She had decided at the bar that she was going to have a little talk with the British bastard. He had some splainin’ to do, Lucy. He couldn’t just pick up a phone and get her fired like that.

As she looked around the foyer, Allie wondered briefly where his parents were, but the thought flew out of her head as quickly as it formed. Arnold and Frances must be busy too. That was good. She didn’t want to be interrupted.

She weaved her way down the corridor, slapping her hand on a glass case to steady herself. This one held elaborate antique brass finials. Trevor collected the weirdest shit. Pretty but weird. Carefully, putting one foot in front of the other, she made her way to his office without faltering too much. She dispensed with knocking and flung open the door, slamming it behind her.

Trevor sat behind his desk, sans jacket. His shirtsleeves were rolled up and his tie…hell, she didn’t know where his tie was. He held the phone to his ear and gave her a dirty look as she staggered into the room.

Allie didn’t care who he was talking to. Whoever it was could wait. Right now, she wanted all of his attention, and she was just soused enough to not care if it pissed him off.

She walked over to the desk and jerked the phone from his hand. “This is Mr. Blake’s assistant. He’ll have to call you back.” She hit the end button and tossed the phone down on the desk.

Slowly, Trevor stood. His nostrils were a little white around the edges, and his gray eyes narrowed as they pinned her like one of the butterflies on display in the upstairs hallway. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing, Miss Campbell?”

“You”—she shook a finger at him—“are an ash.”

His brows lifted. “You’re drunk.”

“You bet your ash I’m drunk. I’m drunk as a skunk.” She unbuttoned her vest, pulled it off, and threw it at his head.

He calmly plucked it from his face and placed it on the desk. “Do you always make it a habit to drink before”—he glanced at his watch—“two in the afternoon?”

“Maybe.” She started unbuttoning her long-sleeved white blouse. “Or maybe I’m just mad you had Rick the Dick fire me.” She pulled the blouse off and tossed that at him too.

His gaze got stuck on her breasts. She glanced down at her sheer white bra, the one with cups shaped like sea shells. Everything was on display. She shrugged. He’d seen it all anyway.

“Pardon?” he asked.

“Rick the Dick,” she said, unbuttoning her slacks.

“Why are you undressing in my office, Miss Campbell?” He licked his lips and watched her pull down the zipper.

“Because you’re in here, Mr. Bloody Blake. Where the hell else would I shtrip?” She kicked off her black tennis shoes as she let the pants drop over her hips, giving him a good view of how little her panties were concealing.

“But why are you taking off your clothes at all?” He ran a hand over his mouth, his eyes fixed on her body.

Allie stepped out of the slacks and stumbled a bit as she bent to pick them up. When she straightened, she felt a little woozy, so she stopped moving for a second and placed a hand on her forehead. “The room’s a little spinny.” Then she hurled the slacks, hitting him in the chest.

Trevor stepped around the desk, and as she reached behind her back to unhook the bra, his hands settled over her arms, preventing her from moving. “Allie, what is going on?”

“I’m here to fuck you. That’s why I was fired, right?” She tried to pull out of his hold, but his grasp was too firm. “Let go of me.”

“Allison, stop.” He spun her in his arms, so that his chest rested against her back. She could feel his shirt buttons press along her spine. Could feel the hardness of his cock press against her ass.

“Oh God, I’m so dizzy.”

“Yes, I’m sure you are.” As he spoke, his lips brushed her cheek. “Now, I’m sorry you were fired, but I told you from the beginning you would have to quit.”

“And you couldn’t give me one week to do it? Housework and blow jobs. That’s apparently all I’m good for.”

He sighed in her ear. “Let’s get you dressed.” He rubbed his hand along her forearm. “And that’s not all you’re good for. You’ve taken care of your family, Allison, and put your own needs last. It’s admirable.”

Why did he have be nice? That was just like him, to knock her for a loop when she least expected it. She was pathetic. He paid her one compliment, and she was ready to crumble. Trevor had tried to take her house. Had taken her car. He was sarcastic and nasty and lashed out like a whip whenever she asked him something personal. He didn’t care about her, but when he touched her, all higher-level brain function stopped and her hormones took over.

“No.” She pushed her back against his chest. “No, you are not doing this to me. I am pissed. And I want my job back. And my car. And my fucking life.” Suddenly, tears welled in her eyes and she began to sob. Letting go of his arms, she buried her face in her hands and cried tears of grief and anger that she had kept pent up for the last six months. Tears for her family, for her mom. Tears for herself and the life she should have had.

Trevor petted her hair, soothing her. “You’ve been brave for so long, darling. Let it all out. Shh, it’s going to be all right.”

His kind words made her cry harder.

Dropping her hands, Allie turned to face him and wrapped her arms around his waist, letting her forehead rest against his chest. “Liar,” she choked out. “It’s not going to be all right. It sucks, and it’s going to keep on sucking because that’s what life is.”

“You don’t believe that. You’ve just had a bad day.” He rubbed little circles along her bare back with one hand and continued to stroke her hair with the other.

“Thanks to you.”

Trevor maneuvered her over to the chair in front of his desk and pulled her onto his lap. She turned toward him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I’m a rotten man.”

“The worst,” she sniffed. “And I’m going out to look for another job tomorrow.”

“Mmm,” he said against her cheek. “We’ll see.”

“I mean it, Trevor. I have to work. When you get another mistress, what am I going to do? I have to have a job.”

He didn’t say anything but sat, holding, stroking her, comforting her. God, she was so damn tired. Not just from the crying jag, but from her life.

She didn’t know how long she sat in his lap, but eventually she lifted her head. Trevor wiped a tear with his thumb and kissed her cheek before standing with her in his arms and placing her gently back in the chair. She didn’t even bother to cover herself. She was too weary to care.

He moved to the desk and gathered her clothes, all except for the vest, which he dropped into the trash can. He held his out his hand. “Let’s get you dressed. Although I’m fine with nudity, Arnold is such a prude.”

Her eyes were swollen, and she was a little sick to her stomach as she placed her hand in his. On shaky legs, she stood. “Do you know why I took a job at such a crappy casino?”

“Yes, because they worked around your schedule when your mother was ill.” He briskly helped her into the sleeves of her blouse and buttoned her back up, as if she were a child. Then he knelt before her and guided her feet into the slacks, one foot at a time.

“I hate you,” she whispered. She clutched his shoulder as she lost her balance, but Trevor placed his hands on her hips and held her steady.

Gazing up at her with serious eyes, a sad smile touched his lips. “I hate myself sometimes.” With his hands still wrapped around her, he bent forward and lightly kissed her belly button. He took a deep breath and fastened the button and zipper on her slacks. Before he could stand, the office door opened.

“Oh, good, darlings you’re here.” Mags swept into the room but came to a halt at the sight of Trevor kneeling in front of Allie. “Are you proposing, dearest? Let’s see the ring.”