Makayla stepped into the office, wearing a tailored pencil skirt and a crisp white shirt. She had on a shade of deep red lipstick that made her feel sexy and confident, and her jet black hair was pulled back into a tight bun.

The staff cowered as she walked by. As they should, after the stunt they pulled. She still felt like firing the lot of them. The other part of her felt hurt that she’d been betrayed. It shook her confidence to a degree she’d never felt before. It made her want to start over completely, somewhere she had more control, somewhere that her vision was respected and shared.

She made it to her office, and Elliot gave her the run down for the day. There was still so much damage control to deal with that Makayla could barely stay focused on Elliot’s words. She was distracted by thoughts of Ronan and how easy it would have been for her to just stay. All she had to do was stay.

The staff had made the mess. Why should she have to pick up the pieces? Lorna had torn down everything Makayla had built in one swipe. If Makayla was so easy to replace, why was she even still here? She tore herself away from the spiral of negative thoughts and focused on Elliot’s words.

“Yes. I’ll deal with that after lunch,” she said, referring to one of their main advertisers who had threatened to pull every ad for the rest of the year. “In the meantime, bring me the proofs for next month’s issue. This edition has to be spot on, or we might all be out of a job.”  

Elliot scurried off to retrieve the proofs that were ready for the next month’s issue and Makayla turned around in her chair and looked out the window at the Portland skyline.

She’d loved this view since the first day she took the chair as editor in chief of Portland Living Magazine. Today, the busy streets below the towering skyscrapers made her feel cold and alone. She pinched the bridge of her nose and stood.

Striding over to the wall length window on her Louboutins, she couldn’t help but think of the safety of Ronan’s arms. What was the use of all this if she didn’t have the loyalty of her staff? What was the use of it if it all suddenly felt so empty?

She crossed her arms over her chest and looked down at the ground several stories below. The traffic moved slowly through the packed streets in the never ending river of cars.

She turned back to her desk and picked up her cell phone before dialing Mark’s number. Why not pick things up where they’d left them off? Mark was her steady thing. They knew each other. She knew what to expect.

The phone rang and went to voice mail.

“This is Makayla. I changed my mind. Call me.” She hung up the phone and put it back down on the table just as Elliot burst through her office door. Her eyes almost burst out of her head when she saw who walked through the door behind her assistant.

“Ronan,” she breathed, grasping her heart.

“Makayla.” Ronan crossed the room in several long strides and took her in his arms. Makayla’s heart burst inside her chest as Ronan’s lips crushed against hers.

He held her tight to his chest, holding her as if he never wanted to let her go. His hands roved over her body and down over her hips, until they cupped her round behind.

“I’ll just…be back later,” Elliot said, stepping backwards out the door.

When Ronan finally let her up for air, she felt dizzy and faint. Caught between surprise and relief, for once Makayla was at a loss for words. “What are you doing here?” she finally asked.

“I came to get you. I was stupid to let you go.” He held her tight to him and kissed her again. Heat rose between her legs and her nipples pebbled against her lace bra. Her full breasts crushed to his hard chest and he reached down to pull her leg up around him.

Makayla pushed away, taking a half step back. She wiped the side of her lips, knowing her lipstick had smeared all over her mouth. She straightened her hair and cleared her throat. Her mind was still in a fog of desire and confusion.

Not five minutes ago, she’d left a message on her ex’s voice mail. Now, Ronan stood before her, looking so delicious she could die. His eyes gleamed with desire and she could see the erection that had just pressed hard against her stomach.

If she hadn’t felt like a deer in headlights, she would have fallen straight back into his arms. “What do you mean you came to get me?”

“You are my mate. I’m here to claim you.”

The words ran through Makayla’s brain. What did he mean? What could he mean? “Maybe we should go somewhere to talk,” she said, trying to get control of the situation. Her body demanded she pull up her skirt and let him take her on the desk, but her mind knew that she had to play this more maturely than that.

If she messed with Ronan, if she hurt him, she’d never forgive herself. They just couldn’t work. She knew that. No matter how much she wanted to let him “claim her.”

“Come on,” she said, picking up her purse and phone. “Let’s go get a drink.”