The CEO Above My Desk (Mckenzie Shinabery) novel Chapter 137

Chapter 137

It’s possession.

His gaze drags slowly from my heels, up my legs, pauses at my waist, then higher-like he’s memorizing me. Like he’s

claiming me.

“Jesus,” he mutters under his breath.

Heat floods my face instantly. “What?” I ask, trying to sound normal and failing.

He steps closer. Slow. Deliberate. “You’re lucky,” he says quietly.

My stomach flips. “Lucky?”

His eyes flick to mine, dark, heavy. “That we don’t have more time.”

My breath catches. “Why?” I ask, even though I already know I shouldn’t.

His voice drops lower. “Because I’d bend you over in that dressing room and remind you exactly how much you mean to me before we made this official.”

My heart stutters. Hard.

God.

Something is seriously wrong with me. Because instead of being horrified… I lean in slightly.

“Then you can do that in the courthouse bathroom,” I whisper back.

His jaw tightens. Eyes darkening.

“Careful,” he murmurs.

But there’s no warning in it.

Just promise.

Everything moves quickly after that.

Too quickly.

The store manager reappears almost instantly, all polished smiles and practiced charm, a sleek black tablet in her hand as

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Chapter 137

she approaches Rowan like she’s been waiting her entire life for this exact moment. “Mr. Ashcroft,” she says smoothly, her voice just a little too warm, a little too eager. “I’ve taken the liberty of applying a private client discount to your purchase today. It’s not something we usually offer, but…” She tilts her head slightly, letting her hair fall just enough to frame her

face. “For you, I’m sure we can make an exception.”

Rowan doesn’t even look at her.

His attention is still on me.

Still locked in like nothing else in this room exists.

“Mm,” he says absently, already reaching for his wallet.

The manager doesn’t seem discouraged.

If anything, she leans in closer.

“I’m Elena Devereaux, by the way,” she adds, her tone shifting just enough to carry weight. “My father owns Devereaux House-global luxury line? I’m sure you’ve heard of it.”

I have.

Of course I have.

And the way she says her last name?

Like it should mean something to him.

Like it should matter.

Rowan slides his card across the counter without even glancing up. “Run it.”

That’s it.

That’s all she gets.

For a split second, something flickers across her face-surprise, maybe even irritation-but she recovers quickly, flashing another bright smile as she processes the payment.

“Well,” she says lightly, tapping away, “if you ever need anything custom, Mr. Ashcroft, I’d be more than happy to personally assist you. Devereaux clients tend to receive… a more curated experience.”

Her eyes flick to me briefly.

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Chapter 137

Assessing.

Measuring.

Then back to him.

I feel it.

That shift.

That silent comparison.

My stomach twists.

Rowan doesn’t react.

Doesn’t acknowledge it.

Doesn’t even see it.

Because the second the receipt prints, she does something bold.

She turns it slightly, picks up a pen, and scribbles something quickly along the bottom before sliding it toward him.

“My direct line,” she says softly. “In case you need anything… privately handled.”

Oh. Wow.

I blink.

She really just…

Rowan takes the receipt without looking.

Without reading.

Without caring.

“Bag it,” he says, already stepping closer to me again, his hand settling at the small of my back like it belongs there.

Like I belong there.

“Yes, of course,” she replies quickly, but there’s a tightness in her smile now, something just a little strained as she hands

over the bags.

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Chapter 137

I watch her.

Watch the way her eyes linger on him.

On us.

On me.

And before I even realize what I’m doing, I reach over. And take the receipt from his hand.

“Thanks,” I murmur.

Rowan doesn’t question it. Doesn’t care.

But I do.

Because as I glance down… There it is.

A name.

A number.

And a perfectly scripted little note:

Call me anytime. – Elena Devereaux

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The CEO Above My Desk