“So you don’t think the Liquid shares are worth considering?” I ask Charlize about an hour after I asked her into my office.

She doesn’t answer me, but rather takes another minute or so reading something on her laptop. She has a spreadsheet that she keys share data into. It’s unlike any I’ve seen. It’s this that she’s currently reading.

“No, you should avoid Liquid,” she finally says, glancing up at me. “I’d be more inclined to put half that cash into O’Brien’s Gas and spread the rest equally across Bliss and DAA.”

I sit back in my seat and cross my arms. “Why Bliss? They’re not even on my radar. They never have been.” I’m so damn interested to know why she recommended them. This past hour with her has been fascinating. She’s given me a tiny glimpse into how her mind works, and to say she’s smart is a fucking understatement.

Her eyes light up at my question. “Bliss is undervalued at the moment. Couple that with the knowledge they’re about to announce the acquisition of LaPorte Travel, and you want to get them on your radar right now.”

“How do you know they’re acquiring LaPorte? Nothing has been reported on that.” If this is true, she’s right that I need to get in on Bliss now.

She smiles and leans forward as if she’s about to share a huge secret with me. She then proceeds to lay it all out for me, connecting a lot of dots I would never have personally put together. And that’s saying something, because I make it my business to connect dots. I’ve got a hard-on just listening to her talk. And watching her up close, seeing her so animated and passionate about trading, that only gets me harder. It’s the same passion I have. I could sit here for hours discussing this with her.

When she’s finished, I lean back in my chair and throw my pen down on the table. “Did your father share his love of the stock market with you? Is that how you got into it?”

She fiddles with one of her bangles. Half her arm is covered in an assortment of them. Considering she’s also wearing two necklaces and a multitude of rings, I’m guessing she loves jewellery. “How do you know my father loves the stock market?” I detect the surprise in her voice. If she knew me well, she wouldn’t be surprised to learn that I’ve taken the time to discover everything I can about her.

I lean forward. It’s killing me to not move as close to her as possible. “I make a point to learn everything about the people I want in my life.”

The air around us stills, the only sound to be heard is her sharp intake of breath. She’s silent for a few moments until she finally says, “Do you often meet women in a public bathroom, give them a job and then decide you want them in your life?”

I smile at her flippancy, but ignore it. Everything else about her tells me I’ve unnerved her. The way she’s twirling her hair, biting her lip and staring at me like I’ve lost my damn mind—she wants what I want, but she’s not ready to admit it yet. I can work with that. A good challenge always inspires me.

Reaching for her hand, I stop her fiddling with her hair and say, “I can’t say I’ve ever wandered into a woman’s bathroom and met someone who I later employed. But something’s telling me that even if I had, they wouldn’t be anything like you.” I shift to the edge of my chair so I can lean closer to her. “I’ve spent the last few days trying to get you out of my head, but I’ve failed. I close my eyes, and all I can see is you. I try to work, and all I can think about is you. I go to the gym, and you’re right there with me. It’s been a week since I met you, and all I want to do is spend time with you.” I pause for a beat, giving her a moment to catch her breath because I’m almost certain she hasn’t taken one since I started talking. I let her hand go and lean back against my seat to relax her. “But first I want to know how you became interested in the stock market.”

She takes a moment getting herself together, and then she bares a piece of her soul that only makes me want her more. “It’s true that my father loves the stock market, but he never shared that love with me. He was always too busy working. A lawyer has to stay on top of his game, he always told me. It was his father that made me fall in love with numbers, shares and the thrill of predicting the market. My grandfather spent hours with me teaching me everything he knew. He never made me feel like I was taking up too much of his time. I never felt as loved by anyone as I did him. It killed my mother when he died and left me most of his money. She had ideas for that inheritance and has held it against me for years that it came to me rather than her.” She stops talking suddenly and pulls a face. “God, I don’t know why I just told you that. I hate it when people talk about their money.”

Murdoch Cohen Senior would have died with millions. Old money plus his skill trading shares would have ensured that. He’s been dead for five years, so I figure Charlize has added to that fortune with her talents. Frowning, I ask, “Why are you working for me if you manage a portfolio of that size?”

She stares at me for a long moment before exhaling a long breath. When she starts talking, I sense that she really doesn’t want to be having this conversation. “I might be managing that portfolio, but I don’t have access to any of it until I hit thirty. My grandfather loved me dearly, and he ensured I had the knowledge to build on what he’d achieved, but he also knew I suck at budgeting. I guess he was hoping that by the time I turn thirty I might be better at managing my own money. At the rate I’m going, I’m wondering if he should have made it forty.”

I work hard not to show my amusement, but I fail. My lips curl up in a grin. “So let me get this straight, I can put you in charge of analysing risk, but I should never put you in charge of my budget?”

She pokes her tongue at me and smacks my chest. “Funny.”

This is the second time she’s smacked me. The last time, she regretted it. This time I’m not giving her that option. I quickly flick my hand out to grasp her wrist and hold it against my chest. “Every time you do that, you move me closer to kissing you.”

