My heart pounds and my muscles scream while a fine layer of sweat slowly trickles down the valley between my breasts. Every breath I take comes in harsh, heaving, gusts of air. I’m close, so close, just a little further, and I’ll be there. Euphoria hits, and I push that extra bit harder, taking me right over the edge. Runner’s high. Sweet baby Jesus, it’s so good.

My feet pound against the treadmill, and I smile in victory. A loud whoosh of breath, almost a moan, escapes me. I close my eyes in pure bliss, relishing in the feeling of being completely alive.

“Incredible,” someone whispers behind me.

I’m startled out of my nirvana. My foot hits the rubber at a slant, and I’m falling. In a useless attempt, I grapple for purchase against the metal bars of the treadmill, but my sweaty fingers slip and my body flies backward. I tumble over myself, limbs flailing. Strong arms grip my waist and haul me off the machine. I’m crushed against a solid wall of hard muscle.

“Jesus, Gillian! You could have been seriously hurt!” Chase Davis’s worried eyes search my face.

I’m stunned into silence. I feel dazed and confused. My heart is pounding a mile a minute, legs weak and wobbly, and my breath comes in huge panting gasps. I grip the skin of his back tightly, trying to get my equilibrium back. He caresses my face with his right hand and firmly holds me around my waist with his left. If he weren’t, I don’t know that I’d have been able to stand on my own.

“Are you okay?”

“Um, yeah. I think so.” I shake my head and bring my hands to his shoulders to steady myself. They meet naked, moist flesh, and my body becomes all too aware of just how close Chase is. Our bodies are plastered against one another. His stomach touching mine, skin to skin, as I take deep breaths. Every part of him is warm, from his hard abdominals to his strong shoulders. Sweat trickles from his hairline, dripping down his neck. I want to lick that drop of sweat off just to see how he tastes.

Having his arms around me feels safe, as if nothing could harm me, not even him. It’s a feeling I’m unaccustomed to, but one I crave deep down to the depths of my soul. I’ve always believed those were feelings I would never, could never have, after what I’ve survived.

“Are you okay? You scared the hell out of me.”

He continues to hold me while things around me slip back into focus. He caresses my cheek with his thumb, and I look up into his eyes. I was not prepared for his level of concern or the worry furrowing his brow. Maybe he’s not just an overconfident man with a pretty face and slick words. Begrudgingly, I realize that it’s a definite possibility that strong, dominant males don’t all use their strength to hurt others.

The pad of his finger sweeps my bottom lip. I gasp, and his eyes go dark. He licks his lips. His grip tightens around my waist and his hand presses against my back. He’s going to kiss me. Oh my God.

Frantically pushing away from him, I step back and hunch over to take in huge lung-filling breaths of blessed air. I peer up and stand again.

His eyes question mine, and a sly grin adorns his beautiful face.

The man was going to kiss me. I know it. Did I want him to kiss me? Hell, yes! my mind screams. Then why the hell did I pull away?

As I come down from panic-induced delirium, I finally notice him in all his glory. And oh, what a sight. Glory, glory, hallelujah. Can I get an amen? Wow. Just wow.

He’s wearing gray sweats slung low on his hips and nothing else. He bends and picks up the shirt he must have dropped when he caught me. His chest is bare, and I look my fill. He is in amazing shape. His shoulders and chest are large, strong, and all sinew and muscle. He has a perfectly defined V-shape with a trim waist and flawless abs. This man works out…a lot.

A smattering of dark hair below his belly button trails down and dips farther into his pants. Oh my, what I wouldn’t give to scratch my nails along that patch of hair dipping lower…

I realize he’s still waiting for a response, and I say the first thing that comes to mind, “You’re fine.” His shocked expression reaches my frazzled brain. “I mean, uh, shit. I mean, I’m fine.”

His laugh echoes throughout the space, reminding me where I am. I scan the hotel gym. I’d be mortified if anyone else witnessed my not-so-graceful fall. It seems Chase and I are alone. Groaning, I walk over to the implement of my embarrassment and slap the “Stop” button more harshly than necessary. It comes to a screeching halt. Taking my frustration out on exercise equipment isn’t going to assuage my burning pride. I turn and place my hands on my hips in a defensive pose. Chase is leaning against one of the pillars next to us, his arms crossed over his chest. He’s completely at ease baring that golden naked skin.

His eyes fill with mirth to accompany that sexy grin on his smug face. It’s obvious he finds the situation funny, which irritates the hell out of me. And why the hell hasn’t he bothered to put his shirt on? It’s distracting. All I can think about is gobbling him up, starting at the delectable patch of skin slick with sweat right under his hip bone. When I’m done with that, I’ll drag my tongue across the wide expanse of his chest from his clavicle to his belly button and lower.

