Coldhearted King: A Billionaire Workplace Romance (Empty Kingdom Book 1)

For more than one reason, I can’t look at Paul as I pass him. What I just did plays over and over in my mind. What I let Cole do to me. In his office. In the building I work in. With Paul sitting outside.

What the hell came over me?

This is not me. I’m the girl who puts her head down and works hard and achieves what she wants to achieve. I’m not the girl who lets her boss go down on her in his office. What is it about Cole that makes me act so out of character?

On shaky legs, I make my way back to my desk. If I thought I couldn’t concentrate before, it’s nothing compared to how scattered I am now.

Every time someone passes, I jump, imagining it’s Paul and he’s somehow found out what I did. Not that it’s any of his business anymore. Because it’s so unlike me, it feels as if any minute now, someone will point their finger at me and accuse me of reprehensible behavior.

But Paul doesn’t come. And neither does Cole. Although, why would he? He’s playing games with me. With Paul. I don’t know why. Maybe he’s bored?

The only thing I know is that this job is important to me and I’m on very shaky ground at the moment.

By forcing myself to focus on my CAD model, I make it through to the end of the day. I glimpse Paul around the office, but thankfully he doesn’t approach me. I haven’t seen Philippa at all, which isn’t that unusual since she’s only here sometimes. Regardless, it’s a relief. When five o’clock hits, I log off, grab my purse, and head out.

After getting home, I get into the shower and wait for the hot water to relax my muscles. As much as I try, I can’t stop thinking about what happened in Cole’s office. My nipples tighten, my skin sensitizes, and I groan. Why can’t I get him out of my mind? Yes, the sex I had with him was far better than anything I had with Paul afterward. And in his office this afternoon . . . Well, that was beyond anything any man has ever done to me.

But he’s still a coldhearted, arrogant asshole, even if he knows how to make my body sing.

After drying myself, I dress and head to the kitchen to make dinner. I’ve eaten, washed up, and am sitting on the couch with my laptop when a key turns in the lock and Alex comes in.

“How was work?” she asks, walking over, bending down, and giving me a hug. “Did you see Paul?”

“He was waiting for me at my desk when I showed up.”

She scowls. “The asshole. He was never interested in giving you what you needed.”

I throw her a grateful smile. “I told him to leave me alone, and he did.”

“So that was the last you saw of him?”

I bite my lip. “Well . . . I saw him outside Cole’s office in the afternoon.”

Her brows shoot up. “What were you both doing outside Cole’s office?”

Heat flares across my cheeks.

“What did you do, Dee?”

“I just went to apologize for what I said to him Friday night, and to thank him for telling me about Paul.”

“Okay, so what happened? Obviously, something did. Otherwise your face wouldn’t be as red as a tomato.”

I cover my face with my hands. “He went down on me. While Paul was outside waiting to meet with him.”

I drop my hands to see Alex’s mouth hanging open. “Are you serious?”

I nod, not sure whether to laugh or cry.

A huge grin spreads across her face, and she barks out a laugh. “I hate to say it, but I like the guy’s style. Paul deserves it, the selfish asshole.” Then she notices my face. “What’s wrong? You can’t tell me you feel bad for him?”

“No. I almost feel bad because I don’t feel bad about it.”

“Good. I hope you strutted past him on your way out.”

My lips twitch up in a smile, but it soon fades. “I think it was the most unprofessional thing I’ve ever done. I don’t know how I’m going to face Cole again.”

Alex sits down next to me. “Who instigated it?”

“He did.”

Alex nods. “Do you think Cole is wasting any time worrying about whether he acted professionally? Do you think he’s sitting at home right now, worrying about facing you tomorrow?”

“Probably not.”

“Not a chance in hell, actually. The man’s probably jerking off and planning what he’ll do to you the next time he gets you in his office.”

“There won’t be a next time. He even said it was just a revenge thing.”

Alex tips her head to the side and smirks. “Ah, my poor, naïve friend. You actually believe Cole went down on you out of the goodness of his heart? Because he’s some kind of sexual good Samaritan?”

I snort out a laugh.

“No, my dear. That man’s probably been dying to get another taste of you since you walked back into his life.”

“You mean after he stopped believing I’d only slept with him to gain an advantage with our proposal?”

“Well, yes, after that. But he obviously wants you. And if I were you, I’d take advantage of it. Next time he gets you alone, tell him you want the full meal, not just the appetizer.”

“I honestly don’t think that’s going to happen. He has access to the most beautiful women in New York. Why would he risk a secret workplace hookup with me?”

“You doubt yourself too much, Dee. And any man who doesn’t think you’re worth the risk is a fool you don’t want to be around anyway.” Her voice softens. “Don’t let the assholes in this world impact your opinion of yourself, okay?”

I give her a grateful smile, knowing she’s not just referring to Paul. A few months after we moved in together, I confided in her about my father—small-town royalty, whose family company owned most of the businesses in town. Mom fell for him, believing he felt the same way about her, until a faulty condom proved otherwise. He walked away, telling her she’d been fun, but he didn’t want a kid, especially with someone he was “slumming it” with. Not that Mom said it quite that way, but it wasn’t hard to read between the lines.

