Abena shoved in the drawer and closed the cabinet.

“Hey Abena, want to come to the pop-up tonight?”

Crystal, Santiago’s admin, stood at the open door of the records room. She had dark eyes, wavy dark hair that touched her shoulders, and an infectious smile. Having moved from Birmingham, Alabama, she’d only been working at Galiano Holdings for a little while. She had previous restaurant administration experience and had been hired specifically to support Santiago in his new role. Despite her short tenure at the company, she’d come out of her shell very quickly and become the go-to person in the office for all the hot happenings in Miami.

Abena shook her head. “No, thanks. It’s the middle of the week, and I have to finish up here. Then I’m going home.”

Crystal pouted. “You sure? This club is supposed to be really hot.” Her eyes glimmered with excitement.

Pop-up clubs were all the rage now. The trend had started in New York and worked its way down to Miami. Restaurants, strip clubs, and old warehouses were the most popular places for the clubs to take place. A DJ plugged in a turntable, set up speakers, and with an adequate amount of drinks and food, people partied the night away.

“I’m sure. Maybe some other time.”

Crystal pointed at her. “I’m going to hold you to it. Good night.”

“G’night,” Abena called back.

She locked the file cabinet and then walked down the quiet hallway to her office.

Another long day. All because of Santiago, who’d insisted on another one of his ridiculous meetings to make sure “everything is going okay,” while Esteban was out of the country. Combined with his annoying habit of questioning every move she made, his management style was the reason she hadn’t left for home yet. She spent so much time checking in with him she’d had to finish her tasks at the end of the day.

Then, of course, he left early today, and according to her conversation with Crystal, it was a private appointment he hadn’t shared with her. Meanwhile, Abena had to listen to an angry tirade from Marc, who’d asked her to join him for dinner and been unhappy when she told him she had to work late. He’d hated her hours before, but he despised them now, thanks to Santiago being a micromanaging slave driver.

Abena stretched her arms above her head and wiggled her toes. She’d kicked off her shoes over an hour ago. Dropping into the chair behind her desk, she read an email from Esteban and fired off the required response before shutting down the computer.

She wasn’t ready to head out yet. Going home to her condo didn’t appeal at the moment, and there was no point in going over to Marc’s. She didn’t want to face his wrath.

She needed to wind down. Relax a little. She had one of two choices. She could go down to the beach and listen to the waves crashing against the shore. At night, it was particularly soothing, reminding her of her home village and spending time with her father and the other fishermen, laughing and talking after they’d spent all day casting their nets beneath the hot sun.

Relaxation option number two was much closer and didn’t include getting sand between her toes. An option she was inclined to take.

Abena removed a sherbet-colored two-piece bathing suit from the drawer of her desk. Turning down the blinds for privacy, she changed into the bikini. It was her favorite. The bright color popped against her dark skin, and she’d received many compliments the one time she’d worn it in public with Marc, but she only wore it in private now. He thought it was much too revealing.

With a huge beach towel wrapped around her waist, she took the elevator to the rooftop. Using her key fob, she let herself onto the roof and dipped her toe in the cool water of the pool. Tilting back her head, she closed her eyes and listened to the distant sounds of South Beach at night—music, mayhem, and honking cars. Gradually, the sounds receded, and she embraced the quiet in her own mind, traveling back to her younger days in the village where she’d spent the first half of her life.

After her father sold his catch for the day, sometimes they’d take the fish he’d set aside for his family, and cook out on the beach, beneath the stars and the waving tree branches. Without any light except the constellations above, it sometimes felt like they were in their own little world. Just the three of them. Her heart ached at the memories and the loss of a father who’d gone too soon.

Those were happy times. Times when there were no expectations—only the vast openness of nature—and her mother’s contented smile.

Abena dived into the pool, slicing her arms through the cool water. She swam back and forth, letting the mind-numbing exercise release the vestiges of stress from the day and give her a boost.

On her fifth lap, she got the distinct impression she was no longer alone. When she reached the edge of the pool, instead of swimming back, she turned around and saw a figure standing in the shadows.

Santiago walked slowly out of the dark and into the light, wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and navy slacks. His gold jewelry glinted off his tanned skin. She usually had a sixth sense where he was concerned, and must have been very distracted not to notice he’d arrived poolside.

“How long have you been there?” she asked, her breathing labored from the exertion of the exercise.

“Not long.” He shoved his hands into his pockets.

“It’s not nice to sneak up on people.”

“I didn’t sneak. I live in this building, remember? I came up here to get some air and clear my head.”

“So did I, but now you’ve ruined it for me, so I guess I’ll leave.”

“The space is big enough for the two of us.”

As far as Abena was concerned, no space was big enough for the two of them. She swam over to the side where he stood. Hoisting herself out of the water, she found Santiago had lifted her towel from the lounge chair.

She reached for it, but he pulled back his hand. “Do you mind?”

“Yes, I mind very much.” He flicked his gaze over her.

“Give it to me.”

“Careful,” he purred.

Abena swallowed against his silent inspection and the way his hungry gaze enveloped her. “The towel.”