Her eyes widen a fraction. It’s almost unnoticeable, but I’m trained to notice every little thing about people. To figure out the risk involved with whatever they’re trying to sell me. I half expect her to pull away, but she doesn’t. Instead, she shifts so she can bring her mouth almost to mine. Her eyes stay glued to mine as she says, “I’ve imagined kissing you. Every damn day since we met.” She traces my lips with her finger. “I think that kissing you would become an obsession. Kinda like swimming naked with you would.”

Jesus.

Fuck.

Her voice is breathy as all hell. It fucking turns me on like I’ve never been turned on before.

And swimming naked?

I have no idea where that came from, but I’m down. She must love swimming, though, because she mentioned it the night we met, too.

“Obsessions can be good things, Charlize. You should try it and see.”

Her breathing picks up a little. Her desire fuels my own. Hell, at this point, I’m wondering if instead of kissing her, I’ll be spreading her out across this table and fucking her.

“There’s this slight issue,” she says, her gaze dropping to my lips. “Fucking your boss is frowned upon.”

If I thought I was turned on before, I don’t know what the fuck you’d call what I’m feeling now. Charlize only has to utter the words “fucking your boss,” and my body stirs like it hasn’t in a long time. A long fucking time to be exact.

I want her in my arms, her lips on mine.

I want her under me.

I want my cock everywhere in her.

I settle for my hand on her thigh, my fingers sliding under the hem of her skirt. “It’s a good thing I’m the boss and that I say fucking me would not be frowned upon.”

She licks her lips and places her hands against my chest. “I’m not sure it’s such a good idea, though. You might know facts about me, but you have no idea what I’m like when I’m fucking a guy. I mean, I might be a nutjob who goes to crazy town on you. And while I’m absolutely convinced that sleeping with you would most definitely become an obsession, I don’t know if you have stalker qualities. I am not about the stalker life.”

This woman is blowing my damn mind and I have hardly touched her.

I grip her thighs. “Charlize?”

“What?” Her question comes out on another throaty breath.

“I’m going to kiss you, so you need to be ready for that,” I growl, only barely managing to restrain myself from doing a lot fucking more to her than that.

She doesn’t reply. The only thing she does is inhale deeply while watching my lips. I take that as a sign she wants this as much as I do.

Taking hold of her face with both hands, I claim her mouth with a kiss I’ve been planning for days. Her soft lips respond to me in a way that kicks this up another notch. Touching her and tasting her is almost more than I can handle. I work hard controlling my urge to demand more than a kiss from her.

When she moans and crawls into my lap, straddling me, I almost lose my shit.

Her body presses hard against mine.

Her fingers tangle in my hair.

And she kisses me desperately, like the world is about to end and she needs to take everything from me that she can.

Fuck.

This is going to be so much more than a fucking kiss.

I grip her thighs, pushing her skirt up. When my hands find her ass, I groan. And when she matches that groan with one of her own and grinds herself against me, I can’t hold myself back any longer.

Holding her tightly, I stand and deposit her on the table.

She sits on the edge and wraps her legs around me, pulling me close. Reaching for the top button of my shirt, she undoes it and says, “You are going to be so much more than an obsession. Just so you know.”

“Thank fuck,” I mutter, lifting her top over her head and dropping it on the floor. I’m already obsessed.

It’s fucking difficult to drag my eyes from her tits. Or from the sexy-as-sin red bra she’s wearing. Hooking my finger under one of the straps and sliding it off her shoulder, I ask, “Do you always wear these kinds of bras to work?”

“What? Red ones?”

I shift the cup to the side to reveal her breast and bend to suck her nipple into my mouth. When I’ve had my fill, I say, “No, bras that make me want to bend you over and slam my dick inside you.”

Heat flares in her eyes and she rubs her hand over my dick that is still unfortunately inside my jeans. “Yes. I always wear bras like that. Everywhere. Life’s too short for ugly underwear. Wait ‘til you get to my panties.”

“Fucking hell,” I mutter as I step back so I can lift her skirt. Work is going to become a whole new experience knowing Charlize is in the same building wearing underwear like this.

Just as my gaze lands on the sexiest panties I’ve ever seen, my phone sounds with a text.

Worst fucking timing.

I’d ignore it, but I’m waiting on some information from Julian. Reaching for my phone, I say, “Give me a minute. This could be something I’m waiting for.”

She nods, and I swipe to read the text.

Julian: I’ve got the info you need. Just outside. Grabbing us a coffee first.

“Fuck.” My eyes meet Charlize’s. “Julian’s downstairs. He’ll be up in a minute.” I bend to retrieve her top off the floor, silently cursing my right-hand man for being so fucking dedicated to his work.

She puts her top back on and slides off the table. “See this is why fucking your boss is a bad idea. Cockblockers everywhere.”

I snake my hand around her waist and pull her close for another kiss. I need more before I let her out of my sight. When we end it, I promise, “This will be continued.”

As she scoops her laptop up, her eyes find mine again. “Like I said, your lips are obsession-worthy. I’m all for more of that.” She brushes another kiss across my lips and then she’s gone. And I instantly miss her presence.

Obsession?

She’s not fucking wrong.