I WOKE UP WITH A smile. On a Monday. This surely means the world is ending.

My tea in hand, my hairbrush standing in for a microphone in the other, I dance around my apartment singing nineties music while I get ready for the day.

While my moisturizer sinks in, I check my email. My inbox has a few junk mail pieces, but buried between them is a notification from the local university. I click it, humming the chorus to a song about opinions being like assholes.

It’s a breakdown of their undergraduate degrees and an online form to begin the application process.

Turning the music down and placing my tea on the counter, I go back to the form. Could I do this? Am I ready for this?

It was great in theory when I sent in the request form, thinking it would get lost in online traffic and I could say I tried. But it’s here. Looking at me. And all of a sudden, things seem real. And terrifying.

What if I do it and fail? What if I get in it and hate it? What if I can’t hack it?

What if I really am the little poor girl from the trailer park with parents that can already say, “Told ya so”?

Exiting out of the program, I down the rest of my tea and then head back to the bathroom. As I flip through my lipsticks, I think about Graham. He’s unlike Eric or the guy I dated briefly before him when I was eighteen. Graham is mature. Confident. He’s in charge, but not in a stroppy way. After you break through all that obsessive and relentless attention to detail and being a total control freak, he’s fun. I bet he’s even sweet. Plucking out a new tube I got yesterday, I know it’s the right shade. Red. I’m definitely going with red.

It’s the color of ripe cherries and I love it. I count to thirty, not letting them touch, and do another layer. Once that’s dry, I swipe on some gloss and check out the entire ensemble in the mirror.

It’s just what I was going for. Professional and studious, yet just a little sexy flair with the red lips, slightly off-the-shoulder top, and the highest heels I own that are daytime appropriate.

A bubble of anxiety rustles in my abdomen and as hard as I try to ignore it, it’s there. I feel it, nestled heavily in my stomach. I’m not sure what part of it I’m most nervous about. He clearly wants me to come back to work, but I’m terrified it will be weird even though talking to him yesterday helped.

Then it hits me. That’s why he called me. To make it less weird.

A full-body shiver takes over and I force the scent of him out of my thoughts. I can’t. Today, I’m determined to be Mallory Sims, Administrative Assistant extraordinaire. I will resist his power. I will not succumb to his prowess.

Yeah, right.

He fucked me on his desk. I’ve seen him naked. He’s felt me in ways only three men in my life have.

I don’t feel ashamed or guilty. Eric would call this “whore-ish” behavior, but it doesn’t feel that way at all. It’s fun. Liberating. It makes me feel wanted and I like it. A lot.

I just need to keep that in check.

Leaving the bathroom, I try not to trip over the cord to my curling iron.

Ten minutes later, I’m in my car and on my way to Landry Holdings to see what will happen. I’ll just read his cues and go from there.

“You’re not late.”

I jump at his voice, although I knew he was watching me. His door was open when I arrived and I pretended not to notice.

When I look at him, leaned against the doorframe, every bit of willpower is out the window right along with any lockdown I may have thought I had on my libido.

Fitted black suit pants and jacket with a light blue shirt and straight black tie make him look like the CEO he is while teasing me with what I now know is beneath. The sexiest thing he’s wearing, though, is a smug look on his handsome face. Monday morning has never looked so good. “Good morning to you too,” I say, rolling my eyes like I’m not affected by him. “Glad you noticed my punctuality.”

“And here I was hoping you’d be late and you disappoint.”

My belly clenches. “I can’t work over tonight. I’ll aim for disappointment tomorrow.”

“Why is that?”

“I have places to be.”

He strolls predatorily to the front of my desk and plants his hands in front of me. Leaning in, his eyes picking up the blues in his shirt, he narrows them. “And why is that?”

“I have plans.” I enunciate every syllable, letting my lips fall in a pout. He notices. The wheels turning in his head, he thinks for a long moment before responding.

“And what may those be?” he asks.

“Do you really want to know?”

“You’re damn right I do.”

