Her Old-Fashioned Boss Read Free Page A

shutting the door behind her. The hallway was dark, with wood paneling along the sides and deep burgundy carpet.
    “This way, sweetheart,” he told her, resting his hand on the small of her back to guide her down the hall. “Don’t worry,” Sam whispered. “His bark is worse than his bite.”
    Ava looked up at him, flushing slightly. “Sorry, I’m a bit nervous,” she told him.
    Sam winked at her. “Don’t be nervous, you’ll be fine.” He suddenly frowned down at her. “Are you okay? You’re limping.”
    “Oh, ahh, it’s okay. Just my shoes. I walked too far in them.”
    Sam gazed down at her feet but didn’t say anything as he turned, guiding her through a doorway and into a small room with a desk. There was little else in the room except for a couple of chairs beside the desk.
    A connecting door led them into a larger room. A huge, oak desk sat before her. Deep bookcases lined the walls and an old open fireplace sat empty to one side, two cracked and worn leather chairs sitting in front of it. On the opposite side, a sofa nestled in a bay window that looked out on the city.
    Ava sighed. Now this was her idea of heaven.
    Movement to her right startled her and she turned, gaping as a huge man stepped forward. Dark hair surrounded a masculine face. A firm jaw tensed as he looked her over. Ava immediately straightened, wishing she’d had time to tidy herself up. God, he’d probably already dismissed her as useless. There, she’d failed in a job interview without even opening her mouth.
    Good one, Ava.
    “Shh, calm down, honey,” Sam whispered. “Remember what I said about his bark being worse than his bite. You’ll be fine.” Then he spoke louder. “This is Ava Scott. Ava, this is Roarke and I’m Sam. Why don’t you take a seat and I’ll get something for your feet?”
    Roarke immediately frowned and Ava found herself taking a step back without even meaning to. Damn, he was intimidating. Those blue eyes seemed to see every secret, every imperfection. He wouldn’t be considered handsome, but he had an arresting look and an air of command.
    He wore a navy blue shirt tucked neatly into black pants. His dark brown hair was tidy and cut close to his head. Deep cheeks and a firm jaw only added to his masculine appeal. A shiver raced up her spine.
    “What’s wrong with her feet?” he asked Sam.
    “Too much walking,” Sam said with a shrug before leaving the room. Ava barely managed not to grab hold of him and beg him to stay. Instead, she forced her gaze back to Roarke.
    Keep calm. Be confident.
    Roarke gestured towards the chairs by the large desk. “Please, take a seat,” he said coolly. He dropped his gaze to her feet as she walked over and sat down.
    “No wonder your feet hurt. You should have worn something more sensible,” he growled.
    Ava frowned slightly, even though she’d been thinking the same thing. “But they look good.”
    Roarke snorted. “Women. What’s the point of looking good if you’re in pain? Don’t wear them again.”
    Ava stared at him; certain he had to be joking. He stared calmly back at her. “I’ll wear what I like,” she challenged, hardly believing herself. What was she doing? She was never going to wear these shoes again, they were killing her, plus they weren’t even hers. And she was trying to get this man to hire her, if he wanted her to jump around on one foot, wearing an eye patch and singing show tunes then she should do it.
    Roarke stared at her until she squirmed, dropping her gaze.
    “I won’t have you twisting an ankle while working for me. You’ll wear flats at work. What you wear in your own time is your business.”
    Ava’s head snapped up at that. He almost sounded like he was considering giving her a job.
    “Do you-do you want to see my C.V.?” she asked.
    He nodded and she handed it over, trying to still her trembling hand.
    “Settle down, I’m not that scary,” he said gently.
    “Wanna bet?” Ava slapped her hand over her