ly quiet-almost solemn-and the thick carpeting muffled the sound of her sensible heels. Clutching a stack of heavy docu
ly rehearsing the lies she needed to tell to gain access to the penthouse again. All she
rounded the corner near the m
of a man-the unmistakable feel of a
ages scattering across the mirror-polished floor. Eleanor stumbled backward, catching her heel awkwardl
d: cedarwood and bergamot, underscored by a deep, musky note. It wa
murmured close to her ear, the vibration
ome in a dark, high-end suit, his expression utterly composed. "Cruz?" she whispered,
in a sharp grey suit and holding a t
t over the documents scattered on the floor before shifting to the two of them. "Th
nt Este
. He wasn't just her best friend's wealthy, handsome older brother; he was the CEO o
t and shock washed over her. Her mo
l distance, but Cruz's arms held her waist firmly, preventing her from pulling away. The
, his lips grazing he
murmured, his voice a dangerous, dark-velvet whisper that mad
ied and furious that he would say something s
on Eleanor's face. "Cancel my afternoon schedule. Miss Thompso
widened as she
nd, his long, elegant fingers gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. His thumb brushed against her burni
ispered-his voice dropping to a low, seductive register mean
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