The CEO’s Masked Secret Wife novel Chapter 17

17 The Boss’s Heated Proposition

Hazel’s POV

The Sterling Group buzzed with carly morning activity as I arrived, still feeling vulnerable without underwear after yesterday’s encounter. My torn panties were still in Liam Sterling’s possession–a trophy from our heated battle on his office couch. The memory made my cheeks flush as I settled at my

desk.

“Good morning, Hazel!”

I looked up to find Owen Harris, Damian Knight’s assistant, standing by my desk with a warm smile. His friendly demeanor was a welcome distraction from my current. predicament.

“Morning, Owen,” I replied, returning his smile. “You’re in early.”

“Same as you. Thought we could sync up on today’s schedule before the bosses arrive.”

Owen was tall, blond, and undeniably handsome with his boyish charm and kind blue. eyes. Under different circumstances, I might have been interested, but my body still tingled from Liam’s touch.

“Great idea,” I said, pulling up my calendar. “Mr. Sterling has the budget meeting at nine and lunch with the board at noon.”

Owen nodded. “Mr. Knight will join for both. Should we coordinate their afternoon as

well?”

As we compared notes, the elevator chimed. Damian Knight strolled in, his tailored suit accentuating his athletic build. When he spotted us, a mischievous grin spread across his face.

“Well, well! My two favorite assistants looking cozy,” he teased, leaning against my desk. “How are you settling in, Hazel? Is our fearsome leader treating you well?”

Before I could answer, Liam emerged from his office. His violet–blue eyes narrowed at the sight of Damian hovering by my desk.

I have vo

“Knight, don’t own assistant to bother?” Liam’s voice carried a sharp edge.

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Damian’s grin widened. “Just checking on the new blood. Someone has to make her feel welcome.”

“I believe that’s my job,” Liam replied coldly.

I couldn’t help myself. “Is it? I must have missed that in the employee handbook.”

Damian burst into laughter while Owen’s eyes widened in shock. Liam’s gaze locked onto mine, promising retribution.

“Ms. Vance, my tea, he commanded before retreating to his office.

“Someone’s in a mood,” Damian whispered with a wink. “Good luck.”

As Owen and Damian walked away, I prepared Liam’s tea. My hands trembled slightly as I added a single sugar cube–exactly how he liked it. The smart move would be delivering his tea with an apology and professional demeanor.

But I wasn’t feeling smart today. I was feeling bold.

I walked into Liam’s office without knocking, deliberately letting my hips sway. His eyes tracked my movement like a predator.

“Your tea, Mr. Sterling,” I said, placing it on his desk and leaning forward slightly more

than necessary.

“Thank you,” he replied, his voice tight. “That will be all.”

I didn’t move. “Is there anything else you need, sir?”

His jaw clenched. “Testing me again, Ms. Vance?”

“I’m just being thorough,” I replied innocently.

Liam stood suddenly, circling his desk with deliberate steps. I backed away until I hit the wall. He placed his hands on either side of my head, caging me in.

“I warned you yesterday,” he growled, his face inches from mine. “Or did you forget what happens when you provoke me?”

My heart hammered in my chest. “I remember.”

“And yet here you are,” he whispered, his breath hot against my ear. “Without panties,

if I’m not mistaken.”

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17 The Boss’s Heated Proposition

1 gasped. “How did you-”

“I know every inch of your body’s reactions now,” Liam stated, his

his eyes dark with desire. “The next time you come in here swaying those hips and batting those eyes, I will forget you’re my assistant. I will bend you over this desk and take you until you beg me to stop.”

Heat pooled between my legs at his raw words. My breath caught as his hand skimmed lightly down my side, stopping at my hip.

“Do you understand me, Hazel?” His voice was dangerously low.

Before I could answer, the door swung open. Damian froze in the doorway, taking in our compromising position.

“Well,” he drawled, “I was coming to grab you for the conference call, but maybe your

need a minute?”

Liam stepped back immediately. “We were just discussing proper office protocol.”

Damian’s eyebrow shot up. “Against a wall? Interesting teaching method.”

I straightened my skirt, face burning. “Excuse me.”

“Actually,” Damian said, blocking my exit, “I think we should address the elephant in the room. The sexual tension between you two is suffocating everyone around you.”

“Damian,” Liam warned.

“No, let me finish,” Damian continued. “Just sleep together already. The whole office is taking bets on when it happens, and frankly, I’d like to collect my winnings.”

“That’s inappropriate,” I stammered.

“What’s inappropriate is watching you two circle each other like hungry wolves. It’s inevitable, so stop torturing yourselves–and the rest of us.”

With that bomb dropped, Damian walked out, leaving a heavy silence in his wake.

Liam ran a hand through his hair. “I apologize for his behavior.”

“It’s fine,” I muttered, desperate to escape. “I should get back to work.”

The morning dragged by in uncomfortable awareness. Every time Liam emerged from

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17 The Boss’s Heated Proposition

his office, my body tensed in anticipation. By lunchtime, I needed distance.

Owen caught me in the break room. “Want to grab lunch in the courtyard? I packed

extra”

His friendly offer was exactly what I needed. “That would be lovely.”

We ate sandwiches on a bench beneath a sprawling oak tree, chatting about everything except work. Owen was easy to talk to–no hidden agendas, no power plays.

“So how are you really doing here?” he asked. “Evelyn says you’ve been handling Sterling better than anyone expected;

I smiled. “It’s challenging but rewarding. Mr. Sterling is… intense.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Owen laughed. “The man has gone through three assistants in the past year.”

“I’m not planning to become number four,” I said firmly.

When we returned, Liam was waiting by my desk, his expression unreadable as he watched us approach.

“Enjoyed your lunch break, Ms. Vance?” he asked coolly.

“Yes, thank you,” I replied, sliding into my chair,

“Good. My office in five minutes.”

As he walked away, Owen whispered, “Good luck,” before returning to his desk.

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