Taming Her Boss Part 3

"Olivia?"

"Call me Oli, please," she says, looking up for the first time since we climbed in the car. Reluctantly, I glance away from her and use the rare break in traffic to glide back onto the street.

"Oli. Isn't that normally a boy's name?"

"Wow. Getting started with the s.e.xist bulls.h.i.t right off the bat? Thanks but no thanks, Lex. Let's just stick to business, okay?" I squeeze my hands on the steering wheel and try not to get angry. I can't complain about all the ingratiating idiots in my life if I can't handle a little criticism from the one person I've sought out to hand me the opposite.

I clear my throat and focus on driving for a moment.

"I'm sorry your plans for the evening got derailed," I say, hoping to bridge the gap between us, find some of that spark from last night. If I can stir it up in her again, it'll make this a lot easier, a lot more likely to actually happen. But again, Olivia chooses to remain silent, snapping off a loose thread from her dress and then leaning back against the seat, eyes glued on the scene pa.s.sing by outside the window. Before I get a chance to curb my tongue, I blurt my next words out. "You must've had quite the adventure arranged if you needed all those condoms."

Olivia's head whips around, and I can feel her eyes burning holes in the side of my face. I much prefer this to the strained silence.

"You don't know when to stop, do you?" she asks me, shaking her head like she can't quite believe she's here, sitting in a car with the likes of me. Olivia acts like my power, money, and privilege are an inconvenience, something to look down on instead of gaze up at. I find that interesting. "Where I was going or why I had the condoms isn't really any of your business."

"Are you sure about that?" I ask, enjoying the surge of anger searing the air between us. "Last night, I believe you wandered off in search of exactly that. Why you went into the living room to find one is beyond me."

"I am so sick of people commenting on that. Who cares why I have condoms in my living room? What's the big freaking deal? As far as you know, I have so many one-night stands, that it's more convenient for me to keep a stash downstairs. Maybe I don't like inviting strangers up to my f.u.c.king bedroom?"

I feel both of my eyebrows raise up in surprise.

"That's quite the admission," I say, feeling my tongue slide across my lower lip. I know Olivia's watching me right now. What she's thinking, however, is a complete mystery.

"I never said that was the truth, just a hypothetical possibility. I bet you keep condoms in your living room, too." She sighs and leans against the door, still looking at me, but with her shoulders slightly less tense, her forehead slightly less wrinkled. "Why do you care anyway?"

"Because one of those condoms was supposed to be for me." I let my voice drop into a low growl and try to gauge Olivia's reaction from the corner of my eye. She doesn't even blink.

"Yeah, well, you're an attractive enough man, and I'm a red-blooded woman." Olivia shrugs. "I had a couple of bottles of wine, and things progressed a little further than I'd intended. It doesn't mean anything."

"Oh, Olivia," I say, touching a hand to my chest. "Now, we both know that isn't true. Can't you feel the s.e.xual tension brewing between us? If you want, I could take care of the need you were trying to fulfill with all those condoms."

"Thank you, Lex, but that won't be necessary. Let's keep this short, sweet, and simple. Come Monday morning, maybe we can put this whole fias...o...b..hind us and start fresh."

"No," I say, wondering how well this particular bit of information is going to go over. "Come Monday morning, Olivia Ashcraft, you are still fired."

I cannot even believe I'm sitting across the table from this jerk.

Lex Lyndon smiles at me and raises his winegla.s.s, toasting G.o.d only knows what. Certainly not this forced meeting from h.e.l.l. I have no idea what he intends to gain from taking me out to some stuffy candlelit dinner, but if it's loyalty for this side project he's working on, then his efforts have been sorely misplaced. What makes him think I'm going to take on a new job when he's trying so desperately to rip away the one I've already got?