God, I’m frustrated, sexually and mentally. Maria was right. I need to get laid. Makes his offer last night seem even more desirable.

I blow out a harsh breath and pull on my ponytail holder. My auburn hair falls around my shoulders.

Chase watches me like a hawk, tracking my clunky movements. I pull my hair back up and sweep the length into a messy bun piled on top of my head. His gaze roams over my form, but he says nothing. The heat I see in those steely orbs is fierce while he takes in every inch of me, from the bottom of my Nikes, up my bare calves and tight workout shorts, over my naked midriff to my sports bra, and back to my face. I tremble under his scrutiny. I wonder if he finds me lacking.

“You’re a beautiful woman, Gillian.”

I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “That’s very kind of you, especially considering my tumble moments ago.” Cringing, I look down at my feet. The Nike swoosh is suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.

In two strides, he’s beside me, cupping my chin, tipping my face up to his. Those aqua eyes are steely. “You need to learn how to accept a compliment.”

I nod, self-preservation instincts coming to full alert. When a man grips a woman, he means business. He searches my eyes once more and releases my chin. The hands at my waist clench into fists, and my gut churns. I’m about to hightail it out of there when his thumb grazes my cheekbone lightly. Last time a man did that to me, it was to check his handiwork.

Breathe, Gigi. I promised myself I would start trusting men again. Start allowing them to touch me. Chase comes off domineering, but I don’t think he means to add an element of fear. My own insecurities crop up and twist beautiful moments like these into something they’re not. I force myself to relax and take a clarifying breath.

“Good. Now, I’d like to see you this evening.”

I tilt my head as my mind tries to make sense of what he’s saying. “You mean, like a date?” I watch him closely as the corner of his lips tip up. That small grin is lethal. So much so, I want to see it on his face again and again, preferably while naked.

He shakes out the tank top he is holding, adjusts it, and lifts his long arms over his head to pull it on. It feels like it happens in slow motion. I stare at his muscles as they ripple and stretch while he pulls the tank top over his wide expanse of chest. My body thrums, nipples growing erect and pressing tightly against the flexible fabric of my sports bra.

“You could say that. Unfortunately, I have a dinner engagement, but after, I’d like to share a drink with you. I’ll send a car for you at nine p.m.”

I’m still stuck on his body. “You work out a lot,” I say in awe.

His gaze pierces mine. “When I’m not in a relationship, the need to work out is exemplified.” He grins.

My panties moisten. I take a slow breath and lick my lips. “And when you are in a relationship?” Oh Gigi, you’re asking for it.

He cradles my neck with his large hand. I inhale and crane my head to the opposite side, offering the white column for his taking. The move is instinctual. Usually, I flee when a man puts his hands on me before I’m ready for it. His hand glides down my neck, over my shoulder, as his fingertips trail featherlight along my arm. The limb is thick with sweat from my workout, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Quite the opposite. Chase’s eyes are dark and hooded as they zero in on my mouth. His pink tongue barely juts out to wet perfectly plump lips. Gooseflesh spreads along my arm. His hand stops at my wrist, and he caresses the pulse point there slowly in a figure eight. Over and over. Eternity.

The action makes me twitchy, needy, and on edge. Chase likes to touch, and often. It’s not something I’m used to. He’s practically a stranger, but my body bows and arcs towards his as if it’s always known his touch. Traitor.

“When I’m in a relationship, I’m too busy fucking what’s mine to need to work out.”

Those words settle deep into my belly like a warm soup on a cold day. A new sheen of sweat breaks along my skin, heat building white-hot within my core.

Does he want to fuck me?

No. Something deep in my subconscious awakens to remind me of my goals. I’ve made a solid vow not to get swept away in a man again. Here I am, hanging on every word, every tilt of his perfect face, losing myself in his eyes. Jesus. This isn’t me. I’ve learned my lesson. The past taught me that you can’t trust men. They are out for one thing and one thing only. Control. But what do I really have against sex? No, fucking. That’s what he’s after.

I’ve never been in a relationship that was just about physical needs. Frankly, it scares the hell out of me. What if he needs to throw me against a wall and take me against my will? Not a chance. Since the moment I met this man, my libido has been in overdrive. All I think about is what it would be like to be surrounded by this perfect male specimen. Consumed.

I know this is dangerous and he could easily break me, yet I still want him beyond reason. It’s illogical. I’m officially losing my mind. Bat-shit crazy.

“Just a drink,” I finally answer his earlier request.

