Read Working Stiff: Casimir (Runaway Billionaires #1) for Free Online

me. I can’t bear it.”
    “It didn’t seem like the right thing to do.”
    His voice rose further. “Damn you and your bizarre Southern proprieties. Get your cats. Get your things. We’re taking everything to my place so that you can concentrate on work the rest of the day, and then you’ll stay in my guest suite until we can find a proper apartment for you that accommodates pets so this doesn’t happen again. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”
    He was so funny when he was outraged. Even though Rox saw it a couple times a week, it was still kind of cute.
    And because it was cute, she provoked him further. “You’re not the boss of me.”
    “I assure you, I am actually the boss of you,” Cash said, still ranting. “I am your boss and you will do as I say and you will not sleep in your damned car even one more minute.”
    Cash paused, taking in the fact that she was grinning at his tirade, even though her eyes still burned a little.
    He said, “Oh, I see how it is. Fine. Get these beasts packed up. We’ll pick up some lunch while we’re out. Have you been eating?”
    Rox rolled her eyes at that. “I have money. I just couldn’t find a place to stay.”
    “Then it’s settled.”
    “It’s just for tonight. I’ll find someplace starting tomorrow.”
    “Fine, then. I’ll be back in ten minutes to carry your things downstairs to my car.” He turned to leave.
    “I can drive myself,” she insisted.
    “My car is larger, and yours has been recently used as a flop for homeless people and unwashed beasts. It’s not fit transportation.”
    She laughed at him that time. “You don’t have to do this. I’m really fine.”
    Cash rolled his eyes, finally thoroughly exasperated. “I will brook no more arguments. Pack up your cats.”
    “Okay, boss.”
    His shoulders relaxed as he finally simmered down, and she could see the snark building in him. He asked, “Also, you belong to a gym?”
    Oh, a chubby crack.
    Rox popped her chin up. “Yeah, I do. Where I take kickboxing, and I will pound your skinny, arrogant, lawyer butt if you make a fat joke.”
    Cash chuckled. “That’s not what I meant. You should try mine. It has an excellent juice bar with very good food service. The treadmills have desks. I often look at contracts on a laptop while I’m there. You might like it.”
    She rolled her eyes at that, too. “Dude, you have a serious workaholism problem. There’s gotta be a twelve-step program for that.”

CASIMIR

    Casimir Amsberg—for he still thought of himself by his proper name even though everyone in California had taken to calling him “Cash”—closed his office door and leaned his back against it.
    Roxanne had been in his arms. Her soft heat had soaked through his clothes until he could nearly feel her. He could have pulled her against his body, turned her face up, and kissed her, right there, in that moment.
    For a blink of an eye, it hadn’t mattered to Casimir that she was married. Her husband had gone off to Thailand of all places and left her when she had needed his protection, no matter what the order of events had been.
    It galled Casimir that Rox hadn’t called him when she had needed someone to help her. Anger still coursed through him, running hot in his blood, and that was why he had taken a few moments to quiet himself before they drove out to his house in the foothills.
    All right, he told himself. Yes, she was staying at his house for a night or two. It would be just like when they traveled together.
    Friendly.
    Platonic.
    Uneventful.
    There was no reason that he should think otherwise.
    It made no difference that this was not a hotel but his home.
    He hadn’t been shocked to discover that, when threatened with losing her home, she had chosen her pets over her apartment even though he hadn’t known she had pets. Rox was a kind woman, he knew. She was loyal. She cared for those she committed to.
    And she was married. She had been married before he had met her.
    Cash had