"Look, I've eaten enough applewood smoked bacon beignets to last me a lifetime, so can we please move onto the proposal and get this over with?" Our waiter pauses next to the table and refills our wine gla.s.ses with a small smirk on his face. Hah. I get what this probably looks like: me in a fancy dress, Lex dressed up in a suit that costs more than my car, and talk of a proposal. To most people, this wouldn't look like a business meeting, but a personal one. A way, way, way too personal one.

I clear my throat and sit up straight, frustrated that my plans for going out and finding some hot young dude to dance the night away with were tossed out the window the moment I saw Lex standing outside my townhouse. I run my hands down the front of my dress and let my eyes wander around the restaurant. Located in a small, narrow s.p.a.ce with red and black chairs, a blue accent wall, and dark wood floors, this is exactly the type of restaurant the moms like to frequent. Frankly, I would not be surprised to see them walk in the door at any moment. I can only pray that they don't. I don't think I would ever be able to live the moment down.

"Olivia," Lex says, leaning forward and then pausing to run his tongue across his lower lip. I hate that my eyes follow the motion when he does that. "Oli, don't you want to wait until after our entrees to discuss business? We have all night." I reach out for my winegla.s.s and take a very healthy sip. It's a light white, crisp and refreshing. I was too busy glaring at Lex when he was ordering to pay attention to the label, but I'm absolutely certain this is not a California grape. The moms would most certainly not approve of that.

"No," I say, setting my gla.s.s down and taking a deep breath. I look Lex in his perfect face and try not to appreciate the dark slash of his cheekbones, the square perfection of his jaw, his moist lips. "We have exactly one hour." I point at his pocket, indicating his cell phone. "Just as long as your secretary said it would take for the locksmith guy to get to my car. That is it. Anything else you have to say to me can wait until our meeting with HR on Monday."

Lex sighs and leans down, grabbing the briefcase from the floor and setting it on the table. He doesn't look happy about having to do it either, despite the fact that this whole meeting was his idea in the first place. He's spent the last half an hour or so trying to, I don't know, woo me or something. But Olivia Ashcraft is not a woman who is easily wooed, especially not by an a.s.shole like this. Yes, things got hot between us last night, but so what? Big deal. I don't really care now nicely his suit jacket pulls across his broad shoulders or how thick and perfect his c.o.c.k felt when I freed it from his briefs.

Nuh uh.

Do not give a s.h.i.t about any of that.

Not one freaking s.h.i.t.

I grab my winegla.s.s and finish off the rest of the liquid.

"Before we discuss this any further, I'm going to have to ask you to sign a nondisclosure agreement." Lex pulls a piece of paper from his briefcase and pa.s.ses it across the table to me along with a pen. Frankly, I'm not surprised. This is commonplace in the world of business. I scan the page quickly to make sure I'm not agreeing to anything suspect and sign the dotted line with a flourish. Basically, whatever Lex tells me right now is in complete confidence. I spill the beans, he gets to sue my a.s.s. End of deal, done.

I lean back and cross my arms over my chest, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Lex takes his sweet time filing away the NDA, giving me the distinct impression that he's ... nervous. Alexander Lyndon, CEO of Lyndon Realty Trust, is sitting across from me with little beads of sweat collecting on his forehead. He brushes them away like they're nothing, sitting up straight and withdrawing a packet of papers from his briefcase. He tosses them at me with a nonchalance he isn't feeling, trying to pretend that what I just saw was a figment of my imagination. But it wasn't. I know; I saw.

Whatever this is, it's big. Maybe, just maybe, this night's not going to be a total waste.

I smile as I collect the papers, enjoying the strained look spreading across his features. Maybe little Lyndon isn't so happy with Daddy's company after all? Is he planning on separating himself from the company? Taking some key investors with him? Is this a scandal?

I lean back and start to scan the doc.u.ments.

At first, I have to reread and reread and reread the sentences. My mouth begins to droop at the corners, and my eyes start to widen in shocked surprise.

