Page 67 of Zimyra

“You’re welcome. Also, I think I need to caution you, Axel.”

“About what?”

“About her. You’re getting too close to this girl.”

“I’m not.”

“You are. I can hear the passion in your voice when you speak about her. You’re not down there to play boyfriend. You’re there to do a job.”

“Pops?”

“Don’t tell me I’m wrong, Axel, because I know you.”

“Yeah, and when have you known me to get too close to a woman? I told you out the gate that relationships weren’t for me.”

“I know what you said, but what if I told you I once said the same thing?”

“I wouldn’t believe you.”

“Well, I did. I was running a successful business, making my money—I was on top of the world. I didn’t need anything.”

“Then how’d you end up with my mother?”

He snickers a bit, then says, “She was theonewoman I couldn’t walk away from. Every man will meetthatwoman no matter how often he tells himself he won’t.”

That’s a message that punches me in the chest. I don’t want to hear it, but I think I need to. It’ll help me refocus on what I’m supposed to be doing – furthering my business interest, not getting mixed up with a woman. My life isn’t here. This is all temporary. Working at Atlantic is temporary. Zimyra is temporary. My life is in Bridgeport – and it’s a good life. It’s a life people dream of. I have everything I ever wanted. I can’t give that up for a momentary lapse in judgment. Peter is right and I appreciate the reality check. I didn’t come down here to get mixed up with someone. I came to do a job. Zimyra St. Claire is a problem – a distraction – and while she’s a good one, she’s not a part of my plan.

I say, “I hear you, Peter—hear you loud and clear.”

“Good. Keep your head on straight, son. You’ll be back here in no time. Oh, and let me know how that paint thing goes.”

CHAPTER 19

I pull up at theoffice feeling like an idiot. Okay, not necessarily an idiot, but I’m mad at myself for crossing the line with Axel. For being too weak to resist his advances. It bothers me, yet, I still have butterflies. The memory of last night has me whirling with emotion. I shouldn’t have kissed him. If only I’d kept my lips to myself.

My aim this morning is to pretend it never happened. Hopefully, that will work. Knowing Axel, it won’t, but I have to do something.

After unlocking the door, I make a pot of coffee and check the bathroom for cleanliness. The roll of toilet paper is low, so I change it. I refill the hand soap dispenser, then look up at the ceiling. That reminds me – I didn’t add the leaky ceiling to the maintenance list. How did I forget that? Probably because it hasn’t rained in a minute.

Walking out of the bathroom, I stop dead in my tracks when I see Axel standing in the hallway – his tall, muscular, lengthy frame blocking my way to the lobby. I was too gone in my thoughts and completely missed the door chime.

“Axel, what are you doing here?” I glance at the watch on my wrist and say, “It’s not even 8:30 yet?”

He’s wordless, but that stiff walk toward me tells me all I need to know.

“Axel,” I say, feeling my chest rise in and out quickly as he walks right up to me. He places his hands on my face and pulls my face to his. Our mouths slam together. Converge in madness. Marry in fervor. He kisses me like last night was just the appetizer. Now, he’s getting the full course, sucking on my tongue while his lengthy body holds me against the wall. I lose myself in the kiss, almost forgetting I’m at the office – at my place of business, especially when he releases my face and grabs my wrists, stretching my arms above my head, holding them against the wall, too. He kisses me like an expert – like those perfect TV kisses that are well-edited and have gone through many takes, but this is a spontaneous kiss. There are no do overs and there doesn’t need to be. It’s messy, raw and wild. I try to hang on and handle the force of his mouth, of his desires.

He groans.

I moan.

The room spins.

This is insane.

It shouldn’t be happening, yet I don’t want it to stop. Where does this craving come from? I haven’t felt anything close to this before last night. It’s insanity. It’s otherworldly. It’s overpowering. My little heart can’t take this early-morning beating.

“Mmm,” I breathe. “Axel…”

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