Mark lifted a brow. “Always comes back to that, doesn’t it, making sure everyone’s aware of how hard you work.” My blood pressure flared, and the back of my neck heated, probably as he intended. But then Mark folded his arms over the desk, leaned in with a smirk, and the heat in my neck started trickling down south at the mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Thank you, Pynch. I truly appreciate your hard, hard work.” It should’ve made me even more furious. The faux pandering tone, the way his eyes widened slightly—which somehow accentuated the tiny dimple capping his smirk. How he dropped his voice
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