The first thing I notice is the absurd amount of money that Lex wants to pay me. h.e.l.l, it's printed so large on the second page of the contract that it'd be hard to miss. The dollar figure in question is so astronomical that I could pay off my townhouse, my car, my credit cards, and have money left over to live on for decades. Comfortably.

The second thing I notice is the word s.e.x. That, too, is hard to miss, plastered as it across every single surface I have in front of me. s.e.x, s.e.x, s.e.x. That's what this contract is about: s.e.x. Namely, s.e.x between Lex Lyndon and myself.

"Is this ... is this a joke?" I manage to choke out, getting caught on my own words as I struggle and fail to come up with an articulate question to post to the psychotic man sitting across the table from me. I tap my fist against my chest to clear my airway and then shake my head. "I mean, did you do this to be funny? Or just to see how much, exactly, you could get away with before I'd snap completely?"

"This is a legitimate offer," Lex says, leaning forward and placing his finger on the packet of papers. His gray eyes are shimmering with emotions I don't even want to begin to try to decipher. In fact, I'd daresay his voice sounds ... desperate. It's a difficult attribute to apply to the a.s.shole in the corner office. I'm not even sure I can do it, not even if it's true. "Olivia," he begins and then pauses, eyes flicking this way and that, like he expects someone he knows to sweep down on us at any moment. "Oli. I've been looking for someone like you for a very long time."

I feel my eyebrow spring up in surprise and incredulous frustration.

"Someone. Like. Me." I repeat the words slowly, barely able to force them between my lips. "You mean, like an expensive wh.o.r.e?" I shake the papers at him and don't care that several sets of eyes have turned to stare at us. "Because that's what this contract indicates I should become. You want me. To have s.e.x with you. For six months. Exclusively." I drop the papers on the table, right on top of my last beignet and flip through them quickly. "And apparently, you want me to ... what? Dominate you? This is like a BDSM arrangement?" I tilt my head to the side and narrow my eyes at him again. "Is this like a reverse Fifty Shades of Grey thing? Lex, am I supposed to be your Christian Grey? Because that is not happening."

"Could you please keep your voice down," Lex grinds out between his perfect teeth. He's right, though, people are starting to stare. Much as I'd like to throw this contract around and let everyone in this d.a.m.n restaurant read it, I'm not going to. First off, because I signed an NDA (that sneaky little b.a.s.t.a.r.d). Second of all, because Lex has just insulted me to my very core. He wants to pay me to have s.e.x with him. I don't care that he wants me to dominate him, that I'd be in charge, etcetera, etcetera. That's all irrelevant. Lex doesn't care what I do for his company, doesn't care that I work my a.s.s off making him millions. He doesn't see me as an a.s.set or a hard worker or an employee but as a woman. Some commodity to be exploited and abused.

"You can go f.u.c.k yourself," I snarl, throwing the papers across the table and into his lap. I stand up from my chair with the screech of wood on wood, adjust my hair with my hands and storm out the door with an audience of romancing couples and slack-jawed waiters.

As soon as my heels. .h.i.t the pavement and the cool evening air brushes against the bare skin of my arms, I remember that I'm three miles away from my house wearing high heels and a long evening gown one that I stupidly thought I was going to go clubbing in. Hah. I guess it has been a while since I last went out. I just grabbed for the prettiest thing in my closet and threw it on. Now, I'm on the corner of 17th and Pond with no car, no wallet, no phone.

Well.

The last thing I'm going to do is walk back in that restaurant and ask Lex if I can use his.

Good thing I don't have to.

"Olivia, please," Lex says, coming out the doors behind me as I hike up my dress and tie the fabric in a knot against my calves. If I'm going to be walking home, I'll need it up and out of the way. I lift my leg up and start to pull my heel off when I catch sight of the sidewalk. Ugh. San Francisco city streets. Bare foot. The two things refuse to reconcile in my head. "I wasn't implying you were a wh.o.r.e, far from it."

