It was every bit as difficult as Jacey imagined it would be to awaken when her alarm went off at six the following morning. She was way too tired to eat, and her crabby boss could forget about her dressing up. Saturdays weren’t meant to be spent in suits and stilettos. She’d be earning her overtime in something comfortable, or he could finish firing her. At the moment, she didn’t care. With the last tendrils of sleep still hazing her vision, she dragged on a comfortable pair of jeans and soft camisole. She threw a pink button-up shirt over it, snagged a water bottle, and stumbled her way to the bus stop.

Luca was waiting for her in his office, one hip hiked against the edge of his desk. He was tossing a zip drive in the air repeatedly and catching it. She hated to admit it, but he looked incredible in his gray polo shirt and black slacks. Incredibly good looking and incredibly well rested. Nobody had the right to look that good so early in the morning, and she resented him on principle.

His gaze raked over her skinny jeans and untucked, candy-pink oxford shirt and settled on the two undone buttons at her neck.

She raised her chin, daring him to say something. The crisp, autumn weather outside hadn’t been enough to cool her. She was several weeks overdue for her monthly cycle and a rollercoaster of hormones, most of them a raging inferno. It’s all your fault my cycle is so screwed up. You and your stupid work schedule, so deal with it, Mr. Calcagni.

The answering smolder in his eyes made her temperature spike a few more degrees.

Then again, maybe I shouldn’t have undone so many of my buttons. She resisted the urge to curl her shoulders forward, wishing the shirt wasn’t such a snug fit. She could have sworn it wasn’t this tight the last time she wore it, but that was months ago. She was a little foggy on the details. Oxford shirts weren’t exactly standard wear for wives of NASCAR drives. Or centerfold models, for that matter. She’d spent far more time in sundresses and swimsuits in recent months than business casual.

A faint sneer curled Luca’s upper lip as he tossed her the zip drive. She managed to catch it even though she hadn’t anticipated the impulsive gesture. Her jerky movements awakened the first twinges of a headache. Great. It’s going to be another one of those days.

“Everything you need to get started is in the file marked Pending.” Unlike the heat of his gaze, his tone was clipped and impersonal. “I have a reservation at the Legends, but I’ll check on your progress in a few hours.”

He was headed to a country club while she worked her fingers to the bone? “You’re leaving?” She’d fully expected him to stay and crack the proverbial whip over her head. How dare he pull her out of bed on a Saturday if he didn’t plan to stay and work alongside her? She clamped her teeth together. He dared, of course, because he was the CEO of Genesis and Sons and could do anything he wanted.

“I promised to meet a friend for breakfast. She’d never forgive me if I cancelled.”

His reservation wasn’t even business related, which made the insult sting all the more.

He strode around her so quickly all she could do was glare at his retreating shoulders. The elevator door closed behind him, leaving her in the aromatic cloud of his aftershave. It was a heavenly, expensive-smelling scent that made her think of snowy mountains covered in pines.

She clenched her hands at her sides. Who was going to answer her questions about the account while he schmoozed the morning away? On a date, no less! Heaven knew he would make her redo her work in a heartbeat if it didn’t please him. Which it most surely wouldn’t without his input. She was the world’s biggest fool for not calling his bluff and walking out. Right now.

Unfortunately, she needed the money too much to walk out. After refusing her parents’ offer to reinstate her position at DRAW Corporation a few weeks earlier, she was pretty sure she’d burnt her last bridge there. If things failed to work out at Genesis and Sons, she was going to be job hunting or standing in line at one of the local soup kitchens. Amazing how quickly and how far a girl could fall after walking away from her family’s billionaire lifestyle and squandering her entire trust fund shortly thereafter.

C’est la vie. Dwelling in the past wouldn’t propel her forward. Mechanically, she took her seat and forced herself to get to work. She was less than inspired this morning. Her creative spark seemed to have gone in hibernation. Either that or it was too tired to work properly.

At it turned out, her creative streak wasn’t needed. Luca’s Pending file consisted of multiple audio recordings of a series of meetings over the past several months with a potential client. She hastily added up the times. There were more than six hours of meetings, and her first task was to transcribe them to a single document. Ouch! That was before compiling the usual slide presentation, meeting notes, handouts, sketches, and story boards. It was a good two days’ worth of work, which probably meant he expected her to work on Sunday, too.

On a growl of frustration, she went to work. As always, there was something a little hypnotic about listening to Luca in action. He was a natural-born negotiator. With his voice resounding through her headset, the morning flew by more quickly than she anticipated. By noon, however, the buzz of his various conversations with the prospective client were starting to run together. She needed a break.

Feeling dizzy, she pulled her headset down around her neck, shoved away her keyboard, and dropped her head on her arms. The dizziness increased and morphed into full-blown nausea. Not good. She yanked off her headset and dashed for Luca’s private bathroom, barely making it in time. Gagging, she emptied what few contents were in her stomach into the toilet. Afterwards, she leaned on the sink, hands shaking and insides quaking. The suffocating heat was gone, and a chill shook her. If she was falling ill, it was Luca’s fault. Him and the stupidly insane work schedule he’d created for her.

Voices in the office outside the door made her stiffen. It sounded like the monster himself was back, and he’d brought company. A woman. She turned on the faucet and bent to swish and spit out a mouthful of water. She wished she had a toothbrush on hand, but the stash of gum and breath mints in her top desk drawer would have to do

Curious about the identity of their guest, she opened the bathroom door and stood riveted. A brunette in a tangerine jacket and white golf slacks was standing on her tiptoes, plastered against Luca in full lip-lock. They were only a few steps inside the room as if they’d barely made it from the elevator before attacking each other.