He rejected her and me, then went on to marry a woman from an equally wealthy family and have two sons—half-brothers I doubt even know I exist.

Not that I care about my father. After all, why would I want anything to do with a man who would leave an eighteen-year-old girl to raise his baby all on her own? At least, that’s what I told myself when I was growing up. But every now and then, when I saw how tired Mom was and how hard she worked to provide for me, I wondered why he hadn’t wanted us.

Alex’s voice snaps me back to the present. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what happens, but I bet Cole will call you to his office first thing tomorrow for a repeat performance.”

I shake my head, but Alex just grins and walks away. I look down at the schematic on my screen, but my mind isn’t on work right now. Could Alex be right about Cole? And if she is, what exactly will I do about it?

The next day at my desk, my pulse leaps at every email notification, every ring of my phone. I half expect to be summoned to Cole’s office, and I’m not sure if I’m dreading it or anticipating it. I get a few emails from Paul, including one letting me know the King Group has nominated our concepts for the H+ Architectural Design Awards, which, even with my current emotional turmoil, has me feeling a swift rush of pride. His correspondence has been completely impersonal and related to the project, so he must have finally accepted that I’m not interested in anything he has to say.

When the end of the day arrives and I haven’t heard or seen anything from Cole, a chaotic mix of emotions swirls inside me. Apparently, Alex was wrong. I should be happy about it, so why does disappointment sit like a lead weight in my chest?

That evening, when Alex gets back from teaching her classes, she asks me what happened at the office. When I tell her nothing, her face falls. Then she says he probably doesn’t want to appear too eager, and she’s sure he’ll come looking for me tomorrow.

But she’s wrong again.

I don’t see him or hear from him all week. By the time our Friday team meeting rolls around, I don’t know if I’ll even be able to look him in the eye. I’m embarrassed, angry, and—stupidly—hurt. I let Alex’s words get to me, and now I’m questioning if that’s because a part of me wants Cole to want me.

When I walk into the conference room for the meeting, I keep my eyes away from the man sitting at the end of the table, determined to conceal how much his radio silence has bothered me. I sit as far from Paul as I can, noticing Philippa’s absence once more—she hasn’t been here all week, much to my relief—and open my notebook, pretending to jot notes until he starts the meeting.

My eyes jerk toward him when he finally starts talking, because it’s not Cole’s voice. The man addressing us is Cole’s brother, Tate.

“Good afternoon, everyone. Cole has asked me to take today’s meeting since he’s unable to attend. We’ll proceed the same way you usually do, beginning with a rundown of your individual projects. We’ll start with you, uh . . .” He looks down at his notes. “Robert.”

I’m distracted while Robert speaks. Where is Cole? Surely he’s not avoiding me. I can’t imagine a man like Cole would ever stoop to avoiding a woman, especially since he probably hasn’t spared a thought for what happened in his office on Monday at all.

I release a quiet breath. I’m thinking about this way too much, which is just a sign that I should never have let that happen. It’s messing with my head and making me lose track of my priorities.

By the time Tate gets around to me, I’ve pulled myself together and I give a clear, concise report. Tate nods, his eyes lingering on me longer than comfortable. I squirm internally under his scrutiny. Is it possible he knows something?

He finally continues, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

I need to put Cole out of my mind. What happened was an aberration, and nothing else is going to happen between us. Alex was wrong, and I’m happy about that because now I can move on and forget it.

After leaving the meeting, I return to my desk and finish the plan I’ve been working on. I stay a little later to apply finishing touches so I can move to the next one on Monday.

It’s dark by the time I finish, and I hurry out of the almost empty office, eager to get home and switch my mind off for the weekend. As I exit the elevator into the foyer, my feet stutter to a stop. Cole and his brothers are standing outside the expansive glass doors, all three of them dressed in tuxedos, obviously preparing to attend some kind of formal event.

A lump forms in my throat, and my resolution to forget what happened comes crashing down. Cole made no effort to see or talk to me this week and he didn’t come to our meeting today, but he’s available to attend some party or other with his brothers.

I’m such a fool. For all my protestations to Alex—and to myself—I’d convinced myself that Cole’s actions meant something when they obviously didn’t. For all I know, he puts his tongue in women on a daily basis.

I hover away from the glass doors, waiting for them to leave—too embarrassed to walk out and see him, particularly with his brothers around. A black limo pulls up and the three of them get in. Cole climbs in last, and as he turns, he looks back into the building, his gaze colliding with mine.

I flinch, humiliated he’s seen me lurking here, obviously watching him. His eyes bore into me for a second before the driver swings the door shut, severing our connection.

I swallow hard as the big black car pulls away, my cheeks burning and tears pricking the backs of my eyes. This last week has been one of the worst of my life. First Paul and Philippa, then Cole. I just want to go home and pour myself a glass—or several—of wine and forget the last seven days ever happened.