The Dare Collection January 2019. JC Harroway

her tone, I frowned.

      How could she not afford it? Last I’d heard she was earning money as a waitress and, even though waitressing wasn’t the world’s most highly paid job, there was also the allowance I continued to pay Lily. It was very generous for one person and there would certainly be enough to buy Poppy a few items for work if need be.

      So was this another lie? But no, Poppy was too obviously furious with me, which meant she hadn’t wanted to tell me.

      Interesting.

      ‘Why not?’ I kept a tight hold on her chin, trying not to be so conscious of the softness of her skin beneath my fingers and that tantalising gap in the fabric of her shirt. ‘You had a job, didn’t you?’

      She jerked her head out of my grip. ‘I’m not explaining myself to you. Just leave me the hell alone.’

      Her cheeks were flushed and it looked like shame. And part of me wanted to grab her again, force her to look at me, force her to tell me just what the hell was going on.

      But I’d been too close to her for too long already and if I remained there any longer, I’d probably do something I’d regret. Besides, what did I care that she’d spent her money? I’d promised to take care of her and her mother, and I had. They had an allowance. It wasn’t my problem if they’d spent it all. Anyway, this pointless arguing was starting to eat into my work day and I had a lot to get through.

      I straightened and forced myself back from her chair, digging in my pocket for my wallet and taking it out.

      Poppy eyed me suspiciously. ‘What are you doing now?’

      ‘I’m not having you wandering around the office looking like that. You need appropriate work clothes and you need them now. So here’s some money to buy them.’ Extracting a few notes, I held them out to her.

      For a moment she looked shocked. Then anger once again flooded her lovely face. ‘I don’t need your charity. I’ll get them—’

      ‘Be quiet,’ I snapped, my patience running out. ‘You’ll take this money and you’ll buy yourself something appropriate. And then you’ll come back and be ready for work. No more goddamn arguments.’

      Poppy opened her mouth.

      ‘Unless you don’t want that reference after all.’

      She shut it again and there was a long beat of silence where she simply stared at me, fury and a whole lot of other emotions I didn’t recognise burning like a wildfire in her eyes.

      I stared back, oddly fascinated by how those emotions moved and shifted, and how brightly they burned. Passionate woman. What did all those feelings mean? Why was she so angry? And why hadn’t she wanted to tell me she had no money?

      Why was she so angry with me all the bloody time?

       More to the point, why do you care?

      Good question.

      But I didn’t have a chance to think about it, because she shoved herself out of the chair, snatched the cash from my hand and turned without a word to the door.

      Then she stalked through it, slamming it behind her.

       CHAPTER SIX

      Poppy

      I WALKED OUT of Xander’s office quivering with rage.

      Barely looking where I was going, I strode through the crowded streets, my head full of his black gaze and my body hot and shivery from his nearness, fury burning like acid inside me.

      I hated him. I hated him.

      The day had started off badly and things had only gone downhill from there.

      First Mum had forgotten her prescription for her anti-depressants, meaning I had to go out and get them, no matter that I was going to be late for work. Then I hadn’t been able to find any proper work clothes, which I had known was going to be an issue. But I’d hoped that if Xander had a problem with them, I’d borrow some from Mum the next day.

      But of course he’d had a problem with them.

      And, even worse, he’d forced me to admit that I had no money to buy new ones.

      That alone made me furious. Admitting any kind of vulnerability to his face felt like I was exposing a weakness and I couldn’t do that, not in the presence of an enemy like him. He was both a King and a known asshole, and he’d no doubt be as ruthless when it came to taking advantage of me as he was when managing the finances for King Enterprises.

      I couldn’t afford to be weak around him. I couldn’t afford for my armour to have any weak spots at all.

      Already he’d made me feel at a disadvantage by leaning over me, putting one hand on the back of the chair, his velvety black gaze looking down into mine. Making me so aware of how close he was and how hot. Of how his broad shoulders nicely filled out his charcoal-grey suit and how the pristine white cotton of his shirt pulled across his chest, clearly outlining the hard muscle beneath it.

      The fresh scent of his cologne, like rain, had surrounded me, and I hadn’t been able to look away from the dark, mesmerising beauty of his face, at the same time hating myself for how I responded to him.

      I’d nearly gasped as he’d flicked that button off my shirt and when he’d taken my chin in his hand a part of me had melted, my skin prickling all over at the strength of his grip and the warm touch of his fingers.

      I hadn’t wanted to tell him I had no money, yet I hadn’t been able to resist him and his questions. He was so persistent, so demanding. As if he was interested enough to want the answer. As if it mattered to him.

      I’d felt it then, the same old feeling that had gripped me the moment I’d first seen him. When I’d been ten and he’d been this tall, black-eyed teenager who’d smiled at me, the only person who’d ever smiled at me apart from my dad. And something inside me had pulled tight then strained towards him like an eager puppy towards its master. I hadn’t understood the effect he’d had on me at the time; I’d only known that it had scared me. I’d just lost my father and I was hurting, struggling with the dread that somehow his suicide had been my fault. The last thing I’d wanted was an emotional connection with another person, especially when, deep down inside, I was afraid that I didn’t deserve it.

      So I’d rejected that pull, fighting it with everything I had.

      Fighting him.

      Yet that initial feeling of being drawn to him hadn’t ever gone away, and it had gripped me again in his office, the terrible urge to confide in him. To tell him all my secrets. As if a part of me knew he could take them away and take care of me the way I wanted to be taken care of.

      But I couldn’t. I’d spent too many years making sure he hated me and there was no coming back from that, so I’d fought that feeling the way I’d fought it all those years. Yet somehow his heat and his compelling gaze had got the truth out of me all the same, and now I felt like I’d made the stupidest mistake ever.

      I stormed into one of Sydney’s big department stores, part of me tempted to find some sex shop and go and buy a whole lot of rubber fetish gear with his money instead. But I needed that fucking reference, otherwise all this humiliation would have been for nothing.

      So I sorted angrily though racks of demure skirts and conservative blouses, hating everything and hating him most of all.

      I had to do something. Get him back somehow. Exploit his weakness the way he’d exploited mine, and in such a way as to not put my reference in jeopardy. Except to do that I needed to know what his weakness was and sadly I didn’t know enough about him to figure that out.

      I knew that he was the financial genius responsible for the billions he’d made with his brothers after the demise of their father’s