I stare at the numbers on my screen, and try not to think about what happened last night. Trying to concentrate on reading and taking notes is a hell of a lot more difficult when your mind keeps wandering.

Wandering to the feeling of Tom’s arms around me, the feeling of his mouth on mine.

The security guard who caught us beat a hasty retreat, and by sheer luck I don’t think he recognized me. But getting caught like that by someone who did would have been bad.

I rub my forehead and look at my screen again. My report to the team is this morning, and I need to present a professional front. As much as I’d like to, I can’t spend the whole time rambling, and surreptitiously ogling my boss.

“Hey, uh, Ronnie.” Adam’s frizzy hair looms in front of me, the light behind him giving him a sort of halo effect like an Orthodox religious artwork. Our Savior in a badly-fitting three-piece. Wow, cool. “Good luck for your presentation, huh? I know you’ll knock ‘em dead.”

“Thanks, Adam. Honestly, it’s just summarizing stuff like we all did at college. And it’s not like much of this is very relevant anyway.” I stand up and stretch. “Where are we going for lunch?”

* * *

Filing out after the presentation, Mike congratulates me. “Ronnie, that was really well done; I’m glad we’ve got you on board.”

“I’m glad it was useful; I’d been concerned about it being too simple, but it sounded like people got something out of it.”

He laughs. “Man, in this business, nothing is too simple; you’d be amazed. See you tomorrow.” I watch him go whistling down the corridor, and wonder about what I should be doing now.

“Ms. Haas, have you got a moment?” I hear Tom’s voice behind me, and smile before I can stop myself. Turning around I see him leaning back against the conference room table, and I get a sudden flash—climbing on top of him, pressing myself into him. From his eyes, I can tell he knows what I’m thinking about.

“Sure, Tom.” I’m determined not to give in right away, so I’m exquisitely polite as everyone else files out, and we’re alone. “How can I help?”

“I wanted to…congratulate you on your…excellent performance. I’d expected a fair bit, but you really exceeded my expectations.”

“Oh really?” I cock an eyebrow, a skill I’ve been practicing for some time now. “I’m glad you appreciated it. Some of it was, well, improvised.”

“Oh, believe me, I know. In fact, I think the impromptu parts were my favorite.”

“Well, there’s plenty of room for improvement. With practice, I think you’ll be even more impressed, if I do say so myself.”

He shifts his weight, and manages to look like he’s wanting to take hold of me right then and there. If we weren’t in the middle of the damn office I’d give you a repeat performance, right here and now.

“I wonder if you’d be available this evening to…discuss our work further? I’ve got some more pressing issues on which I think your opinion would be really valuable.”

“Well, now.” I cock my head to the side, and put on a quizzical expression. “I’m always happy to go the extra mile if it’s going to benefit the team. Shall I meet you in your office?”

He grins. “This time, perhaps an out-of-office location would be better. Meet me in the foyer at 5.30pm, and we’ll continue our…research at my place.”

* * *

Going up in the elevator at Tom’s apartment building, I look at him carefully. We’ve been talking solely about work for the short walk from the office back to his place, and I’ve confined myself to only the occasional fantasy about taking him by the tie and kissing him as soon as we’re on our own.

“Something on your mind, Ronnie?” I try to find a way to say yes, what you look like out of that suit, and settle for just a smile.

“I’m looking forward to seeing your apartment. I’ve wondered what it looks like, to be honest.”

“Uh huh. What did you have in mind? Some sort of smooth bachelor pad, perhaps?”

“Mmmm. Maybe. A workout bag in one corner? Maybe a tank of tropical fish? A bed on a raised dais?”

Tom chuckles aloud. “Ms. Haas, you wound me. Sometimes I really wonder what kind of guy you think I am. This swinging man-about-town lifestyle you imagine I lead is very flattering, but you have to admit it’s just not coherent with the observed data. I’m at work most of the time, remember?”

“Well, okay. You’ve got me there. But, there is one question I have to ask.” I turn to him, and move closer.”

“And what, pray, is that?” He’s taller than me, even in my heels, and he looks down at me, green eyes right on mine.

I take a deep breath. “Where…do you keep all the suits?”

Tom bursts out laughing. “Touché. To be honest, I do have a very large closet, and I’ll confess to spending more than I should on tailoring.”

“Ha! Got you! I knew you were a fashion plate.”

“What can I say? It’s an essential investment for investment. Or something”

“What? That doesn’t even make—”

“Yeah, I know. Don’t think too much about it. Ah, this is our floor.”

The elevator dings, and we get out. As we do, Tom puts his arm around me lightly, and guides me out. The gesture is completely unconscious—I can tell he’s not even looking at me. Always taking care of people, despite what you say.

A little way down the hall, there’s a door, with ‘18’ on it. “Are you the only apartment on this floor?”

He nods. “I am, but it’s not that grand. Half the floor is plant and maintenance stuff. It makes it noisy at times, but it means I don’t have to worry about bothering the neighbors.”

The door clicks open, and I stare inside.

Whoa. Not what I expected.

* * *

“You look…surprised, Ms. Haas.” Tom is solicitous, clearly enjoying my amazement.

