She hadn’t gotten much sleep, but she had a job to do.

At exactly seven o’clock the next morning Bria stuffed her purse into her desk drawer and turned her computer on.

All night long she’d gone over everything that had happened between her and Ashton.

So much of it had been amazing…

Right up to when he’d completely changed and suddenly kicked her out of his office.

Light shone from under Ashton’s office door now, letting her know that he was there already, only a few feet away.

She sucked in a breath and exhaled.

More than once last night she had almost sent him a text. Almost asked him what had happened between them. But better judgment prevailed and she’d done nothing but toss and turn all night.

Her eyes felt gritty despite the amount of eye drops she’d filled them with.

After she popped a pod into her coffee maker, Bria got to work transferring her notes from yesterday's conference call into a coherent document. At eight she glanced at Ashton’s closed door.

This was when she usually brought him coffee and his schedule for the day.

If he wanted to pretend that nothing had happened between them then so could she. She made a fresh cup of coffee in the mug he preferred, printed out his appointments and the notes from his meeting.

If she gave him everything in one trip, she wouldn’t have to see him again until noon.

She knocked briskly on his door and pushed it open without waiting for him to respond. In and out. Professional. Bria ran the mantra over and over in her head as she moved across his office as quickly as she could without spilling hot coffee all over herself.

The leather sofa teased the edge of her vision and reminded her of the recent past.

Twelve hours ago Ashton had taken her on that very piece of furniture, made her world spectacularly implode, and everything she thought she knew had disappeared in the flames, replaced with an almost constant ache for more.

Yet he had pushed her away almost immediately.

She set the coffee down at his desk and laid the papers next to the cup. She had half turned away when he cleared his throat.

Her heart thumped against her ribs. Was he going to say something about what happened?

“Ms. Long.”

The low intimate timbre of his voice caressed the bare skin of her arm and goose bumps sprang up in their wake. She inhaled a ragged breath and forced her feet to move so that she faced his desk again. “Yes, Mr. Carter?”

When she finally dared to look up, to look into the eyes that had been blazing up at her from between her thighs not so long ago, the air in her lungs froze.

He’d already taken off his jacket and rolled his sleeves up this morning.

Her lips parted and he zeroed in on them. When he finally dragged his gaze up, it was there again.

That fire.

She clenched her thighs together to ease the ache that had started the moment her eyes met his. God she wanted to bend over his desk, no, she wanted to be bent over by him, his hands at her waist…

Her nipples strained against the silky fabric of her blouse and he focused on them, making them even harder. Tension coiled low in her stomach. She wanted a repeat of what he’d done to her last night.

All he had to do was ask, no tell her what he wanted her to do.

Ashton’s jawline went hard. His entire body tensed.

He felt it too, she was sure.

The air grew thicker between them. He sucked in a breath and after a harsh exhale, he looked at her again.

“This coffee is wrong,” he said, pushing the mug towards her. “Make it again. Correctly this time.”

It took several seconds for his words to break through the erotic haze coating her mind. When they registered, when that splash of ice cold reality washed over her, she gasped and stumbled back a step.

“Excuse me?” She swallowed thickly and pressed her knees together, this time to keep them from trembling.

His eyes were so dull now. Empty. Cold.

“Coffee.” He waved his hand toward the cup. “It’s the wrong blend. Make it again. Try to get it right this time.” The muscles in his jaw hardened once again and he dropped his gaze to the papers she’d set on his desk, effectively dismissing her.

Unbearable weight pressed down on her shoulders and tears burned the back of her eyes.

Damn him.

She’d dared to hope that what happened last night actually meant something to him. She was crazy enough to want it to mean something.

Her hand shook as she picked up the cup and coffee splashed over the side, staining the corner of his printed appointments. He didn’t even look up at her, only made a low disapproving grunt-like sound in his throat.

She wanted to throw the coffee all over him and watch it run down his face. Wanted to see his reaction, wanted something, anything from him beside the silent asshole in front of her.

“Of course, Mr. Carter.” Bria turned slowly and made her way to the door, her back rigid to keep her shoulders from shaking. As she made her way to her desk it became clear that any crazy notion she’d had that there was something between them had all been in her own head.

She knew what kind of man he was, god she’d seen it since day one.

He was a player. A different woman every night. How many phone calls had Bria fielded from his latest one-nighter. Why would she be any different?

