding wars. Annie quickly stood and spun around, looking a little frazzled as she tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear.

“Yes, I was actually wondering if I could have a moment alone with your boss,” I said, eyes leveled on Annie.

“Of course,” Gerta began, getting up from her seat, but Annie stayed her with a hand.

“It’s okay, Gerta. I was just about to head home anyway. Mr. Fitzpatrick can walk me out.”

The way she emphasized addressing me formally made me want to grin. I thought that maybe, just maybe, my Annie was getting a touch territorial and didn’t like the camaraderie Gerta and I had struck up.

She stuffed the files in her handbag, slung it over her shoulder, and led the way out of the office. All the way to the elevators, she kept at least a foot of space between us. It made my inner predator growl with satisfaction to know she felt the need to distance herself for fear of what might happen. I prayed for an empty lift, and someone answered that prayer because when we stepped inside, there was no one else. I stood close beside her as she hit the button for the ground floor.

“So, looks like we’ll be spending a lot more time together, baby.” I grinned and tilted my head down at her.

She scrunched up her face. “Don’t call me that.”

“What?” I winked. “We’re a couple now. Couples give each other all sorts of nicknames.”

“Not all couples do that. And if you’ve forgotten, we’re a fake couple, so there’s no need for nicknames.”

She was all stoic and together now, nothing like the Annie of this morning. The one who snorted and laughed with me, the one who made my heart stop when she smiled.

“Damn, I was looking forward to your calling me puddinchops,” I joked, trying to break down her barrier. It worked a little because I saw her lips twitch in a smile.

“Christ, that’s awful,” she replied with a little shudder.

I nudged her with my shoulder. “What would you suggest, then?”

“I already told you that I quite like Mother Fitzpatrick,” she reluctantly teased.

“Oh, fuck no. That’s not happening,” I said and let my voice drop as I moved closer so that our arms were touching. “Though I won’t object to your calling me Daddy.”

Her eyes got really big then, and I burst out laughing. “I’m joking, Annie; relax. I’m joking.”

We were stepping out of the lift when she exhaled, “Thank God.”

“I know.” I chuckled. “I think I might have even creeped myself out with that one.”

When she looked at me then, there was a smile on her lips, and I thought I saw genuine fondness in her eyes. Beyond the lobby, I could see that the streets were absolutely crowded, and I remembered it was St. Patrick’s Day. I wasn’t crazy about crowds, and when I saw Annie looking nervous, I could tell that she liked them even less than I did.

Placing a hand on her lower back, I said, “Hey, I was thinking of taking a drive today. Get out of the city until all the festivities are over. You want to come?”