Chase’s smile at my agreement could light up a room. Perfectly even teeth sparkle and shine under the harsh fluorescent lights of the gym. “I will send my driver promptly at nine p.m. just outside the hotel lobby. Do not be late. I detest tardiness,” he says. “As much as I’d like to stay and chat”—he raises his eyebrows, scans my body once more, and bites his lip—“and look at your half-naked body, I confess, I must go.”

Before I can respond, he turns and strides off, leaving the gym and a stunned redhead in his wake. I watch the exit long after he’s gone. Did that just happen? What is it about Chase Davis that continues to stupefy me? Is it as simple as being wildly attracted to him? Can’t be. A connection perhaps? My girlfriend Bree would tell me it’s the universe forcing us together.

I spend the next few minutes going over our two encounters again. My mind wanders as I enjoy the view from the windows overlooking the Chicago skyline. It’s breathtaking. This hotel provides for extreme luxuries. Patrons are able to view the entire city while they burn calories on a treadmill or elliptical.

“Too busy fucking what’s mine.” His words burn a path through my subconscious. What if I were his? The simple thought makes my belly go warm. I squeeze my thighs together to relieve some of the pressure building between them.

He’s obviously successful. If you consider the meticulously tailored suit he wore last night, the air of authority around him, and the fact that he’s going to send a driver for me this evening—plus the little tidbit of owning this lush hotel. Definitely the type of man who can take care of himself. And me.

Though, I don’t need to be taken care of. My mother taught me long ago to never count on a man.

“Take a look in the mirror, Gigi. You see that person? That’s the only person you can count on in this world. Never expect a man to be your everything. He will fail miserably. If you want something in life, you must go after it.”

She was right. Men have done nothing but harm and prevent me from reaching my goals and dreams. Not anymore. My cell phone alarms on the treadmill. I’ve got to get ready for this board meeting. It’s six thirty a.m., and I’m meeting my boss in an hour. Scurrying out of the gym, I leave my thoughts of Chase for the birds.

After a lightning-fast shower, I dry off and pull out the clothing I set aside for the meeting. I look at myself in the floor-length mirror in my room. I’m wearing a form-fitting black pencil skirt that falls just above my knees. It fits like a glove. I turn to view my backside. The slit up the center of the back hits mid-thigh. Respectable, yet feminine. I’ve coupled the skirt with an emerald-green silk blouse. It’s sleeveless and gathers at the front, keeping my breasts away from any unwanted attention. My hair is up and away from my face in a sleek chignon, leaving a delicate swooping layer of hair running across my forehead like a strip of fiery red across a white canvas. I slip stocking feet into black suede four-inch Guess heels. They have this enticing cutout right at the arch that makes me feel innately sexy, even though the outfit puts off a smart vibe. I shrug into my matching blazer, and I’m out the door.

* * *

My boss, Taye Jefferson, waits in the hotel lobby Starbucks. He sits sideways in one of the small chairs, holding a white foam cup. It is barely visible under his large paw. Taye is an African American SUV-sized man in his late forties and the Director of Contributions for the Safe Haven Foundation.

I love working with Taye. He treats me as his equal and hates yes-men. He wants to know what I’m thinking and genuinely appreciates my opinions. We make a great team and have been very successful. I’ve only been at the company a couple years, working my way up from assistant to manager. In that short time, we have found an easy partnership in our charitable work.

He checks his watch and looks up with a big smile. “Right on time as usual, Gigi. Woman after my own heart.”

“Uh-huh, that’s what you tell all the ladies, especially Mrs. Jefferson,” I tease him.

Taye smiles wide. When his wife is mentioned, he gets this cheesy grin across his face. He truly loves her. What I wouldn’t give to have a man appreciate me like that, but it’s likely never to happen. A good man wouldn’t want a woman with my history—damaged goods as Justin would say.

There’s a Starbucks cup across from Taye and a crusty, crunchy muffin that looks delicious.

“For me?”

He nods. “A little welcome to the world of board meetings and proving yourself accountable to the bigwigs.”

I take a sip and the creamy, hot liquid surges over my taste buds. I want to bow down and worship the Starbucks Gods for making such a perfect combination of espresso, cream, and vanilla goodness. “Mmmmm, Taye, you know what I like. Thank you.” I break off a piece of the crunchy muffin and take a bite. It’s as satisfying as the latte. Well, almost. “So what’s the plan for this morning?” I ask around a mouthful of muffin. Not exactly the best manners, but Taye is used to it. We’re like family, rather than boss and subordinate. There’s an ease about being around him. Most big men make me uncomfortable. Taye has always made me feel the exact opposite. I feel safe around him. Much like I did when Chase’s arms were around me this morning.

