Here’s a taste…

Nodding at the chair next to mine, he says, “Mind if I join you?”

I exhale my frustration. “I told your assistant that I didn’t have time for another meeting.”

Ignoring me, he sits. “Looks like you can squeeze me in.”

“So when you asked if I minded you joining me, what you really meant to say was that you were joining me.”

His eyes capture mine in a way that doesn’t let go. “I’m not a man who usually asks, Lorelei.”

There’s no denying the dominance surrounding this man. Everything about him declares control and power— from the way he stands tall with his shoulders back, to the deep, commanding tone of his voice, to the way he watches you with complete self-assurance. I can imagine he doesn’t ever have to ask for anything.

“I bet you aren’t.”

He doesn’t react to that except to wait a moment before saying, “I want to apologise for the way I spoke to you this morning. I was out of line with what I said and I’d like us to begin again.” His voice is oh-so-smooth, as if he expects for this to go his way.

“I also bet you don’t usually apologise.”

Again, no reaction. Except for the vein that twitches in his temple. His emotions are so contained; it makes me want to push him to see if I can provoke a response. I don’t cope well with people who hide what they are feeling or thinking. They make me second-guess myself more than I already do. “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”

“I’m not a woman who makes things easy for any man, Ashton.”

The hum of the offices around us fades into the background as a new tension settles in the room. Ashton’s body tenses as he exhales a long breath. His eyes never leave mine and I do my best to hide the way he unnerves me. I might have said what I did, but that doesn’t make it true, because as much as I don’t make things easy for men, I’ve never met one like Ashton Scott. I’ve never met a man who turns me on, frustrates me and flusters me all at once.

After a few moments of silence, he leans forward and murmurs, “It’s a good thing I like a challenge.”

Desire curls through me and I want to rant at the injustice of this world. Who decided that men should be granted bodies and voices and faces and—oh my God—eyes that have the ability to screw with women’s mental capacities like this? I need a moment to collect my thoughts so I stand. Smoothing my dress, I say, “I need a coffee. Do you want something?”

He rises and I notice his gaze taking in every inch of my dress as he does. “Black coffee, no sugar, thank you.”

His eyes on me have only flustered me more. I wish I’d had time to go home and change out of this damn dress before having to see Ashton again. The fact my boobs are practically hanging out has put me off my game. “You can stop judging this dress,” I snap, my ruffled state finally getting to me.

“That wasn’t judgement, Lorelei.” His deep voice moves through me as heat flushes my skin.

Oh dear, Lord, is there no end to his assault on my senses?

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