"Oh, that's rich," I say, spinning to face Lex, hating that he's a f.u.c.king vision in his well-pressed suit. I also hate that his ties are so colorful. What does that even mean? It would make a h.e.l.l of a lot more sense if they were as boring and cold as the rest of him. I take a deep breath and close my eyes for a moment, holding out my right hand and wiggling my fingers at him. "Give me your phone."

"Not until you hear me out," Lex continues as I shake my head and open my eyes, backing up a step. If he can't figure out why I'm so bothered by his offer, then he's even further away from planet earth than I thought he was. The a.s.shole better get his head out of the clouds before he suffocates from the lack of oxygen up there.

I turn away and start to cross Pond Street, certain that my feet are going to be b.l.o.o.d.y and blistered by the time I get back to my place. Three miles is a long way to walk in heels. If I had my f.u.c.king wallet, I could walk a block in the opposite direction and get to the Castro Street Station, take the Powell/Hyde Cable Car home. But I'll be d.a.m.ned if I ask Lex for a single cent. I'll keep my pride and my dignity, thank you very much.

I spin around halfway through the crosswalk and point a finger at Lex.

"And come Monday, this whole talk about firing me better be a thing of the past."

I turn back away from him, lift my chin up, and walk the entire three miles without a single hitch in my step. I might have signed a Non Disclosure Agreement, but if Lex thinks he can fire me and walk away from this without consequence, he's got another thing coming.

Walk away without consequences.

I cringe and lean back in my chair, head resting against the leather as I let out a sigh and try to ignore the throbbing in my feet. I certainly didn't walk away from that meeting without consequence. My feet are swearing up and down that somebody took a baseball bat to them at some point during the weekend. Whether that was before or after they flayed the skin around from my ankles and my toes, that's up for debate.

"Knock, knock," Maxi says as she slips into my office and pauses on the opposite side of my desk. "Thought I'd stop by and see what you wanted to do for lunch. After Friday, I'm not sure if I can ever eat Thai food again. I tried to stop by the Thai place that's across the street from my apartment complex and as soon as I smelled peanut sauce, I thought of Lex Lyndon and his angry, red face." Maxi adjusts the binder in her right arm and tilts her head to the side as she studies me carefully. "Are you okay, Oli? I didn't see you after he dragged you into his office?"

"I went home early," I say, sitting up with a groan and trying my best to smile at my friend. The last thing I want to talk about right now is Lex Lyndon. He ruined my Friday, decimated my Sat.u.r.day, and managed to taint my Sunday, too. I spent the whole day soaking my feet in the tub and reading crime thrillers. Something about page after page of blood and gore and fastidious police work just rubs me the right way. What is it about reading that makes the rest of the world fall away? When compared with a multi-national drug trafficking ring, my issues with Lex seemed paltry.

Sitting here at my desk on Monday, I'm not so sure I believe that anymore.

I smile at my friend, ignoring the slight crinkle of skin around her pale green eyes that says she's not buying what I'm selling.

"I, uh, had a rough weekend," I supply, standing up from my desk with a groan. Maxi raises one blonde brow, proving that there's not a chance in h.e.l.l she's going to settle for such a crummy excuse. I let Lex's bizarre 'business proposal' simmer in the back of my mind as I hobble around to the front of the desk and pause there, letting Maxi take in the brown slippers on my feet. Do NDAs really apply to best friends? My lips twitch with a desperate need to spill the beans to Maxi.

"Why are you wearing slippers?" she asks me, looking down at my feet and then back up at my face. I sigh and perch on the edge of the desk, crossing my arms over my chest. I may not be able to tell Maxi everything, but at least this is something I can be honest about.

"I walked three miles in a pair of four inch heels."