I lean in so close I can feel the heat of his breath on my face. “I teach yoga tonight, Mr. Landry. Is that all right with you?”

“Is this a co-ed class by any chance?”

“Why? You wanna come?”

His chest rumbles, his gaze turning wicked. “Oh, baby, do I ever.”

“I—”

A sound booms behind Graham, interrupting me. Graham shoves off my desk and I look around him to see Ford walking in.

“Did I interrupt something?” he grins.

“Just letting Mallory know you and Dad are coming in this morning to go over the final security plans. She’s making sure my morning is open until lunchtime.” He glances at me and I nod. “What time is Dad coming?”

“He should be here any minute.” Ford stands alongside his brother and smiles knowingly at me. “How are you?”

“Good.” I return his smile and keep it as un-noteworthy as possible. As much like my thighs aren’t burning to be separated by his brother as I can manage. “How are you this morning?”

“Not as good as you, I don’t think.” He tosses me a wink before looking at his brother. “I’ll wait in the conference room. Are we using the one down the hall?”

“Yeah. I’ll be in there in a few minutes. Let me take care of a few things and grab the files.”

“You go take care of those things. I’d hate for you to be distracted.” Ford leaves, chuckling under his breath.

Once he’s gone, Graham shoves his hands in his pockets and turns around. He studies me carefully, like he’s not sure what to say.

“Graham, listen,” I begin, “I’m sorry about all this. I mean, I’m not sorry. Friday was amazing. I might have . . .” I start, then stop.

“You might have what?” he smirks.

“Nothing,” I smirk back. “On a serious note, I don’t want this to blow back on me. I need this job. I like working here. Maybe we could transfer me to another department or something.”

He bites the inside of his jaw. “No,” he says on an exhale. “That’ll never work. I think that would cause more problems than just leaving you here, actually.”

“Really? I was thinking maybe it would just put us out of sight, out of mind.”

“I didn’t see you all weekend and I couldn’t get you out of my mind,” he admits guiltily.

Forcing a swallow, I try to keep myself steady. The air thickens around us, white noise flowing passed my ears. “I couldn’t get you out of mine either.”

“We’ve found ourselves in a predicament.” He sits on the corner of my desk, his face sobering. “I need a little bit of time to get this figured out. I need you to work here. You fit in our company perfectly. But I do need to concentrate and I don’t know how to swing that.”

Our gazes hold on to the admissions, the energy between us crackling. His features soften and I want to reach out and touch his face, feel the smoothness of his cheeks, but I don’t.

“Is my schedule clear today?” he asks.

“I cleared it on Friday. Ford called and mentioned the meeting, so I went ahead and rearranged things. I also dug out a few files I thought we may need based on my conversation with your brother.”

Graham’s brows shoot to the ceiling. “Very good.” He stands and disappears into his office. When he returns, he motions for me to follow. “This should take most of the morning. Take notes, ask questions if you don’t understand something, and try to breathe.” He leans in and smiles. “Don’t forget to breathe.”

“Will do. And Graham?” I ask when his hand hits the door.

“Yeah?”

“I want you to know something.”

“What’s that?”

“You look incredible today.”

The corner of his lip tugs up. “Thank you. So do you.”

“I’m not sure how I’m going to handle this visual and then seeing you in action. I might have to, you know . . .” I wink.

His eyes blaze, his hand falling off the door. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“No, probably not,” I shrug playfully.

“Don’t you even think about it.”

“Well, it wouldn’t technically be in your office, so it wouldn’t be against the rules.”

“The rules are now amended to include all Landry property,” he declares.

I sigh, looking at him through my lashes.

“Mallory, for the love of God, stop fucking with me. I need to concentrate.” The door flies open and we start down the hall. Employees step to the side as we make our way down, mutterings of “Good morning, Mr. Landry” with a few swoons from women clasping notebooks to their chest can be heard as we pass by.

Once we reach the end of the hallway, he turns to me. “Behave.” Before I can answer, the door is open and inside we go.