Jacey stood there riveted while her heart wrenched painfully in her chest. He’d kissed her like that only a day earlier. Not that it mattered. She and he meant nothing to each other.

Outrage replaced her initial shock. He knew she was working in his office today. He could at least have the decency to curb his romantic flings in her presence. But that wasn’t the only reason she was angry. Or even the main reason. She gritted her teeth. She was jealous though she had no right to be. She was the one who’d insisted their make-out session had changed nothing between them. Well, she was wrong. She couldn’t stand the sight of him kissing another woman, a fact that made her furious with herself.

She debated her two choices: Quietly slip out the stairwell door without being noticed or get back to work, make a little noise, and create an awkward moment for them all.

Unfortunately, for Luca’s guest, Jacey hadn’t had a bite to eat all day, so her malicious side was the one kicked in.

She quietly returned to her desk, unbuttoning a fourth button of her shirt as she walked and revealing more of her lacy camisole beneath it. She reclaimed her seat and deliberately unplugged her headset. Taking another swig of water and popping in two breath mints — she really hoped the peppermint would settle her stomach — she pushed the button on her screen to restart the audio. The recording of Luca’s voice blared across the room in the middle of his client pitch.

From the corner of her eye, she watched the brunette flinch and break off the kiss. “Who is that woman?” she asked in cool, indignant tones. “I thought we were alone.”

“One of my new apprentices.” Luca’s voice was dismissive. Though he spared a mocking look in her direction, he didn’t bother introducing the two women. “I thought she was out to lunch.”

Really? They hadn’t discussed break times. He had to at least have an inkling his necking session was at risk of being witnessed by her.

“Oh. My. Lands,” the woman hissed. “That’s Jacey Maddox, isn’t it? I heard all about what you did for her in the news.”

Jacey offered a smile infused with false apology, one she’d perfected with years of practice. “I’m so sorry about the transcription recording, ma’am. I forgot to plug in my headset.”

“I see.” The woman’s head tilted to one side as she took in the open bathroom door and the overhead light Jacey had left on. Her gaze traveled the length of the distance she’d walked to her desk. A flush of angry embarrassment tinted her perfectly sculpted cheeks and plump lips; both were enhanced by surgery. Jacey knew all there was to know about cosmetic procedures, having attended dozens of consultations with friends. After learning the shocking list of risks and side effects, she’d been extra careful to keep her own figure in shape in the hopes of avoiding the scalpel herself.

“Mr. Calcagni.” She made a show of plugging in her headset once more before laying it carefully in the center of her desk. “If you’ll just take a peek at what I’ve done so far and let me know if you’re happy with my work.” She allowed a bit of a simper to creep in her voice and was rewarded with a tightening of his features.

He strode to her desk, jaw rigid and a warning light in his eyes.

She waited until his large frame blocked his date from view and wheeled back her chair a few inches. She bent to brush an imaginary speck from the ankle of her jeans, making him wait. When she straightened in her seat, the warning in his eyes had morphed to cynicism and something else. Bitterness.

So much for teasing him. Apparently, he still hadn’t forgiven her for the press release. Her stomach pitched sickeningly. Swallowing hard and pressing a fist to her mouth, she turned her screen around for him, but his gaze never left her face.

“Ms. Maddox?” A scowl settled across his brow.

She shot to her feet with a moaning sound and tried to push past him. He gripped her shoulders for a moment, warm fingers burning through the thin cotton of her shirt, but she shook her head wildly. He let her go, and she sprinted to the bathroom, slamming the door and emptying her few swigs of water and breath mints in the toilet. I want to die. I want to curl up in a corner of the floor and absolutely die!

She was on the brink of tears, which was even more humiliating. She rarely cried, and she wasn’t about to give her boss and his guest the pleasure of seeing her do so. She’d stay locked in the bathroom all day if she had to.

Fortunately, the muffled voices on the other side of the door faded after a few minutes. She washed her mouth out a second time and cracked the door. When silence greeted her, she stepped inside the room with an expulsion of relief and nearly choked.

Luca was seated at his desk. Alone. “Are you sick, Ms. Maddox?”

She tested her voice with a single word and prayed it wouldn’t bring on another attack of the dry heaves. “Yes.” The word came out thin and breathless sounding.

“I believe I gave you fair warning about the long hours.”

“That you did, Mr. Calcagni. And out of respect to you and your guest, I will take my flu bug home immediately and pray I didn’t share it with either of you.”

“Are you running a fever?” He swiveled his chair around so quickly that she jumped.

“Maybe. I’ve been hot all day.”

At her use of the word hot, his gaze dipped briefly to the open neck of her shirt. “Maybe you should see a doctor. I know of a few acute care centers open on Saturdays. Can’t afford to have you out of work for long.”

Oh, for heaven’s sake! She could be dying, and all he cared about was how far she’d gotten on transcribing his precious meeting notes. She stormed to her desk, saved her work, and emailed it to herself. Then she swiped the zip drive from its plug without bothering to eject it properly and held it out to him.

“If you still think I’m a corporate spy, take it. If not, I’ll go suffer in silence at home and keep working. Your choice, boss.” She was too miserable to bother hiding her sarcasm.

“That’s the kind of worth ethic I’m talking about. Document your hours, and I’ll make sure you’re compensated.” He offered a smile so grim it hardly qualified as a smile. She hoped his face broke from the effort.