“Oh.” His face held a disarming smile as he held the towel aloft, and she snatched it out of his hand. “What are you doing here so late?”

“I was working,” Abena said in a snippy tone, wrapping the towel around her torso.

“You have a nasty attitude, you know that?”

“And you’re annoying, but you don’t care.”

“Tell me. What do I do that’s so annoying?” Santiago folded his arms across his chest.

“You really want to know? How about every chance you get, you call me into your office to nitpick every decision I make? I’m not used to working under those kinds of conditions. Esteban trusts me and has trusted me for years to do an excellent job.”

“Well, you have to prove yourself to me. I’m the vice president of operations. You need my approval for anything you do,” Santiago said evenly.

“Oh really? I have to get your approval for so much, please, tell me, what other decisions should I get your approval on? Should I get your approval when I order my lunch? Should I check in if I need to blow my nose?”

His eyes glinted like hard marbles. “You think this is funny.”

“Believe me, there is nothing funny about this situation.”

“I have worked my ass off to be where I am, and I don’t have any intention of letting Esteban down.” He raised his voice a little.

“You think you’re the only one who’s worked hard? So have I. And I don’t need you coming in here and undermining my authority—”

“Authority?” His eyebrows flew up.

“Yes, authority,” Abena replied, doubling down. “Or questioning my abilities.”

“What makes you think you have any authority?”

The incredulous expression on his face increased her vexation. “I have always been able to make decisions based on the guidelines long established in this company. Let me do my job. I’m good at what I do.”

Santiago’s eyes narrowed. “Let’s get one thing straight. While Esteban is out of the country, you work for me. So, whatever you think I’m doing wrong is irrelevant. Comprendes?”

There was no getting through to him. He was bound and determined to make her life miserable, and there was very little she could do to stop him. All because she’d rejected him.

“Comprendo todo.”

“Perfecto.”

Abena growled in her throat. “I wish Esteban had never given you this position.”

The corners of his mouth lifted into a saccharine smile. “I need you here bright and early tomorrow morning. Six-thirty.”

“What for?”

“Work.”

“What work?”

“You’ll find out when you get here at six-thirty. That’s when I need you in the office for the rest of the week.”

“Will I get to leave early?”

“We’ll play it by ear.”

“That’s preposterous.”

“That’s what I expect.”

“You’re being an ass.”

“You should try being nice to me.”

“I don’t know if that’s possible.”

He continued to wear a ridiculous smirk on his face, completely unmoved by her insults. “Don’t forget, querida, I’m in charge. You answer to me. You do as I say.”

“I see the power has gone to your head. You drive me out of my mind!” With a huff, she marched around him, but Santiago grabbed her upper arm and pulled her back around to face him.

She jerked away, her skin heated where he’d touched. “Don’t touch me.”

They glared at each other.

“You think you don’t drive me out of my mind, too?” Santiago muttered a few expletives, in Spanish. “Do you think I like coming here every day and seeing you? Do you think I get pleasure out of it?”

“Not my problem.”

“No?” He stepped closer, his voice lowering. “I think it’s a problem for both of us.”

“It’s your problem, not mine. All I do is come to work.”

“You don’t simply come to work. You know exactly what you do to me.”

“I’m not doing anything to bother you. What are you accusing me of?”

He laughed softly. “As if you don’t know.”

“No, I really don’t. What am I doing?”

The silence dragged on for so long, she didn’t think he’d answer. Finally, he muttered, “It’s the perfume you wear.”

Every time he looked at her with such intensity, a knowing look in his eyes, he made her pulse race. His searing gaze seemed to see straight through the towel and her suit, exposing her body to him.

“I don’t wear perfume. It’s a cream.”

“The way you dress.” His voice sounded strangled.

Abena swallowed. “My clothes are not revealing.” Modesty had been beaten into her head over the years.

“The way you smile at everyone but me.”

Quiet.

Yes, she did that. She couldn’t deny it. “You don’t inspire smiling.”

“Why not?” He came closer, and she knew she should move back, but didn’t. She stayed with her feet firmly planted on the concrete, mesmerized by his eyes and the soft, lulling sound of his voice.

“That’s just the way things are between us.”

“Not before.”

“Obviously, our work relationship has changed. For the worse.”

His finger dragged along the curve of her cheek.

Abena turned away from his touch. “Don’t,” she said, with as much force as she could muster.

“I think you have feelings for me.”

“I think you have an exaggerated opinion of yourself.”

“Do I?” His breathing deepened as he tilted her chin up.

“Santiago…I—can’t. We shouldn’t.”

He brushed his thumb over her lips.

“Please,” she whispered, in a helpless, defeated sound of submission.

He angled his head closer. “Please what?”

Her gaze landed on his mouth. That mouth knew her body in a very intimate way. Her nipples hardened, begging to be sucked. She wanted him to do what he’d done to her before, and so much more. But she shouldn’t. Not here. Not now. It wasn’t right.

“You torment me,” he murmured. “You torment me. Maldita sea. Why can’t I get you out of my mind?”

And then he kissed her.