Temptation to Submit Read Online Free Page A

like he hired me.”
    “You’re going to help me track that someone down,” Atticus said. “Right now, you and I are going to go through every scrap of data and verify what’s been altered.”
    Tori curled her hands into fists. “I don’t work weekends.” That was a lie, but Atticus wouldn’t know that.
    “You will this weekend,” Atticus said as he rose. “In return for your services this weekend, I won’t write you up for striking me in public.”
    She dropped her head in her hands and groaned. “Look, Finch, I didn’t mean to deck you, but—”
    “It doesn’t matter. You did it.” His tone brooked no discussion. “Your choice is to work with me or find another job.” He retrieved a box from the corner of the room and set it down the couch. “Most employers wouldn’t give you that much.”
    No, they wouldn’t. And the chances of finding another job while this cloud of creative accounting hung over her head were slim to none. Stiffly, she reached over and opened the box. “How far back do you want to go?”
    * * * *
    The next few hours were filled with spreadsheets and invoices. Atticus hadn’t expected to actually hurt her feelings. He studied Victoria surreptitiously. Once she’d decided to stay, she dove in, working on all cylinders. But he hadn’t missed the wince when he’d called her a brat. And he’d noted how her voice sounded tight when he berated her for lack of control.
    His own feelings had gotten in the way. For months, she’d tormented him and didn’t know it. Last night, she’d left him raw and angry. Not because he’d been denied sexual satisfaction, but because the only time she admitted she wanted him as a man and a Dominant was when she was drunk.
    When he’d lashed out at her, he hadn’t thought for a moment she’d be hurt by what he said. After all, he was Finch the Bastard. Now, he wasn’t sure if his opinion mattered to her or not. Their banter had always had an edge, but it was banter. Now there was only cold numbers and spreadsheets.
    They sat on the same couch, studying the same files, but she might as well be on another planet for how close they were.
    “What do you do on your days off, Victoria?” He asked the question, wanting some kind of response from her.
    Her eyes narrowed as she studied him for a moment. “Why?”
    “You’re very good with numbers, but you aren’t passionate about them,” he said as he shuffled some of the files. “I’m curious to know what you are passionate about.”
    She tightened her lips. “Does it matter?” Her gaze slid away to stare at her computer screen.
    “Maybe you aren’t aware of what it is,” he said, trying to goad her.
    When she lifted her head and stared at him, he was stunned to see resigned bitterness there. “Right. A passionless, brat sub. That’s what you think?” She laughed, but it didn’t have any humor. “Maybe you’re right.”
    Damn it. That wasn’t what he’d meant. “Victoria—”
    “Drop it, Finch.” She focused on the computer screen. “Let’s just get this over with. I’d like to get some dinner at some point today.”
    He slid across the couch and placed his hand on her chin. She tensed and tried to pull away. “I would never call you passionless. I have a bruise on my jaw to disprove that.” When he met her gaze, he was stunned to see a wounded, vulnerable expression. “Victoria, if I’ve hurt you, I apologize.”
    For a split second, he thought she’d deny it, stick to her stubborn pride instead of being honest with him. But then, she surprised him. “Well, you did. Now let me go.”
    Instead of complying, he gentled his touch and stroked her cheek. “I was angry with you.”
    She blinked and took in a quick breath. “Because I hit you?”
    No. He’d been angry because he wanted her, wanted her to want him. Instead, she fought him, defied him, acted as if he was a big joke. His interaction with women had been controlled, kept strictly on a friendly basis. She made