It had meant something to her though. That she’d opened herself up, made herself vulnerable because she trusted him, pissed her off most. She wasn’t stupid.

Bria would have sworn under oath that there was something more behind his eyes.

She snorted to herself as she stuffed a pod into the Keurig.

There was nothing more behind his eyes, it was all her overactive imagination.

Ashton had gotten all he wanted from her and was done. She needed this job though, and she wasn’t going to just walk. If he wanted professional and cold, she could do that.

And then she went and did as he asked, remade the coffee per his request.

With a fresh cup of dark roast in hand, Bria pushed his office door open and walked to his desk again. Without a word she set it down and turned her back on him.

“Bria.” His deep voice stopped her in her tracks. So much for remaining cold. Just the way he said her name sent heat racing to all the right parts. With a deep inhale, she turned back around. Ashton was looking at her now. His movements were deliberate as he lifted the mug and took a long sip.

She waited for him to tell her the coffee was wrong, for him to tell her to do make it again just to drive home some unknown point.

But instead he only looked at her.

The heat in her gut turned into an inferno when he ran his tongue across his lips. That tongue. God that tongue. She almost closed her eyes at the memories of where it had been and what it had done to her last night.

“Is there anything else you need, Mr. Carter?” she finally was able to say in a dry voice.

“You need to retype these before ten. There are glaring errors in both grammar and punctuation. The last ten minutes of the phone call were completely missing as well.” Ashton slid several papers across his desk, covered in red ink.

Grammar? Punctuation? He had to be kidding.

And the last ten minutes were missing from her notes because he’d had his face buried between her thighs and she couldn't have remembered her own name at the time.

And he knew it, damn him.

She took the pages without a word. “Is there anything else?” she gritted out between her clenched teeth.

“Reschedule all of my meetings for this afternoon and book the Governor's Suite at the Harbor Hotel for today. I have a meeting at four and plan to stay there tonight. Also, I expect lunch delivered at exactly two o’clock. By you. I’d like a sandwich, and you might need to write this down.”

He waited while she grabbed a pen from his desk and flipped over the conference notes he’d red penned. She waited for him to call her out on her petulance, but he didn’t. He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.

Bria tried not to stare at the way the muscles in his forearms flexed when he moved.

“I’m ready,” she said, finally, and then felt her cheeks flush from the unintended double meaning behind her words.

Ashton raised one eyebrow slightly as he spoke. “San Francisco sourdough, lightly toasted, with grilled foie gras, late season onions cured in a prosecco vinaigrette, a local mesclun mix but not more than one fifth arugula. Shaved ubriaco prosecco cheese with pear and calvados jam.”

By the time he finished, Bria had to force her mouth to close. Was he serious? She didn’t even know if half the things he asked for were spelled correctly, much less what they were.

“Is that all?” she asked incredulously.

He appeared to think for a few seconds, then met her gaze. With one eyebrow still lifted, he kept going. “A cold brewed pour over with monsoon Malabar beans, but only half filled with ice. And a touch of cream and no sugar.”

Her pen broke through the paper, she pressed so hard. “Sounds like a lovely meal,” she muttered, mostly to herself.

Ashton was unfazed. “I’ll expect that at two. No earlier, no later. And don’t forget to get the conference notes fixed by ten. I need to go over them before I leave.” With that, he turned his attention back to his laptop and she was dismissed.

Bria knew she must look like a cartoon fish, her mouth opening and closing while steam came out her ears. He’d obviously made that ridiculous lunch demand to prove that he was the one calling the shots. That he was the boss and she was just his assistant.

Humiliation burned up her neck.

He wanted to put her in her place, to remind her of their positions, and boy oh boy had he ever. If she didn’t need her job so much, she’d have told him to go screw himself and quit on the spot.

The part that pissed her off the most though was that he knew she needed this job. She had already begged for another chance and even though she never told him why, he must have known that she was desperate.

“I’ll have the notes to you.” She bit the words out and left his office, shutting the door a little harder than needed. If he thought he was going to make her break with his crazy demands though, he didn’t know Bria all that well.

She set down the papers and got on the phone, canceling and rescheduling all of his appointments for the day. Then she booked the suite Ashton wanted for today, not an easy task so last minute, but it helped that the Ashton Carter name was well known at the hotel.

It didn’t surprise Bria at all considering he had a different woman every week.

