Page 2 of My Office Rival

“Just checking to see where you hide the cloven hooves and tail,” I said sweetly.

He burst out laughing, white teeth flashing and eyes crinkling.Holy crap.He was crazy handsome when he smiled. I quickly turned back to my drink.

“Was I that bad?”

“You know you were,” I said shortly, signaling for another martini. He’d fixed all my typos (in track changes so everyone could see them), refused to give on some key provisions our client had requested, had cut me off on conference calls, and had generally tried to make us look bad.

“Are you going to murder me behind the bar later?”

I smiled despite myself. “No. It’s life. I just hope we aren’t facing each other anytime soon.”

“I like to win, Cynthia. I think you know that. And I think you like to win too.” He said the last part quietly, and I glanced over at him. The alcohol was buzzing through me, making me warm and bold.His cold eyes even looked inviting under the influence of a few martinis. The blond strands of his hair glinted, and I refocused on his perfect face.Those full lips, that stubble.I had a brief, insane urge to run my finger over his jaw.No more martinis tonight.

“How do you know?” I asked.

“It’s there. In your snappy responses on our calls, in the tone you take in your emails, hell, even in your markups.” He held my gaze. “I can tell it’s you holding the pen, not a junior. You really give a shit.” He casually sipped his drink, like he hadn’t just seen right to the heart of me.

“Thanks? I think?” I played it off, but my heart pounded.

“It’s a compliment. Believe me.” He stood up. “Anyway, I’ll let you get back to your drink.” He dropped a hundred-dollar bill on the bar and strode off. I watched his retreating form, wondering briefly what those shoulders would feel like under my hands, if the brief flash of skin I’d seen would be smooth. What did his body look like under that suit? I shook my head.Time to go. Before I did something insane, like run him down and ask him to go home with me.

I made my way to the elevator, feeling surprisingly okay on my heels. I wasn’t drunk, which meant IwantedJason Elliott. Ugh. That was embarrassing. Maybe it was time to get on the apps again and find someone to take the edge off. I didn’t date. Keeping my head above water at the firm took enough of my time, and frankly, what I’d seen of men didn’t make me want to get involved with one.

But when the elevator doors opened,hewas there.

“It’s you.” He quirked a smile from where he leaned against the wall.

“I thought you left,” I said, as I stepped inside.

“I went to check out the view from the roof deck.”

“It’s freezing cold out there.” I frowned. In fact, I could feel the cold coming off him in waves. It felt refreshing against my heated cheeks.

“The cold doesn’t bother me,” he murmured.

At least the inside matches the outside, I didn’t say. I leaned back against the elevator wall.Ignore him. The air warmed, the scent of hiscologne wrapping around me. Tension sat thick between us. Or maybe that was just the alcohol making my head swim? What would happen if I kissed him? I tapped my hand against the wall, wantingoutof this elevator and wanting to climb him at the same time. A warm palm over mine stilled my tapping, and I started.

“Do I make you nervous?” he asked.

“No,” I retorted. “Not at all.”

“Then why all the anxious energy?” He ran a thumb slowly over the back of my hand, and my focus arrowed to the contact.

He turned to me. Like this, we were closer than I’d thought. Just a scant six inches between our bodies, though he was roughly the height of a giant, and my nose came to his chest.

“You’re freakishly tall,” I muttered, ignoring his comment.

Those blue eyes laughed at me, that sinfully lush mouth tilted up.

“And you’re shorter than I thought,” he replied.

“Still tall enough to make you work for it,” I replied, and reddened. His gaze sharpened on mine and my stomach flipped. “I, ah, meant on the deal.”

“Did you?” he asked, holding my gaze. I could drown in those eyes. I wanted to touch his jaw, press my lips right to the crease of his throat. He’d probably smell amazing right there.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he muttered. His gaze had gone languid, his mouth slightly slack. I swayed forward slightly and his hand landed on my hip. A small, embarrassing noise fell from my lips.Worry about that later. Tomorrow, I could be embarrassed. Right now, I was a ball of need, my pulse racing, heaviness building between my legs.

I let my palm land on the fine wool breast of his suit and finally gave in.

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