Wounded Heart.
el clearance find from last season suddenly felt inadequate in a building where even the doorman
een me drunk and probably made
ould fund my college debt, I tried to focus on my work rather than the excessive display of wealth surrounding me. The open office layout might have
rkspace, making several heads turn. I caught Sarah from accounting shooting me a sympathetic l
orcing myself to breathe norma
door behind me, and I caught a whiff of his cologne. Why did he have to smell so good
ined standing. A Wall Street Journal lay open beside his laptop, his face gracing the co
first week?" he asked, his
g not to notice how his charcoal suit
gainst his desk right next
lready impressed the creativ
s fidgeted with the hem of my skirt, painfully aw
e correct
ss walls, I could see our reflections-him, the picture of success in his perfectly tailored suit, an
that would be
ng involuntary shivers down my spine. "Ar
between us. The city sprawled below us through the panoramic windows, a r
gs professional." He follow
drunk and letting me drive y
t night, of sinking into buttery leather se
as a mi
s presence overwhelming. "Because I haven't b
me forget what I was going to say. His hand reached up, fingers barely brush
d my name made my knees weak. "There's
he wall. "There's nothing between us
the wall beside my head
he eyes and s
ying moment, I thought he might kiss me. Even more terrifying was the realization that part of me w
irmly, ducking under his
ng a hand through his dark hair. "
e me. "Concerning your employee in your office? What would
d in his eyes-hu
apologize. It won
desperate to escape. "Is there anythi
l tone, but there was an edge to it. "The Clayton account
ton account was o
e only been
est person for the job." He return
te tonight. We'll go ov
My stomac
st
ers of his mouth. "Afraid you can
ck, then immediately regretted my boldnes
dmiration flash across his face as he leaned
t. You probab
on shaky legs, one thought kept circling in my mind: How was I supposed
following my every move, and I