The Billionaire's Intern

She blinked. “I guess it depends on how long the list is.”

“This is not a joke, Addison, and if you think it is perhaps you should leave now.”

“I didn’t mean it as a joke. I want to do well for you. I want to do this.” For one fleeting moment the expression on her face changed a ripple of fear disturbing the stillness. But it only lasted a moment. Even so, the slight burn of triumph he felt at having unsettled her lingered long after the distress had faded from her features.

It was the first sign of weakness she’d betrayed, and for him, knowing the weaknesses of everyone around him was essential.

That had been one of his very first lessons on the island. You could be predator or prey. You could hunt or be hunted. He had chosen to hunt. And even now that he was back, it was the way he chose to live.

It occurred to him now that this was why Addison’s serenity had bothered him so much. It had made it difficult to find her vulnerability, her weakness. But he saw it now. She was afraid to lose this. And now that he knew the fear was there, he can use it.

“You’re afraid to leave,” he said.

She tilted her chin up, expression of defiance. “Not afraid,” she said. “But I would like to avoid getting harassed by the press.”

“And you’ll be safe from them here. But if you want to stay, you will follow the rules.”

Her eyes met his, her blue gaze cool. “Are you trying to intimidate me?” She stood from behind the desk, her movements smooth. “Because you realize that I spent almost all of my life sharing a residence with Jason Treffen? I get the point you’re pretty scary, Logan. But my dad was one of the bad guys.”

“Be careful, Addison,” he said, moving toward her. As he drew closer to her he felt the air thicken, could see that she felt it too, that she was struggling to pull in breath. How poetic. If it wasn’t so macabre he could have laughed. “Just because you’ve looked into the darkness doesn’t mean you’ve seen everything that’s hiding there.” As he drew closer, she tensed, her lips parting, the action sending a slug of desire down to his gut. “Just because I’m not one of bad guys doesn’t mean I’m one of the good guys.”

Chapter Four

Addison woke up with the sheets tangled around her legs, sweat making them stick to her skin. That was when she realized she was naked. She must have stripped her clothes off in her sleep. She’d been doing that lately. As her nightmares worsened, heat and the fires of hell closing in, she started removing layers.

She opened her eyes and looked around. The room was unfamiliar and for a second she was seized by pure terror, making her freeze, turning her breath into a solid ball that rested in the center of her chest.

The thoughts that raced through her head, fears that had been gnawing at her for weeks, flashed bright and fast. Had she been sold? One of her father’s men? Was someone going assault her?

And in a split second, the fog cleared. And she realized where she was.

Logan’s hotel. Where she was staying for her internship. Logan’s hotel that was safe. Well, assuming the man himself was safe.

She wasn’t certain yet that she could assume that. At this point in her life she didn’t think she could assume anything.

She started shaking, her entire body trembling as she extracted herself from her sheets and padded toward the shower, letting the hot spray wash the sweat and stale terror from her skin.

She performed the rest of her routine like a zombie. Applying makeup thoughtlessly, with a practiced skill her mother had helped her hone from the time she was thirteen. It was a necessary ingredient, as far as her mother was concerned, in the creation of a perfect veneer. And in the Treffen world, veneer was everything. If only she’d learned a little more about dealing with things beneath the surface. Beneath the polished outer shell she felt vulnerable. She’d spent far too long bolstering up the outside, letting the inside grow weak. Pale.

She pinned her blond hair back into a low bun, not bothering with a flatiron before slipping her skirt up over her hips, along with a pair of black nylons that had a seam running down the back.

She added a pair of black pumps and examined her reflection in the full-length mirror. It was a bit…flashier than typical intern wear, at least flashier than she imagined intern wear to be. Not something she would have worn to classes either. This was what she might wear to a luncheon. An outfit that would help her fit in, while simultaneously allowing her to stand out a bit. It was the hallmark of Socialite Addison. And she needed a little Socialite Addison.

Perhaps because Socialite Addison was by far the most confident Addison.

And confidence would be required today. Since she seemed to lack any at night. She hated how afraid she’d become. All the time.

It was as Logan had said. Suddenly, life had consequences. Life had weight, where before it had been…

It had been a game in so many ways. Not now.

She cleared her throat and grabbed her purse off the nightstand, checking her email as she walked down the hall. Still nothing from Harlow. Which was strange.

She paused for a second and pulled up her friend’s phone number, deciding to go ahead and give her a call, even though she wasn’t entirely certain of what time it was in Europe.

The phone went straight to a standard message. A recorded, robotic female voice saying that the number she’d dialed was no longer in service.

Addison swallowed hard and lowered the phone, her hands shaking a little. Possible still, in part due to her dream. And possibly because of the message.

Because all of it seemed wrong. And right now everything felt random and uncertain. She didn’t trust life at all.

Addison let out a sharp breath and shook her head, closing her eyes briefly before walking on and to Logan’s office. It hit her then she wasn’t sure if they were staying here today or going out. That she wasn’t sure if he went out at all.

She had no way to predict her new boss’s eccentricities. He was an enigma, and that was the last thing she’d been expecting when Austin told her she was coming to work for Logan Black.

Yes, she’d seen the headlines. What’s wrong with Logan Black? But she still hadn’t known what to expect. She still didn’t.

She knocked on the office door and didn’t get an answer. She pushed it open and looked inside. Empty. Well, great. Where was she supposed to meet him? Had he gone to his corporate office? And had she been meant to guess that?

She let out an exasperated sigh and stood in the middle of the room for a moment, tapping her foot. Then she walked to the desk and dialed a zero to get the front desk. A chipper, professional woman answered.

“Hi,” Addison said. “This is Addison Treffen, Mr. Black’s new assistant.” She was an intern, but assistant sounded more authoritative. “I can’t seem to find him. Did he go out?”

“Oh,” the woman said. “No. I would assume he’s in his suite. He might be in his gym.”

“And where is that?” Addison asked.

“His floor. But no one is to disturb Mr. Black when he’s in his suite.”

Addison blinked. His floor. This one, not quite the top, which would of course be reserved for guests wanting penthouse suites, was Logan’s domain. She should have realized that. There wasn’t a bustle of employees or unfamiliar faces on this floor.

It was only him. And now…her.

The thought made her stomach tighten. She immediately visualized walking into a tiger’s cage unarmed.

“Right. Well. Thank you, for that. I will…carry on.” Addison hung up the phone and let out a long, slow breath.

So, no one was to disturb Mr. Black when he was in his room. Well, that had not been in her list of rules from yesterday. And while she hadn’t, in fact, written any of his rules down, she remembered well enough to know he hadn’t mentioned anything along those lines.

In spite of that, she was reluctant to disturb him. Dealing with Logan was unnerving. He lacked a carefully cultivated veneer that most everyone she was accustomed to interacting with seemed to possess. He was guarded, certainly, but this was not with the cloak of civility.

No, Logan seemed more animal than man in his movements. Not even his custom suits could make him look like a typical businessman. He was never still, always prowling through the office like a cat on the hunt.

It made her wonder what exactly he was hunting. Scratch that, she didn’t want to know. She was afraid she wouldn’t like the answer.

She crossed the office and headed to his desk, taking a seat in the large leather chair. She flattened her palms on the glossy surface, sliding her hands over the smooth desktop. One positive thing she could say about him was that he was neat. There wasn’t one bit of excess clutter in the entire room. No errant knickknacks, no decorative art. Nothing that signified a human man actually worked here all day, every day.

He wasn’t wrong about the number of phone calls he got. They came in a steady stream from nine o’clock on. Black Properties employees with important questions and various emergencies.