He shuffles through his briefcase and hands me something. “I just received the agenda last night from the president’s secretary. We’re on the schedule just after lunch. President’s Office speaks first, and then Business Development runs through their latest plans for new affiliations. Then lunch, Contributions, and the Volunteer Department will go over their recent cases. Tomorrow, there’s Marketing, Finance, and general Board items.”

“Do you have any pointers you want to share? I’m afraid I’m going to make a complete fool of myself. This morning I tripped and almost killed myself on the treadmill.” I chuckle and shovel in another bite.

He shoots me a worried look. “Are you okay, Gigi? Did you hurt yourself?”

“Just my pride. A man caught me.” Chase. He keeps popping to the surface of my mind. It’s official. I’m a lunatic.

Taye continues to stare. He tips his head to the side in one of his “tell me, my child” gestures that usually has me spilling my guts. Not this time.

“It just rattled me, and I was already nervous about today.” I pat his hand with affection.

“Just do what you always do.” He smiles and sips his coffee. “Dazzle them with your statistics and campaign numbers. You have the Midas touch when it comes to direct mail and tele-fundraising. Just explain what you’ve done differently and the outcomes.” I nod. “Just be yourself.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, come on, Taye. A cliché, really? Just be yourself? Did you not eat your Wheaties this morning, big guy?”

He laughs and leans back in his chair. “I need to work on my pep talks. You ready? It’s ten to eight. From what I remember, the Chairman despises people who are late.”

Someone else recently mentioned not being tardy. Wonder what Chase would do if I didn’t show or was late to his little nine p.m. command appearance. We grab our things and shuffle toward the large bank of elevators. The boardroom is on the third floor with the other convention and meeting rooms.

“At the last board meeting I attended,” Taye says, “the chairman made a board member wait outside until the first break in the schedule. Then the board member had to apologize to the entire room for being late.” He stabs button number three on the brightly lit panel inside the elevator, and the car rises.

“You’re kidding? The chairman treats a colleague like an errant child?”

“Well, he’s the founder and chairman. He’s crazy rich. Donates over half our foundation’s budget each year. Forty million annually.”

I whistle. The elevator dings. We step into the corridor, and a sign on a pedestal states, “Safe Haven Foundation Board of Directors Meeting.” An arrow points down the hall.

“Forty million dollars? Damn!” That’s an obscene amount of money. Anyone who can donate that kind of capital to one foundation can’t be all bad. People don’t just hand over millions to a charity without having a huge heart, especially since the work we do is so personal. We protect and help battered women. I shake my head before going back to my indignation. “That doesn’t give him the right to humiliate someone publicly.”

“Agreed. He’s a bastard for sure—a filthy rich one. You know, he pays for all the board members to stay here in the lap of luxury.”

I wondered how a charitable organization could afford such a swanky location.

“Word is, he didn’t want to be seen in a low rent hotel. Would ruin his image.”

It’s impossible to stop the grimace spreading across my face. “Yikes, the man sounds like a jerk.”

Taye laughs. I’m more nervous than before. The chair sounds like a barbarian. We make our way to the open door at the end of the corridor. Several men and women in dark suits of varying shades of black and gray mill around the entrance. It makes the emerald green I chose pop in contrast to the funeral vibe.

Taye introduces me to four men and two women in the span of fifteen seconds. I shake their hands and smile politely. He ushers me into a large room where more individuals, also in sharp suits, are already seated, preparing for the meeting. We find place cards with our names and take a seat.

“Gigi, I’ll set up the laptops if you get us another cup of coffee.” Taye gestures to the sideboard with the coffee pitchers. “I’ll have decaf.”

Nodding, I head to the table. I’m careful to walk slowly, with my head held high, trying valiantly to hide my nerves. This is the first meeting I’ve been invited to since my promotion to Contributions Manager. I want to make a good impression. My future with the Safe Haven Foundation depends on it.

I fill two small coffee cups with decaf. Each cup has a tiny gold trim along the rim. I’ll bet they’re real china. Everything in the hotel seems top-notch. Even if the chairman is paying the bill, it seems frivolous. Turning, coffee in hand, I take one step into a rock solid chest. Luckily, I’m still holding the two cups out to my side and don’t spill them.

Slowly, I look up, ready to apologize, when I’m stricken by the distinct, heady smell of sandalwood and citrus. Oh, no! Aquamarine orbs prettier than an open blue sky bore into mine. The beauty steals my breath. Excitement and fear scream through my veins in equal parts. Rigid hands hold me by the waist. His presence surrounds me, and the room fades into nothing but him.

“Miss Callahan. We meet again.” A smug grin adorns his chiseled features.

I’m disheartened that he didn’t use my first name.