“What do you think, Tess?”

“Sorry, what?”

“I said we’ll probably have to renegotiate,” my Head of Finance sighs, looking at me with an exasperated expression on his face. “Or maybe we’ll even have to change suppliers. It’s very likely that Mr. Capello, for instance, won’t be able to keep up with the demand. I mean, the Clarendon deal is going to put a strain on all our suppliers, there’s no doubt about it. Assuming that we manage to get it, that is.”

“Oh, right, that,” I nod, looking down at my meeting notes and realizing that they’re empty. Jesus, I haven’t heard a word of anything the past thirty minutes. Clearing my throat, I pretend to be reading something from my non-existing notes and then I look up to meet the gaze of my expectant board. “I think that’s a fair assessment, yes.”

Not my brightest moment, but what do you want me to say? Ever since last night that I haven’t quite felt like my usual self.

As the Board finally moves on to another subject, I let out a sigh of relief. Goddamnit, why the hell can’t I focus today? Why is Austin parked on my mind when I should be fully focused on getting the deal of the century? It’s like my mind has broken free of its chains and decided to roam straight into unicorn land.

Really, what the hell is wrong with me?

I can’t stop thinking about yesterday, and the way Austin’s soft lips felt right at home on mine. I’m still impressed I actually let him go after he kissed me like that. I mean, my body was begging me for more. If he hadn’t left when he did, I’m pretty sure that the night would only end inside his bedroom. Which is kind of an ironic thing for me to saying, being that I had promised myself nothing would happen between Austin and me.

But the way he kissed me…! Between you and me, there’s no better assessment of what a man can do than the way he kisses. And, oh, judging by the way he kisses, let’s just say that I’m pretty certain I’d be in for a treat. A pretty dirty and sweaty treat that would leave me panting for hours. God, just thinking of how everything went down last night is enough to leave a mess between my thighs.

Shit, I really gotta focus.

I can’t allow this train to go off the rails just because I met a good kisser. Sure, he probably also has a six-pack hiding under his shirt, not to mention that he must know all the right things a man should do between the sheets. But I’m a serious businesswoman, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let any of that distract me.

My main focus is the Clarendon Tower deal, not Austin Randall.

Too bad that—despite all his charm and rugged looks—Austin seems to be nothing but a good seller when it comes to business. When it’s time to deliver the goods, he doesn’t seem capable of making his promises happen. All his talk of rawness or whatever bullshit he made up on the spot...yeah, it was a nice piece of conversation, but nothing more than that.

Don’t take it the wrong way—I don’t mind one bit to have the Clarendon deal delivered to me on a silver platter. I just thought that this competition thing would be more fun. And in Austin, I thought I had a worthy adversary.

As it is, it looks like I’m going to steamroll the competition, Austin included.

Oh, well, make way for the future Furniture Queen.

As my board meeting finally draws to a close, I saunter out of the room and head straight toward my office. Once inside, I lock the door behind me and tell Samantha to hold all calls.

I pour myself a whisky. Probably too early for a celebratory drink but, hey, what the hell. I’m going to win the deal of a lifetime, and one of the hottest men in town has the hots for me. All in all, it’s been a good week.

Just look at it this way…we’re not even halfway through this novel and I’m already the clear winner.

Bringing the whisky back to my desk, I sink into my leather chair and fire up my laptop. I open the Austin/Oakmont folder—which I had digitized—and scroll through all the files filled with information about his company and the deals he has struck through the years.

I only stop when I get to his pictures. I maximize one of them, a photo-op Austin did for a magazine a few months ago. ‘Meet the man making waves in the furniture industry!’ the heading proclaims with a bold font. A smiling Austin is staring back at the reader. He has his foot up on a modern chair, its straight and rough lines probably one of Austin’s designs, and has his forearms resting on his raised leg. Wearing a button-up white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he has dispensed with a tie.

But I don’t care about his clothing. My gaze settles on his eyes, and I lean back on my chair as I imagine him looking back at me. God, I can almost taste his lips on mine all over again.

My gaze continues down to his mouth, and I drink in the way his chiseled jaw seems like something straight off a romance novel cover. And his broad shoulders, as strong as those of a quarterback...I can already imagine him pinning me against the wall, his hands reaching for me to tear the clothes off my body.

I definitely need to buy a better A/C, because it’s hot as hell inside my office right now. Yeah, I know, what a stupid excuse. But what do you want me to do? Admit that Austin, a man that should be my rival, leaves me so wet that I can’t even think straight? So wet that I locked the door to my office just so I could have some me time?

Well, now you know. Happy?

Pressing my legs together, I feel a heatwave go up my body. Staring at Austin’s picture, his smart eyes hypnotizing me, I let one hand fall from my lap to the hemline of my dress. My fingers are already sliding underneath my skirt when suddenly the screen goes dark.

“What the—?”

I look under my desk, to check if the laptop is connected to the electric socket, when the lights in my office go dark. Jesus Christ, what the hell is going?

I hear the handle on my door turn repeatedly, but since I’ve locked it after coming in, whoever’s out there has no other option but wait for me. Blindly, I cross the office and finally manage to unlock the door.

“Samantha? What the hell is going on? Power surge?”

“I...I don’t think so,” she stammers, her glance flying from her bright cell phone screen to me. “The IT guys are in a panic right now. They called me the moment the computers went out.”

“The IT guys?” I ask with alarm. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I really don’t know how to say it, but...seems like all our data has been stolen,” she says to me.

“All of it?!” I ask her, already anticipating what her answer is going to be.

“All of it.” Sighing, she looks away from me, nervously shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “And that includes the plans for the next contest.”

“Do we have backups?” I ask.

Samantha just shakes her head.

“The IT guys say this was a professional hit job and our backup servers are fried too,” she laments. “They knew exactly what to take out and they did it with efficiency. We have nothing left. All our designs will have to start from scratch.”

Suddenly, I’m not enjoying this novel as much as I was a second ago.

Just lovely.

I know exactly who did this.

Austin Randall.

I swear to God I’m going to find him.

And then I’m going to kill him with my bare hands.