Maxi wrinkles her nose up and clutches her binder tight against the pearlescent white blouse she has on today. Professional, boring, just like Lex Lyndon likes it. Well, maybe not as much as he pretends to. That contract was pretty clear: take control. He didn't just want me to sleep with him, he wanted me to orchestrate everything, down to the smallest details. I didn't exactly pick through the contract with a fine-tooth comb, but it sure as h.e.l.l gave me an insight into the man's personality that I wasn't expecting. I could tell when I talked to him before that he was hiding something, but I had no idea that this was it.

Lex Lyndon wants a woman in charge, and he's willing to pay for it quite handsomely I might add. Chills travel up and down my spine as I lick my suddenly dry lips and try to figure out how to tell my story to Maxi without revealing exactly what was in Lex's proposal.

"Let's do Chinese," I say, forcing myself to stand up. "I'll explain everything over a steaming bowl of wonton soup."

"You went on a date with the boss," Maxi spits out, her food lying untouched on the red tablecloth between us. I stir my spoon in the liquid and try to keep a smile plastered across my lips. Now that I've gotten the story out, I feel a little bit better, like some of the weight's been lifted off my shoulders. Considering the absurdity of Lex's request, I imagine that future interactions between that man and myself will be kept to an absolute minimum. In fact, other than his brief jaunt between the elevator and his office door, I haven't seen Lex today. He didn't even glance my way when he walked past my office.

"Not exactly," I say, trying to get her to understand that I had no choice in the matter. Well, okay, that's not true. There's always a choice I just had an easy one to make. Dinner with Lex, hopefully placating him enough that he'd leave me alone, and standing outside my apartment freezing my b.u.t.t off for an hour while I waited for the locksmith. At the time, it seemed like a harmless concession to make. Hilarious, now that I think about it. One look at Lex Lyndon's dark eyes and sharp smile, and it becomes pretty obvious there's nothing harmless about that man. "Now. I've told you the story "

"But not the whole story," Maxi interrupts, dropping her spoon against the side of her bowl and reaching for the silver pot of tea in the center of the table. "NDA or no, I want to hear what was in that contract." I purse my lips and let my gaze slide out the window, at the gray foggy afternoon that's enveloping the buildings around us, kissing them with the taste of salty bay and ocean. Honestly, I don't care that I signed a stupid piece of paper promising to be silent about our meeting, I'd tell Maxi anyway. She's not going to relay that information; n.o.body would ever know. Thing is, I don't really want to tell her what the offer involved. It was ... unsettling to say the least.

I decide I'll use the NDA as my shield anyway.

"I'm sorry, Maxi, but I don't want the sue stick to come down hard on me. You know how litigation happy the Lyndons are." She sighs and sets the teapot down, tearing open several sugar packets and dumping them into the steaming liquid. I watch her for a moment and scoop another wonton into my mouth. I'm in the process of chewing the stupid thing when I look out the window and catch sight of the last person I want to see today. "c.r.a.p."

I start choking on my food, pounding my chest with my fist in a desperate attempt to clear my airway.

"Oli? Are you okay?" Maxi rises to her feet and moves over to my side of the table at the same moment Lex disappears, and I hear the sharp tinkling of bells from the front door of the restaurant. c.r.a.p, c.r.a.p, c.r.a.p, and d.a.m.n it. "I don't remember how to do the Heimlich maneuver," Maxi stresses, rubbing my back in circles and gazing up at the ceiling in thought. "Is it thumb side of the fist against the stomach? Above the navel? Or is it the middle of the breastbone?"

"It's above the navel," Lex Lyndon says, pausing next to our table with no sign of distress wrinkling his perfectly pressed suit or beautifully stoic facial features. "Unless the person you're attempting to use the maneuver on is pregnant or obese, then it's the center of the breastbone." He stares down at me with those steel gray eyes, not much friendlier than the fog outside the window. I'd rather jump in the bay naked than climb into bed with this man not even for a million bucks. Not even for a hundred million bucks, which is a lot closer to the offer he presented me last night. "However, if the person you're attempting to save is coughing or has the ability to talk, you shouldn't perform the Heimlich unless their condition worsens."

