Page 16 of Enchanted Hero
For twenty minutes.
And counting.
A dozen times she’d raised her hand to knock; a dozen times she’d lowered it.
How do you explain sending a naked picture to your colleague? Would he think she did it on purpose? Did he believe it was a game, a mockery, aninvitation? Would he imagine her naked body covered in ink every time he looked at her?
Her phone beeped. She’d considered throwing the thing out the window, but the act of defiance would’ve been far too costly. “How long are you going to stand outside my office?” the text read.
She stiffened.
Another beep. “Take all the time you need. I’m just curious.”
“Why that little–” She didn’t bother knocking, before shoving open the door and striding into the office. Alexander stood in the middle of the room, straight and tall, devastatingly handsome in his trademark Armani suit. He folded his arms across his chest, pulling the shirt tight against taut muscles. His expression was intense, his gaze the blade of a knife.
Was he imagining her naked, ink-covered body?
She swallowed, forced a strong voice. “How did you know I was there?”
“Magic.”
She glared at him. Did the man think to mock her interest in the mystical?
“Do you know why I called you here?”
Heat flared, threatening to consume her, as sweat slickened her body. She had to regain control. Perhaps if she imagined him wearing nothing but ink…
Six foot three inches of bare skin, solid muscles and ink. Sculpted plains, unending power. A broad chest, six-pack abs and under that…
The heat rose a thousand degrees.
“Are you okay?” The words were low, intense,knowing. He stepped forward, eating up the ground between them. She should retreat, but her muscles refused to respond as he stopped to tower before her. “You look very hot,” he whispered.
Oh yes, but not the kind he meant. She leaned in as blood rushed through her body, swelling her with desire. He looked ready to strip off her clothing, to see in real life what she’d already sent him virtually.
She closed her eyes, building strength against the man who would take all. She mustn’t forget who he was – Alexander Stone, one of the most powerful men in the world, a man who held scores of women at his beck and call. She would not be one of them.
She stepped back. “I’m fine.”
He peered closer. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She took a deep breath, prepared the speech she’d practiced a hundred times on the way here. “About the picture...”
“Yes, the picture,” he interrupted. “I admit I was surprised.”
She shook her head. “Not as much as I was.”
“Oh I doubt that.” He inched in, infiltrating her space. Even though he hadn’t acted overtly unprofessional, his power sliced through the room, as if he was marking his territory. “Of course, I knew the pieces would be outstanding, but I didn’t realize how stunning they would be.”
The breath caught in her throat.
“I must say.” He gazed directly at her. “I feel even better about my acquisition.”
She clenched her hands, digging sharp fingernails into her palms. Was he referring to the relics – orher? “What exactly do you think you own?”
He looked down at her cell phone, and suddenly the picture was back up. She gasped. “I deleted that.” She hit the trash button. “I don’t know what you think you own, but this was all a mistake. I was taking pictures and ink spilled everywhere, so I– I–” She hesitated.
“Got naked.”
