Finnegan
I whipped around at the sound of the door slamming open. Abigail stood in the doorway of my study with her eyes flashing with a mix of hurt and fire.
Her cheeks were flushed and her chest heaved against the thin silk of her blouse and the little shorts she had on left her long legs on full display.
The sight of her all alive and fierce sent a jolt straight to my gut. I quickly ended the HR call with a curt
"We'll continue this later" and set the phone down.
"You should be resting." I crossed the room toward her with my eyes narrowing with worry.
"The doctor said—"
"I am good at my job," she cut in, stepping closer with her chin lifted defiantly. "You're already interviewing for new assistants? You're replacing me?"
I sighed and pulled her into my arms. Her body was warm and soft against mine and fit into the hard planes of my chest like she was carved to belong there.
