The Position Read Online Free Page B

drops. His skin is tan and smooth over the strong, prominent pecks, the rippling abs, and defined musculature of his shoulders. My fingers twitch, overwhelmed with a desire to touch him. I want it so much I can almost feel the heat of his skin beneath my hands.  
    That’s when I realize he’s watching me with a half smile on his face. His eyes twinkle with mischief. He’s doing it on purpose. Enjoying it. Our eyes lock and I can feel the electricity power through me. Then he slips on the clean shirt and quietly buttons it, not taking his eyes off me once. He closes the trunk and gives me a wink.  
    “Well,” he says, still smiling. “Back to work.”

Chapter Six

    When we arrive back at the office, I tell Lazarus I’m going to freshen up, and duck into the bathroom. My ribs hurt around where I was kicked and my head is spinning with fatigue. When I look at my reflection, I’m surprised to see that I actually look okay. There’s a bit of mascara under my eyes and the tears have left my cheeks flushed. But the loose strands of hair that have fallen around my face are kind of sexy and my green eyes are strikingly bright behind my rimless glasses.  
    I wipe under my eyes and freshen up my lipstick. Then I realize that my clothes are a mess. The cords are caked with oil and mud and the blouse is smeared with dirt. Fortunately, homeless chicks like me always travel with a change of clothes. I dig through my bag and find a relatively unwrinkled black skirt and a purple silk blouse. The skirt is form fitting and the silk blouse accentuates my boobs. So much for going back to Frumpsville. I trade out the boots for a pair of pumps and head back to the office.  
    When I walk through the door, Lazarus is standing beside the enormous window talking with Celestina. Her black bob has been parted on the side and falls partially over one of her eyes. She’s wearing a pair of black jeans that flare at the bottom, a long brown leather coat, and high heeled boots. She’s stunning.  
    But when she sees me, her mouth opens in surprise. Her body stiffens and her eyes sear into me. For a moment she doesn’t speak or move. She just rakes her eyes over me like claws.  
    “Jude.” She says his name like a condemnation.  
    He turns to see what she’s staring at. Even though he plays it cool, I can see the uneasiness in his eyes. Celestina has never seen the new and improved me. Her eyes never leave me. I can almost feel them burning through me.  
    “Who is this?” she hisses with her Spanish accent.  
    Lazarus frowns. “Michaela,” he affirms. “My assistant. You’ve already met her. And she’s right here. There’s no need to talk about her in the third person.”
    Celestina’s expression darkens further. “This is not the assistant that I met.”  
    “Yes,” Lazarus says sternly, though I can see the sweat glisten on his upper lip. “She’s the same one. Eva had a talk with her about being…you know… more physically…sartorially…aligned with our… brand.”
    She gives him a withering look. “I have no idea of all these words. And so they are probably the bullshit.”  
    “It doesn’t matter,” Lazarus grumbles. “Eva gave her a hard time about her clothes, that’s all. Fortunately, Michaela is a good sport.”  
    I almost wince when he says that. That’s not going to make her happy. And it doesn’t. Celestina narrows her eyes. Her lips press tightly together and I can hear her exhale from across the room, like a fire-breathing dragon. “Is she?”
    Lazarus sighs and gives me a pointed look. “You can go to your office now, Michaela,” he says curtly.  
    I nod and hurry to my little hovel, wishing like hell it had a door to close. But it doesn’t matter in the end. Celestina turns on her boot heel and storms out. Lazarus goes after her. Such a cliché. On one hand I feel bad for Celestina, who probably suspects the truth—that Lazarus’s appetites are less than under control. But she’s