Page 12 of Tempting Eden

The carriage stopped, and the doors opened. I waited for her to walk out first. She didn’t. I chanced a glance at her eyes, wondering why she stood still. The elevator doors slowly closed as we maintained our positions.

“What did you mean, then?” she asked.

I considered her for a moment before choosing my words. “I meant that you have a certain type of beauty. You are attractive. But not in the same sort of way as a lot of women.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “What makes me so different?”

This wasn’t a proper conversation between employer and employee. I knew it, but I didn’t care. I’d watched her long enough to know what I thought of her. I’d already made up my mind.

“You aren’t a ten, if that’s what you’re asking me.”

She smiled. No hurt in her eyes, only confidence. “No?”

“No. But there’s more to you than looks that makes you beautiful.”

“Like what?”

I didn’t want to lose my job. I’d kept myself restrained, reserved, under wraps. It was for the best. But here she was, trying to goad me into a response. I decided to give her one.

“The way you run headlong at any situation. The way you feel at ease even when you’re under pressure. The way you seem to solve problems before they even begin. The way you don’t give a damn what your competition thinks of you. The way you aren’t afraid to tell people how you feel, what you think.” I stopped myself before I went any further. This repartee was just another test, her trying to judge me, measure me.

She took a small step toward me, invading my space. I looked down into her green eyes, giving her stare right back to her until she blinked. Something more than air existed in the space between us. I wanted to grab her waist, to link myself to her somehow. I wanted to claim her, to show her which one of us was truly in charge.

I maintained my stance.

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” she asked.

“Not even a little bit.”

She had no idea. The things I could do to her. The things I’d already done to her in my mind while I lay awake in the apartment behind Ms. Temple’s house every night. It wasn’t some ridiculous fantasy where the secretary bangs the boss. It washer. Something about her that I couldn’t quite define, but that I wanted, all the same.

“Does the way I do business bother you? The way I speak to you?”

I shook my head. “This is a job. You pay me to assist you. I’ll do that in any way I can.”

She cocked her head to the side. “You think this conversation is between a boss and her subordinate?”

I wasn’t sure what she meant. My face must have reflected my confusion.

She dropped her arms before reaching up and smoothing a few stray strands from her face. “I realize I pay you, that you work for me. But ever since that first day, when you won the business from Poole, I haven’t seen you as a subordinate. Can I teach you things? Yes. Do I have more experience? Yes. But you have certain intangibles, things I haven’t seen in any of the others in your position. Don’t sell yourself short.”

She couldn’t have surprised me more if she’d backhanded me and spit in my face. Actually, that would have been easier for me to process. This way of hers, the ability to put me at ease while simultaneously stunning me, made me wonder if she was gaming me somehow. But her frank gaze said differently. The truth was there in her eyes.

She reached past me and hit the button to open the doors. “Let’s get some lunch.”

CHAPTER THREE

EDEN

WE SETTLED IN ATthe Greek eatery a couple of blocks from the Galway building. Jack had been silent for the walk, once again keeping his thoughts to himself.

I’d gone too far with him on the elevator. I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to keep prodding him until I got some pushback, some real emotion. He’d come through for me and then some. I’d been rewarded in his words, the fire that lit in his eyes as he looked down at me. He was so close I’d wanted to touch him, to just stroke his cheek if only for a second to see what he felt like.

The moment was gone. I resolved to stop baiting him so much. But I knew I was lying to myself on that score. The more he revealed, the hungrier I became to know more about him. Is this what addiction was like?

We sat at a café table near the warm window as we waited on our food. The restaurant was perennially busy, crammed with worker bees from the downtown buildings. I recognized some clients here and there, giving them nods and waves. A couple gave a second look at Jack, no doubt wondering where I’d found such a handsome lunch date. But their manners kept their curiosity in check, and so we were allowed to eat in peace.

The server set our food down, and we prepared to dig in. The din of the restaurant was a low, soothing background. Lawyers to our right discussing a high-dollar litigation, a table of some sort of investment professionals behind us talking about points and rates. I liked the noise. Thornfield’s offices were always too quiet for my tastes, too serious and stuffy, especially for a sales office.

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