"Nice to know you've got my back," I choke, coughing up a piece of wonton into my hand. Ugh. How ... unattractive. I grab the napkin off the table and deposit the half-masticated food into it. This f.u.c.king sucks. If I thought my week couldn't get any worse, I was dead wrong. Maxi glances over at my face and smiles tightly, sliding out of the seat next to me and retreating back to her side of the booth. "You're interrupting my lunch break again," I iterate slowly and carefully, trying not to gasp for air after my near death choking attempt. "I thought we discussed the implications of that on Friday."

I look over and up at Lex, hating the way he towers over the table, casting a shadow across my suddenly unappetizing bowl of soup. I scoot to the edge of the booth and rise to my feet, coming chest to belly with the boss and CEO of Lyndon Realty Trust. If I thought I had to look up at him last night, this is so much worse. I feel like I'm craning my neck trying to stare the guy down. I'm five foot five, short but not ridiculously so. It's just that Lex is tall. Super f.u.c.king tall. Like six foot five or something. Not having those extra few inches of high heel on my side sucks.

"Good afternoon, Miss Ashcraft. I take it you didn't run into any trouble with the locksmith?" If he's waiting for me to thank him for pre-paying for the service, he's got another thing coming. I cross my arms over my chest, aware that I'm wearing slippers under my trousers not exactly the best accessory to help get me into that power b.i.t.c.h mode. But hey, I don't need fancy shoes for that. I keep that magical ability wrapped close around my heart.

"If you have something you wish to discuss with me, set up a meeting," I tell Lex, smiling tightly and ignoring the warmth pa.s.sing between our bodies. We're standing too close for comfort, but with the table at my back, I have nowhere else to go. Anyway, I wouldn't step back if I did. He's the one that's going to step away. I'll make sure of it.

I think of my loose lips the night he stopped by my house, how I ordered him to f.u.c.k me against the wall ... and he did. Or at least, he tried to. Would that same tactic work now, here?

"Go back to the office, Lex. If there's an email waiting for me when I get back, I'll read it. If you summon me to your desk, I'll come, but only as a professional courtesy." He stares at me and then turns away without another word. I hate that I see the hint of a smirk touch his lips as he goes ... three feet away and sits at the bar. "You have got to be f.u.c.king kidding me," I growl under my breath, sitting back down and fuming as Maxi looks between me and Lex with a skeptical expression on her face.

"You guys ... like each other?" she asks, like she's never heard of anything so preposterous. I laugh too loudly maybe and s.n.a.t.c.h up my spoon with a grimacing smile.

"Like each other? Not hardly." I stab at another wonton and ignore the rumble of Lex's voice as he orders ... wonton soup. f.u.c.king a.s.shole. I toss another glare at my boss' back. "I guess we both just like Chinese food."

As Olivia requested, I head back to the office approximately ten steps behind her. I'm not trying to stalk her or anything, we simply happened to finish our soup at the same moment.

She swipes her security badge at the door with tense, jerking motions, letting the gla.s.s slam in my face. I grit my teeth and yank mine out of my pocket, catching up to her in the lobby with long strides.

"You don't have to run from me, you know," I say, ignoring the tense, nervous eyes of Olivia's friend. Miss Ashcraft might not be afraid of me, but her friend certainly is. It doesn't matter; I'm used to it. Most of the employees here men and woman alike are terrified of me.

"Oh, believe me, I'm not running, Lex," Olivia says as the three of us pause in front of the elevator. The blonde I can't remember her name, but I do know she's from accounting swipes her badge and presses the b.u.t.ton for the lobby. "I don't run from my problems." I glance down at Olivia's feet, at the slippers she's got on. Interesting. I guess walking home in her high heels really did a number on her feet. I almost feel sorry for her. Or I would've if she hadn't stood me up. But I haven't given up yet. I'm a Lyndon, and my family never got anywhere by giving up so easily.