When that was done she retyped the conference call notes, paying careful attention to the grammar and punctuation errors Ashton had so kindly pointed out in red pen.

She was half tempted to add in what had happened between them during that meeting, word for word, since he’d decided to be so picky about everything. What would he do if she wrote it all down?

Probably correct her grammar.

After finishing up his request, an hour early even, she took it back to Ashton’s office. Once again he didn’t look up from his laptop when she stopped in front of his desk.

She took a deep breath before speaking. “Your meetings have all been rescheduled, you have a reservation at the Harbor Hotel and here are the conference notes you wanted, corrections made. Frank Burrows was adamant he needed to talk strategic planning to go over the numbers on your last acquisition. I penciled him in for Thursday at ten, since you were free before your call with the west coast, but if that doesn’t work I’ll reschedule.”

She waited for him to acknowledge her, but all she got was a noncommittal grunt.

“Was that a grunt a yes or no grunt?” she snapped, crossing her arms.

He raised his head and his dark stare slammed into hers. The breath left her body in a soft whoosh when his gaze dropped to her breasts. How could she feel his gaze on her like that? She shivered and her nipples tightened. Ashton clenched his jaw and inhaled sharply through his nose.

. “Make five copies of the conference notes,” he told her, “and bind them in dark blue with the cream Carter Media labels. Overnight two of them to Bruce and make sure they arrive no later than noon. Give one copy to Frank and one to his assistant. I want one copy on my desk. When you’re done, answer the emails that I’ve forwarded to you and cc me on every one of them. In thirty minutes I’d like another coffee.”

With every word her body grew more rigid. Her face had to be six shades of red and it was all she could do not to slam her fist down on his desk.

Her chest rose and fell as she sucked in air.

He wanted her to quit. It was the only way to explain his behavior.

“Would you like the dark blue with the diamond pattern or the one with the squares?” she asked. “Personally I’d recommend the diamonds because it really shows what a grade A ass…” She paused and sucked in a breath. God she wanted to say it so badly. Reason won out at the last second. “Grade A asset Carter Media would be.”

The corner of Ashton’s mouth lifted up and he sat back in his chair. Though he appeared relaxed, Bria could sense a tension simmering just under the surface. She desperately wanted to see his eyes but his lids were lowered, his pupils hooded. “Assets are very important, I agree wholeheartedly, Miss Long.”

The timbre of his voice had changed and the low tones stroked over her skin, raising goose bumps in their wake. Were they still talking about binders?

“The shape,” he continued. “The feel in one’s hands. It’s important to give each area the attention it deserves so that there is no chance for misinterpretation. Unclear intention can seal or kill a deal. Appearances are important.”

Air stuttered from her lungs. “Yes, we agree, Mr. Carter.”

“Good. And remember to make sure Frank gets his copy before noon. That’s all for now.”

* * *

Ashton gave her an hour before calling her back into his office. He slid a handwritten note across the desk.

Red=urgent

Orange=priority

Blue=can wait

Yellow=ignore

“I’d like you to go through all my email, Spam included to be sure you don't miss anything-- and flag them with the corresponding color so I know which ones I need to actually look at.”

She’d checked his email this morning and he had over a hundred new messages in his Inbox, but there were thousands in his Spam folder. Was he even serious? She clenched her hands at her sides. When she looked up, his eyes flashed with challenge. A smirk tugged on one side of his mouth.

“Problem?” he asked.

Despite the desire to wrap her hands around his throat, or run her hands over his chest to see if he was as hard as he looked, she gave him a sickly sweet smile. Her lips quivered from the effort. “No problem,” she told him.

When he lifted an eyebrow she wanted to throw herself across the desk at him. His dark eyes dropped to her chest and she felt her nipples harden again, damn him.

He’d been playing this game with her all morning.

She braced for his next move, when he turned ice cold and dismissed her. Except this time he didn’t.

“I’ll be out of the office after this.” His voice deepened and she watched as his thumb moved in small circles against the top of his desk. She’d never wanted to be a piece of furniture more than at that moment.

“The hotel,” she said, nodding.

“Two o’clock,” he all but growled. “Don’t keep me waiting, Bria.”

With that heated innuendo hanging in the air, she made her way to the door. Just before she pulled it shut behind her, she thought she heard Ashton’s low voice.

“I’ve waited long enough.”