Where the fuck is Ryland? I love the guy as much as I could ever love another man, but there are times when I worry that he takes a little too much for granted. Like the limits of my patience. He has saved my life in more ways than one. He keeps me from blowing up daily and God knows, my Engineering and Development department wouldn’t be in half the shape they’re in if it weren’t for him. He knows talent when he sees it and he knows how to keep them performing using a slick carrot and stick method he has turned into an art.

But I don’t take this slack shit lightly. I shouldn’t have to wait so damned long for a face-to-face. He’s kept me waiting exactly seventeen minutes. Sixteen minutes too long. The sound of leisurely footsteps outside the conference door sparks my outrage further. “What took you so long?” I look up from the monitor to glare at him.

He has the good sense to at least look cowed by my reaction as he pauses in the doorway. “Sorry,” he replies, as he steps aside to reveal the petite, curvaceous, sapphire-eyed blonde behind him.

Oh, I get it now. He’s been lounging around with our newest Senior Engineer, his protégé, Sam or whatever-her-name-is. He fooled me with that little nickname of hers, made me believe he was hiring a man. Not that there’s anything wrong with women working in tech—I’m not a monster from the stone ages—but for some weird reason, she grates on my nerves.

One of those girls who think it’s a good idea to wear shapeless, masculine clothes and call themselves by male names. My brain notes the way she has pulled her long, golden hair back in a tight ponytail. No makeup either, though she’s young and pretty enough to not need it. Even so, couldn’t she try to be slightly feminine? She’s wearing loafers, for God’s sake. Although, there isn’t much she can do to hide what she has going on under that crisp shirt and slacks. If I wasn’t so exhausted and put-out…My gaxe travel upwards to meet hers.

She lifts her chin and stares at me with those beautiful eyes, but in exactly the way a certain ex-wife of mine likes to do.

In fact, it’s the way she stared at me earlier today. Just like that, all thoughts pertaining to her body and what is or isn’t softly jiggling under her blouse—vanish. “Oh, I see. You’re the one holding up the works, then?” I ask.

She blinks, as though she doesn’t understand the question. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware that we’d perfected teleportation yet.” Then she shoots a look at a very flustered Ryland. “Was that done in-house?”

He grimaces, shrugging at me in an apologetic way. Women. What can you do?

I’d love to tell him right now what I’d like to do, but I don’t feel like giving her room to bring me up on charges of unprofessionalism or whatever she might come up with. I narrow my eyes. “Miss…”

“Harper,” she replies, all but rolling her eyes when I don’t remember her last name.

I do remember it, but I would rather have her think that I don’t. An age-old tactic. Make sure they know how unimportant they are. Keep them from getting too big a head about themselves. “Miss Harper, I don’t know how Ryland conducts business down in your department, but I think it’s only fair to inform you of my intolerance for backtalk. We’re not friends. We’re barely colleagues, and seeing as how you haven’t held your position for very long, I’d be very careful about what you say.”

“Fair enough,” she murmurs. But she doesn’t apologize.

I’m wise enough to know how to pick my battles and this isn’t one worth fighting. She’s just a stubborn little shit and she needs to be knocked down a peg or two. Or more. But I don’t have the time or the inclination. “I didn’t ask to see you both,” I say to Ryland, as I pointedly ignore Samantha’s gaze. She’s looking around the place as though she’s sizing it up for her own use one day. The audacity of this girl is unreal.

“I know, but Sam has been working on that bug I told you about…”

I can’t help myself, I turn to Samantha. “Excuse me. Can I get you a tape measure, so you can take note of the room’s dimensions for later use?”

A ghost of a smile flickers across her face. “No, no, I’m fairly good at eyeballing measurements.” And damned if her blue eyes don’t drift down to my crotch before bouncing back up to my face.

“As I was saying,” Ryland continues, all but stepping between me and the girl to get my attention. “Sam has been working out that bug we talked about.”

“Working it out?” I ask, intrigued. “Does that mean it’s been fixed?”

He winces. “Bad choice of words, I guess.”

“So it’s not fixed?” I look at her, one eyebrow raised.

“I was working on it just now, before being interrupted.”

“Nobody asked for you to be here.” I look at Ryland again, sending a silent message. He needs to get this girl in line and fast, or I can’t guarantee she’ll have a job with the company by morning. I have enough problems on my mind right now. There are a million engineers out there with the skills this girl has. I’m still not certain I understand why he had such a hard-on for hiring her. Unless it was a literal hard-on, but she’s not anywhere near his type. If anything, I’d expect him to end up with a woman like Regina.

“She knows more about the issue than I do, since she’s been working on it exclusively ever since we discovered it.” He turns to her with a scowl. “Tell him what you’ve found.”

She takes a deep breath.

I don’t miss the way her already generously endowed tits expand when she does. What the fuck is the matter with me?

Her voice is lower when she starts talking about her work, “I just ran another test, and there’s been no improvement. At around six-and-a-half minutes, the battery burns too hot and fries everything.”

“Son of a bitch.” I want to sweep everything off my desk and maybe throw the huge, mahogany monstrosity out the window while I’m at it. “How many different types of battery did you use?”

“The lithiums are the only ones with enough juice to sustain the sort of long-range travel you’re looking to support,” she points out. “They just burn too hot after that amount of time. The design has the battery casing placed too close to the motherboard, to make things worse.”

“So you’re faulting the design,” I mutter, my hackles up once again. The design is my baby, and she knows that.

“I didn’t place fault anywhere. I’m merely stating a fact. You want to be kept abreast of how we’re progressing. Well, that’s the state of affairs.”

“What about a higher-powered fan inside the casing?” Ryland suggests. “Anything to keep the temperature down.”

“Tried it—anything stronger is naturally…larger.” Her glance slips down to my crotch and color stains her neck and cheeks.

The first time she did do it in retaliation. She’d caught me checking out her boobs and it became an anything you can do, I do thing, but this time it was completely involuntary.

Suddenly, my cock takes over and thoughts pop into my head.

She’s actually fucking gorgeous. I could do things with her. Bend her over the desk. Fuck her until she screams.

I should have cleaned myself up a little.

She probably thinks I’m a complete mess. Easily rattled, poorly groomed.

Then, thank God, my brain takes over again. Damn it all, what the fuck am I doing getting distracted by one of my staff? I’m fighting for my life here. I’m just tired and off guard. I resist the urge to roll up my sleeves and glare at her. She is the cause of my slip of judgement. There is no place for sex pots like her in these kinds of jobs.

“It would entail a total redesign, which we all know there isn’t any time for,” she finishes, looking at Ryland.

“Find a way to better insulate the circuitry, then,” I bark.

She tilts her head to the side, eyes narrowed to slits. If looks could kill, I’d be six feet under.