The elevator dings into place and Olivia's blonde friend climbs on, leaving the two of us to glare at each other in the pale sterility of the office lobby. There's a private elevator I could take up to floor twelve, but I'd rather ride with Olivia. Maybe I should invite her on it?

"Go up without me, Maxi," Olivia says, nodding her chin at her friend. The girl gives her a look that's hard for me to decipher and pushes the b.u.t.ton for our floor, letting the silver doors slide closed between us.

I stare into Olivia's emerald eyes, tasting the fury and the anger burning there, the righteous indignation. She has every right to be irate with me I did ask her to sleep with me for money. How I can possibly convince her what wh.o.r.e is the last word I had in my mind when I cooked up this arrangement is beyond me. Maybe I can't? But if I can't manage that, I have a feeling there's no way in h.e.l.l she'll accept my proposal not for all the money in the world.

"Why are you bothering me today, Lex?" she asks, not at all afraid to refer to me by my first name or rather my nickname. I'm aware that most of my employees call me Lex behind my back, but none of them call me that to my face. It's always Mr. Lyndon or even Sir. I purse my lips, but I don't let it bother me. It shouldn't, not if I want Olivia to carry out the rest of the instructions in my contract. If this works out the way I want it to, she'll not only be calling me Lex but whatever she wants. She'll be able to beat me, f.u.c.k me, command me as she sees fit. I should start getting used to it now. Luckily for her, I have respect for her tenacity. If I didn't, I wouldn't be trying so hard to get her to accept the position.

"I want to continue the discussion we started on Sat.u.r.day night," I say as she watches the number above the elevator doors climb to twelve. As soon as it gets there, she presses the lobby b.u.t.ton again. "I understand and even appreciate your outrage, anger, and frustration with me, but I'd like to give you a chance to read the entire contract in detail, and to hold a question and answer session where we can discuss any issues you might have."

Olivia laughs, her voice echoing sharply around the lobby. I hear the footsteps of the security guard as he pa.s.ses by and pauses to stare at the two of us.

"Lex," Olivia begins, touching her fingers to her forehead. I love the way her ruby red hair cascades over her brow in a gentle wave, frothing around her face and tapering away near her shoulders. I've never seen such thick, luscious hair on a woman before. I find myself running my tongue across my lower lip as I bring up the memory of that hair wrapped around my fingers. "Alexander, listen to me. I am n.o.body's wh.o.r.e," she whispers, coming so close to me that I almost reach up and touch my fingers to the royal blue of the silk blouse she's got on. I want to rub it between my fingertips and then tear it away, get another glimpse of that peach-pink skin underneath, touch my lips to her throat.

I feel myself getting hard and take a step back, just to put some s.p.a.ce between us. Whatever's happening, Olivia feels it too and blinks several times like she's clearing her head. Chemistry. Hormones. l.u.s.t. It's in the air, and it can't be helped. It's a natural, biological impulse. Fighting against this feeling is like fighting against the need to breathe. While Olivia seems content to try, I'd love to give in and see what we could do for each other.

The elevator doors slide open and Olivia turns away from me, climbing on and pressing the b.u.t.ton for our floor before I even get a chance to start forward. I reach out and take hold of the doors, pausing them in their tracks. Like everything else in my life, they obey. I move to stand next to her as she stares straight ahead and pretends I'm not even there.

"You'll be receiving an email as soon as you set foot in your office; be sure to read it."

Olivia tightens her perfect lips. I find my gaze drawn to the shape, the swollen roundness of her lower lip, the gentle curved bow on top.

I unb.u.t.ton my suit jacket and take a deep breath, closing my eyes against the sight.

Olivia shifts uncomfortably next to me. In this enclosed s.p.a.ce, I can smell her perfume a light, citrusy blend that tantalizes and ensnares. The scent mixes with the spicy cinnamon of my cologne, turning this little metal box into a torture chamber for my c.o.c.k.