“WISH I HAD a best friend as awesome as me.”
My good friend stood in my private office doorway. Deep chocolate brown eyes twinkled with mischief, and a huge self-satisfied smile adorned her pretty face. It was a look I often saw when Mai Harvey was interfering in my non-existent love life. I was sure it was her favourite pastime. “What have you done now?”
“Just hooked you up with a meeting on level fifteen.” Making her proud announcement, she tottered in on sky-high tangerine stilettos that added at least four inches to her five-foot frame, the skirt of her yellow fifties-style dress swishing as she moved. “You can thank me later.”
“Shouldn’t Michael attend that?”
“The sleazeball’s been called elsewhere, so I volunteered you take his place.”
Slipping off my glasses, I raised a disapproving brow. Michael Cole was the Finance Director and our inconsiderate boss. Married, mid-forties and slightly overweight, he had a roaming eye for the younger ladies.
“What,” she moaned with a flick of long poker straight hair that matched her eyes, “he’s pervy.”
“He isn’t that bad. I’ve never had any issues with him.”
“You intimidate him. He knows he doesn’t stand a chance, but thinks us less-blessed in the looks department are grateful for some attention.”
Mai was half-Hawaiian, a sensual and exotic beauty who received more than her fair share of attention. According to my father, I was the quintessential English rose—creamy skin, large green eyes and caramel blonde hair with a natural wave that gave Mai serious hair envy.
“Anyway,” she continued, hopping onto the corner of my desk and knocking over my photo, “level fifteen!”
“Is that supposed to mean something?” I returned the picture to its upright position. It had been taken in the garden of the family home in Oxfordshire six years ago on the day I moved out. A moment of great sadness for my parents, but great excitement for me.
“The top floor, Kara!” Mai clapped her hands and did a little wriggle in childlike excitement. “You might see him!”
“Ah, Blake,” I said. She was referring to the founder and owner of RED, the leading brand management consultancy in North America, and the man we both worked for.
“Hell, yeah!” Mai swung her legs, all distant and love-struck. “You say you’ve sworn off men, but wait ‘til you see him up close.”
“He’s that good?”
“Well, I sure as hell wouldn’t kick him outta bed in a hurry.”
“Are there many you would?” I shot back.
“I’m a happily engaged woman,” she exclaimed, wafting her left hand in front of my face as a visual reminder. I pushed it away. Mai was engaged, but nowhere near as happy as when we first met. With an encouraging grin, she went on. “Remember that photo I showed you on the company website?”
I nodded. It had been Mai’s warped way of persuading me to apply for my job. Wavy, dark chestnut hair, immaculately groomed back off an angular face, highlighted eyes the most vivid shade of electric blue. Corporate profile photos rarely made people look good. Except him. He looked sinfully good—not that I ever admitted that to Mai.
I’d seen him once, albeit from the rear across the marbled lobby one morning. Every female employee unashamedly lusted after him, and judging by the heavy flirting going on between him and the main receptionist, Blake was arrogant enough to know it and not afraid to take advantage of it.
Definitely not someone I should waste my time on.
“If he doesn’t get you tingling between the legs you may as well turn lesbian,” Mai stated emphatically, strolling back to the door.
I rubbed my temples, trying to soothe a headache, and put my glasses back on. “What time’s the meeting?” I asked, not wishing to engage her further in this conversation.
“Two. I’ve updated your schedule with the details.” Mai was employed as Michael’s PA but insisted on keeping me organised, too. It was greatly appreciated. She accepted my weak smile of thanks and wobbled out of the office.
I pulled the relevant files off the server and created a new folder on my computer to store them all in one place. Luckily, it was a project I was familiar with. With my tablet syncing, I spun my chair to face the window.
Associate Finance Director, West Coast, USA – my job title sounded far grander than it was. RED handled some of the most recognised corporate brands across the globe. No two days were ever the same and I thrived on the variety. I could be involved in the upfront assessment of a prospective client’s brand value one day, then preparing budgets and forecasts for a Marketing campaign being implemented another.
Deciding the late July California sunlight streaming through the tinted windows was too much for my delicate head, I stood and drew the cream blind shut.
“Take these,” Mai insisted as she returned, “you look like shit.” She set two Advil and a glass of water on the desk and dropped into the visitor chair opposite.
“Well, thanks,” I retorted, finding her straight-talking as endearing as ever. “Exactly what I needed to hear before heading upstairs.”
“K, I’m kidding. Even with a hangover, you’re still gorgeous.” Ignoring her flattery, I sat down and took a tablet. “Sooo,” she began, leaning forward, “Jay was seriously into you last night. Lemme give him your number.”
“Do not give him my number.” Last night, after yoga, we’d belatedly celebrated my one month anniversary of full-time employment at the bar Mitchell—Mai’s fiancé—worked as Head Bartender. Their friend and roommate, Jason, had popped in and ended up keeping us company. Thanks to his trust fund, which covered the rental payments, he was the sole reason they could afford to live in their serviced building.
