Page 9 of Mailroom Delight
Chapter 3
Jason
* * *
Okay.
This was definitely not the way I imagined meeting the elusive Paige St. James.
Ask Paige.
I had to admit I got the impression she was gutsy, and her attempts to completely avoid me over the last nearly three weeks gave me a good indication of what this relationship of ours was going to be like.
Seeing her gorgeous ass practically on display for me as she hoisted herself up to the window above the door made all the thoughts I had for today’s agenda disappear.
However, I supposed my mind was hardly there this morning after reading her letter to me.
I laughed as she squirmed out of my arms and tried to straighten her clothes.
“You weren’t supposed to get that letter.” She tried not to stutter. Her beautiful face now completely red.
“But it had my name on it.” I smiled at her.
I liked the previous look she gave me. I got looks like that a lot, and I couldn’t help but take pride in it. Especially when the woman looking at me was sexy as hell.
Women were my weakness, and I was a goner when my interest peaked and attraction sparked.
Like now.
“I…” her voice faded away, and I wondered what she thought she could say to me.
“You think I need to get laid, or possibly have a sex marathon.” I stared at her pointedly waiting for an answer.
Her large green eyes dilated and the long, thick lashes that surrounded them cast a shadow on her red face.
“No. I mean. Oh God, this is so embarrassing.” Her hands flew to her cheeks.
“I’ll bet. You haven’t even met me properly yet and you already want to jump my bones.” I knew that would embarrass her further and I was right.
Her face actually looked like it was on fire, and I had to really try hard not to laugh.
“What?” her eyes grew wider. “No, I just said that. It wasn’t meant to get to you. It was a joke.”
“But yet I’ve seen stuff like this in your column.” I had seen it.
I understood her modern edge, and I was probably hypocritical when I suggested she bring more warmth to the table. But that was how I felt. Only for that. As in the advice column.
If she insisted on being the kind of woman who could rock my world in the bedroom, I wouldn’t argue against that.
No way.
However, for this magazine I noticed in my research there was a whole class of readers she wasn’t attracting.
The shy women. The women who didn’t believe in shacking up with the next guy if they just got dumped by someone they’d loved their whole lives.
The look of annoyance that crossed her face was exactly what I had expected from our first meeting.
“So, I’m guessing that your attempt to break in my office and get this letter of yours was a blessing in disguise, right?” I chuckled when she actually looked furious.
