Tied to the Tycoon by Chloe Cox Page A

can save you, yes? If I tell them you are valuable, you bring in business, or something—whatever. Call me back, Ava, we’ll chat, ok?”
    So now it was bring in a new account under an impossible deadline or lose her job, not just a promotion. Or the other option: “whatever.” Ava sat back on Jackson’s plush black couch, wrapped in his comfy bathrobe, and tried to figure out what she was feeling. It wasn’t easy. She blamed this on Jackson. He’d shaken her to her core, and now pretty much nothing looked the way it should. Like this sudden crisis with her job: she should be totally panicked. Part of her was totally panicked. She’d worked hard at her advertising career; she’d worked hard at becoming the sort of woman who fit in that career. And hell, she’d even told her mother that the promotion was a lock the last time they’d spoken, just to win the argument, and now she was probably going to lose the job entirely? Fantastic. That brought up all those familiar and expected feelings of dread and worthlessnes, but there was something else, too.
    Something Ava couldn’t identify. But something…kind of good. A lightness. It made no sense, none at all.
    This man is like a freaking drug. You’re still high the next morning, Ava, get over it.
    “You’re not so good at following instructions, are you?”
    She started. It was the man himself, standing in the open door, knocking the last bit of snow from his boots. Her insides rolled over just at the sight of him. It took a second for her brain to work again, but when it did, she was on her guard. She didn’t think she could take another emotionally intense conversation. Any Serious Conversation would bring up too much stuff about a guy who was going to be gone in a week.
    “What instructions?” she said.
    He pointed at the slate-topped kitchen bar, the only barrier between the open kitchen and the living room. There was a piece of paper on it. A note. She’d totally missed it, but she was glad to have something to keep her busy while Jackson took all of his winter stuff off. She was feeling wary, and yet, even the suggestion of that man undressing was just…
    She still felt off-balance around him.
    The note did not help with that.
     
    I’ve gone out. Lie down on the bed, naked, eyes closed, and wait for me.
     
    Ava felt her cheeks get hot and looked up to find Jackson smiling at her, fully dressed in jeans and a plain white t-shirt that was a little tight across his broad chest and shoulders. His eyes settled comfortably right where the robe she wore didn’t quite close. She was suddenly very, very aware that she was only wearing a robe, and that she was supposed to be wearing even less.
    “Is this for real?” she asked, holding up the note.
    “Completely.” He came towards her, and her heart sped up perceptibly, but he only put his packages on the countertop: one red envelope and one pastry box. He leaned against the counter next to her and said, “And now you’ve disobeyed an order.”
    Disobeyed. She couldn’t help but remember that he’d referred to “discipline” earlier.
    “Not on purpose,” she said, inexplicably nervous. “Besides, what were you going to do, surprise me with baked goods while naked?”
    Desperate for a distraction, she flipped open the lid of the box to reveal her favorite: red velvet cupcakes with buttercream icing. She’d tried to make them for him once, ages ago. He remembered. Now her heart stopped altogether.
    “Not exactly,” he drawled, and took her hand in his as he pushed off the counter, pulling her around to face him. The robe came loose and opened an inch. She was naked underneath, just barely dry after her shower.
    Well, not dry anymore.
    He pressed her hand to the counter, rendering her immobile, and flicked the robe open.
    “That’s better,” he said. His gaze took in her body from her toes up to her face. She could see the primal desire in his stare, in the twitch of his jaw, even in the way he