“But Jay’s cute,” Mai whined. She was insistent I needed a good lay to get me over my drought, but I disagreed. Meaningless sex wasn’t the answer to my problems.
“Honestly, I don’t recall much of the evening. If I were interested, I’d have taken more notice.”
With a defeated sigh, Mai muttered, “Shame. He can go all night long. I’ve heard him through the walls…”
I pursed my lips at her wiggling eyebrows. “I’d better prepare,” I said, checking the time. “Thanks for the Advil.”
AT a quarter to two, I made my way to the top floor. Standing in the empty lift, I fussed with my hair, wishing it wasn’t tied back in a ponytail that drew attention to my tired face.
At least I was wearing trousers. Paired with a black polka dot blouse, I was comfortable and professional, someone to be taken seriously—more appropriate for dealing with a group of businessmen than a skirt or dress.
When the metal doors opened, I stepped out into a small bright vestibule with the word RED sandblasted onto double glass doors. A young man with jet black hair styled into a high quiff peered up from behind the reception desk. He reached across it and the doors swung open. I was hit with the fragrance from the extravagant lily display on the glass table in front of me as I entered.
“Hey.” He pushed to his feet. “Can I help?” His smile was confident, his manner easy-going. I introduced myself and waited patiently whilst he verified my attendance on his computer. His style was slightly quirky, a pale lemon shirt, patterned tie and taupe slacks. The light shades set off his Hispanic skin and dancing brown eyes.
“This way, Miss Collins.” He stepped from behind the desk and led me to a waiting area. Jonathan Booth, Chief Finance Officer, sat engrossed in the latest edition of business news streaming from a huge wall mounted plasma television. The sound of my heels on the cherrywood floor announced my arrival.
He nodded and gave a curt, “Hello,” before going back to his programme. Thankful he wasn’t much of a talker given my delicate disposition, I sat opposite on a cream, suede sofa, with burgundy coloured soft furnishings in line with the company branding. There was so much natural light up here it renewed the dull ache in my head.
“Can I offer some refreshments?” the man from reception asked. “Tea? Coffee?”
“Espresso please, Ramón.” Jonathan rudely didn’t take his eyes from the television, but Ramón maintained his cheery manner and switched his attention to me.
“I’ll have some water, please.” I’d had enough caffeine for the day. Ramón nodded and disappeared behind the partition wall.
At the far end of the suite, open double doors framed an executive desk and revealed plush white furnishings inside…his office.
An unwelcome wave of disappointment washed over me upon seeing it empty. Enlightened by the knowledge that maybe I wanted to see Blake more than I cared to admit, I turned back to Ramón, who was placing our drinks on the glass coffee table. I offered my thanks and took a sip of chilled water.
A flurry of activity distracted me, drawing my attention to where some people were exiting a Boardroom, their animated chatter breaking the relative quiet. I was about to turn away when I caught sight of the magnificent vision emerging last from the room…
Striding elegantly through double cherrywood doors, wearing a navy two-piece tailored to fit his lean frame in all the right places, a white shirt and pale blue tie finished his stylish look. Effortlessly charming both the men and ladies surrounding him, his lips pressed together as he smiled politely and shook their hands. Mid-conversation, he glanced over in my direction, and when those intensely bright eyes locked onto mine, his eyebrows rose subtly. Tilting his head to one side, his lips parted before the ghost of a smile teased the corners.
Keen to avoid his gaze, I looked away, anywhere but at him as I squirmed in my seat, embarrassed at being caught staring. I heard his associates make their goodbyes and peeked up briefly to see him address a young blonde now joining Ramón at reception. The hair at my nape prickled with anticipation, my heart rate accelerating when he started making his way over.
“Jonathan.” A smooth, polished voice flowed through the air. Mr. Booth stood and shook hands with the man who honestly looked like he’d stepped straight from the catwalks of Milan.
“Mr. Blake! Your gift was very generous.” Jonathan proceeded to talk about Marcus—his partner—and their recent wedding and honeymoon. Blake listened, but he wasn’t paying attention.
His gaze had snagged on me, as if I were a far more interesting subject.
“How’s everything with you?” Jonathan asked once he’d paused for breath.
“Well, it appears my afternoon has just taken an unexpected turn for the better,” Blake answered. I sat enthralled, blindly placing my water back on the table as he leisurely weaved his way around it towards me, smoothing down his tie.
“I don’t believe we’ve met before?” He offered his hand, exposing a simple, but expensive watch on his right wrist beneath the French cuff of his shirt.
“This is Miss Collins, our new Finance Officer,” Jonathan muttered behind his back.
Ignoring that dismissive introduction, I stood and nervously took the long-fingered hand still extending out to me. There was no denying the jolt of electricity that sparked through our fingertips, nor the tightening of his grip as his left hand closed around mine a second later.
I sucked in a breath as the aftershock bubbled through my veins. Heat slowly radiated up my arm, spreading throughout my body, reawakening something dormant low in my belly. His grip was strong and firm, yet somehow possessed a reassuring quality with its caress.