“Well, yeah. It was the full-length cardboard cutout of Doctor Who that did it.”

“Ha. There’s a Dalek in the bathroom. A small one; it’s not that big an apartment.”

“Mmmm. How could any girl resist this?” I walk across the living room to get a closer look at the Millennium Falcon suspended from the ceiling by the window. It rotates gently in the wind from the ceiling fan, and I hear him closing the door behind me.

“Well, the answer to that question is ‘quite easily,’ as it happens. Besides, you’re kind of the first visitor I’ve had for quite some time. Please, sit. I’ll find us some wine. And a whiteboard.”

“A whiteboard? What did you have in mind?”

Tom winks at me. “Work, of course. You don’t think I lured you up here with purely evil intentions, did you?”

Dammit, Tom Macaulay.

“Well, the thought did cross my mind.” He busies himself in the kitchen, and I hear the clink of glasses.

“Shiraz.” The pop of the cork brings me back to myself, and the comforting glug of wine into glasses makes me focus on his face. Taking my wine glass, I settle back on the couch and look at him.

“You are a man full of surprises, you know that?”

“Well, I try to be pretty transparent, although I think sometimes people just see me as a pretty face.” A pained expression coupled with a theatrical sigh.

“You’re lucky I don’t have anything to throw at you right now. This wine is far too good to waste on that comment.”

“I will count myself fortunate to have escaped serious injury at your hands.”

“You haven’t escaped yet.” I try to smile evilly, and Tom nearly spits out his wine. I look offended. “What?”

“For a minute there, I thought you were choking on a bit of cork.”

“I was trying to look evil.”

Tom covers his eyes. “Hmm. I recommend you stick to your usual range of facial expressions; they suit you very much better. Now, to business.”

I clink my glass with his. “To business!”

He rolls his eyes, and moves closer to me on the couch. “You know what I mean. I’ve been thinking about what we can do to reduce the fallout from the deal, and some of the things you’ve said gave me a bunch of ideas. Hold on to your glass, and let me go through it.”

* * *

After an hour, the whiteboard is covered in scribbled equations, notes and question marks, and the bottle of wine is empty. We sit back on the couch and look at each other; Tom has a satisfied expression on his face.

“You think that’ll work?”

I look at the whiteboard again. “Yeah, I think that’ll work. We can reduce the volatility of the underlying instruments. It’ll reduce our profit a bit, but when the bond goes up in value, the small investors on the other side won’t be totally wiped out. Some of the math is going to have to be worked through again to make sure we haven’t made any silly mistakes, but it all hangs together. In fact, you could get Errol and Adam to do just that.”

Tom looks thoughtful. “That’s a good idea; what they lack in sartorial elegance, they more than make up for in work ethic and commitment. I think we’ve really got something here. Thanks, Ronnie.”

I hold up my hand. “High five for the team!”

Laughing, Tom holds up his. “High five for the team!”

We slap palms, and then stop, hands touching.

Bzzzzt.

After a moment, our fingers twine. I look at Tom, and feel my face flush. I’m not sure if it’s the wine, or something more serious. He looks at me.

“Thanks for coming to work on this.”

“My pleasure.” I try to keep my voice steady. “Was there something else?”

Our hands are still touching. “Yes, Ms. Haas. There was something else.”

“And, what, precisely, was that?” Slowly, he draws my hand toward him, and gently untwines my fingers. His lips brush against my nails, and he kisses my fingertips, one after another.

“Well,” turning my hand over and gently kissing from my fingers, down across my palm, over my wrist, “it turns out, I did also have evil intentions at the same time.”

I shift on the sofa, feeling my arousal in my breast. “How—ohh—evil are we talking, exactly?”

His kisses have reached my forearm now, and I can feel his tongue snake out to draw a line up towards my elbow. “About as bad as they come, to be completely honest.”

“I see.” I keep very still. Further up, harder now, with a little nip on the bare flesh of my shoulder that makes me whimper, and now he’s right in front of me. “Well—ah—I’m glad you said something. I would. Hate. To be caught by surprise.”

“Oh, Ronnie. Surprise is something I think we can do very well.”

My hands go around him, and under his shirt, sliding it up, and suddenly I’m kissing him with an intensity that surprises even me. I kick my shoes off and pull him towards me.

Damn, this feels good.

Tom guides me down onto the soft cushions of the sofa, his mouth on mine. He smells of cologne, and the sharp scent of musk, and I can taste the wine on his lips. He’s kissing me fiercely now, down over my neck, and onto my collarbone. Uh-oh, I’m going to have to wear high-necked sweaters or something pretty soon. Don’t care.

All around me, all I can feel are his arms, and the warmth of his embrace. I’m holding on to him so tightly it must be painful for him, grinding against him, and I can feel him hard against me.

I can’t believe this is happening. He breaks for a moment, looking at me. I can see the desire in his eyes, and I resist the urge just to kiss him again.

“You know this is what I’ve wanted for some time, don’t you? All of you, in my bed, tonight?”

I smile, and trace my tongue over his lips. “You should have damn well told me earlier, then.”