I need to get this woman out of my head. I’m starting to lose sleep over it, which is insane. A meaningless one-night stand wouldn’t…shouldn’t….

She wasn’t a meaningless one-night stand.

I switch off my computer with a harsh movement. Whatever she was, she has to stop taking over my every waking moment. And most of my sleeping moments.

Carolyn Banks has infiltrated my brain. I can’t stop replaying the curves of her body, the sound of her voice, how she moved against me in the dark, the perfect way we fit together….

My cock rises against the fabric of my boxers, so I pull out a folder from the top drawer of my desk and pretend to review the papers inside. I already signed them.

The first thing I did when I got back to the city was to tell my father I wanted a job. Well, not a job per se, but something to do. I’ve managed the funds from my trust exceptionally well and made many profitable investments, but there are only so many hours I can kill at the gym down the block from my new penthouse. Now that the furniture is all arranged, I need something to occupy my time.

And keep my mind off Carolyn.

So far, it’s been a disaster.

My father made me the advisor for one of his company’s divisions in New York City, so I have a desk and an office and nothing to do but advise.

It’s been three days since I last saw her. The fact that I have a running count gets more pathetic by the day.

I text Noah to tell him to bring the car around. At the very least, I need to make plans for the weekend. I can spend tonight at the gym. That’s what I’ll do. I’ll get in a workout, then I’ll order in, and then I’ll make plans for how to end my seclusion by the weekend.

Eli Pierce should be a good place to start for figuring that out.

I text him on the way back to the penthouse, and he tells me they’ll be going to the Swan, as usual, on Friday night.

Fine by me.

My fingers hover over the keyboard. I want to ask him if Carolyn will be invited.

No. I’m not going to act like some schoolgirl who’s been slighted. I was the one who ended things with her, not the other way around. If she wants to act that way, on the other hand…

I don’t send the text.

But it’s still on my mind as I step out of the Bentley and enter the building. They’re still running the air conditioning against the fall heat that rises up from the pavement in late afternoon, and the cool is a welcome relief against my flushed skin. A day of thinking about Carolyn hasn’t improved my mood.

I reach the elevator and my stomach plummets.

Because there, in front of it, stands Carolyn Banks, in a black sheath dress that shows off her curves to perfection, her hair swept back into a flawless chignon, her purse slung over her shoulder, posture straight.

The teenage boy version of me wants to turn around and walk straight back out, but the man I’ve become will have no part of that.

It’s happening, like I knew it would.

I step up next to her. She glances to her left, once, then again, then returns to facing the elevator.

“I’m assuming you’ve called it already?”

She takes in a deep breath at the sound of my voice, then answers in a tone equally level. “Yes. I have.”

“Great.”

I don’t want to show any weakness. I don’t want her to know that I’ve been thinking about her nonstop since she walked out of the Four Seasons on Saturday. I don’t want her to think that I’ve been lying awake, thinking of the little sounds she makes when she comes, or that I’ve been dreaming of her firm breasts pressed against my chest.

The elevator door slides open smoothly, and we both step back to let an older woman step out and pass us as she walks into the lobby. A smile splits her wrinkled face as she moves past us. “Beautiful couple,” she murmurs, hooking one finger at the two of us.

Carolyn’s mouth opens like she wants to correct the woman, but she’s already halfway through the lobby. She’s missed her opportunity.

I step into the elevator and hold the door for her.

Carolyn doesn’t hesitate. She steps in beside me like she owns every piece of this building, and her confidence takes my breath away.

I shouldn’t be worried about awkwardness on her account. Only mine.

“Six,” she says, her voice clipped, emotionless.

“Got it.”

I press the button for the sixth floor, and then the button for the penthouse. Her eyes flick over to see which are lighted, and then she looks back above the door at the floor indicator as the elevator rises.

I swallow. Time is short.

“That was terrible—how things ended on Saturday.” It’s not an apology. It’s not admitting I was wrong. And it’s the closest I’m going to come.

Carolyn shrugs, a small movement. “It’s nothing that hasn’t happened before.”

Pain cuts through my chest. I don’t want to be a man like all other men. I want to be someone incredible. For her. For Elisa. But I don’t know why, and I don’t know how, to describe it.

“Well, it could have been better.”

She glances across at me, then turns her head to look into my eyes. Her dark eyes are bottomless, deep, as she assesses me. “Yes, it could have.”

The air between us is hot, charged. Does she feel it, too? Does she want to touch me as much as I want to get my hands on her? The elevator is too small by half.

I take the leap.

“Friday night, though…,” I let my voice trail off, an open door.

A smile quirks Carolyn’s lips, and her eyes dance. She sucks in a breath, then lets her gaze travel slowly down the length of my body, then back up to my face.

The elevator dings, and the door slides open. We’re at her floor.

“You’re right,” she says as she steps off. “I’m damn good.”