“Nate Blake,” he offered as an introduction, regarding me shrewdly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The entire tone of his voice had altered, quietening to a soothing, sexy whisper. It was so…intimate.
Blake definitely had a voice for sex.
“And you,” I murmured, all breathy and weak. It was all I could manage, rendered speechless by this impossibly handsome man standing in front of me. It was rare to find a man much taller than me when I wore heels. Given the few inches he had over me, I’d guess he was around six-three.
I found myself staring into clear blue eyes as deep as the ocean and likely just as dangerous. Unaware of what hid in their depths, I found them strangely calming.
Then—they darkened.
I felt the impact right between my legs. I licked my dry lips and turned my focus to his mouth, now slightly quirked at the corner. The sudden urge to touch the dimple presenting itself in his cheek had me clutching my tablet tight to my chest to stop myself.
“Are you okay?” His smoky voice broke through my daze. “Do you need your water?”
I blinked and raised my eyes back to his amused ones.
Jesus. Those eyes. That photo hadn’t done them justice at all. They were even more breathtaking in reality.
I couldn’t look away. Had I been thinking straight, his smirk would’ve told me he knew the effect he was having on me. But I wasn’t, because I’d been blinded by the gorgeous man in Prada, who still had a firm hold of my hand.
The arrival of two Brand Managers brought me crashing back to reality. Abruptly, I withdrew my hand, flustered I’d held his for longer than was politely acceptable.
With a cocky raise of his brow, Blake adjusted the knot of his tie. “We’ll talk soon, Miss Collins.”
Evidently unaffected by our encounter, he strode confidently towards his office. His shoulders were broad, waist trim, and his legs long and lean. He moved with such an easy, sexy swagger, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. When he glanced back over his shoulder, a small frown marring his exquisite features, I knew in that instant he had felt that strange charge between us.
“Kara,” Jonathan urged, pulling my concentration back, “Room 2?”
I got the impression he’d been talking to me. I quickly greeted the gentlemen who had joined us, keen to return my attention to the office in the far corner. When I did, Blake had removed his jacket and was sinking gracefully into the black leather chair behind his desk. Leaning forward, resting both elbows on the desk, he brought his hands to his mouth thoughtfully.
Piercing blue eyes found me again, and as I dragged my own away from him, was conscious of his lingering stare, following me as I walked into the meeting room next door.
AS expected, the meeting was relatively straightforward. I ran through the revised financials and was pleased the budget amendments were accepted without argument. Once all parties were satisfied, I took a back seat whilst Jonathan discussed other matters.
It gave me time to think about things I shouldn’t. Like a certain gentleman I’d met some forty minutes ago. I made an absolute fool of myself, barely stringing two words together, gaping at him like a smitten teenager rather than the mature, professional woman I was. The only consolation—I suspected he received that reaction all the time and wouldn’t have taken any notice—but it didn’t lessen my shame or humiliation. I rubbed my palm, recalling the feel of his smooth skin, and the heat that flooded my body when we’d touched.
Mai warned me Blake was good-looking, but damn, up close he was a work of art. One glimpse of those sculpted lips told me he’d be a great kisser. And the way he moved suggested there was no way on earth he’d be crap in bed. I fumbled with my stylus pen, fidgeting in my seat at my errant thoughts, whilst the conversation around me faded away. I couldn’t help glancing behind me, conscious he was sat the other side of the room.
Finally, the meeting concluded.
“Miss Collins?” a warm, masculine voice demanded behind me as I made my way to the lifts. My steps faltered, thus causing the Brand Manager following me out to stumble into my back. Muttering my apologies to him, I turned, and was greeted with the sight of the man who’d sent my pulse soaring again.
“I need a word. In my office.” Blake stepped aside in his doorway, gesturing inside with one hand. What did he want to talk about? Perhaps he had one-to-one chats with all new employees, though nothing had been mentioned to me before.
“Um…” With a panicked glance over my shoulder, I noticed Jonathan and the two gentlemen disappearing into the lift. They hadn’t given me a second thought, abandoning me here with possibly the most beautiful man I’d ever laid eyes upon. I was hit with his fiercely expectant gaze when I turned back. “…Okay.”
With my stomach spinning nervously, I moved towards him. He wore an expression I imagined him using when he was about to negotiate the terms of an important business deal. Focused, determined, not willing to budge until he was satisfied with the outcome. I tried ignoring the fact that, as I stepped into his expansive office, he moved forward, causing my arm to brush across his rock hard abs.
“Take a seat.” He pointed to a modular sofa on his right as he closed, and locked, the door behind us. I sat, feeling edgy and slightly awkward as I balanced my tablet on my knees and quickly hid my glasses under the leather cover.
The external décor flowed seamlessly into his office, and the rich wood furnishings added warmth to the light, airy space. The walls of windows, with unobstructed San Fernando Valley views, must ease the isolation of being the only person, aside from his assistants, on this level.
“How was the meeting?” Blake asked, making his way to a built-in dresser spanning the length of the wall. Standing with his back to me whilst he organised drinks, I couldn’t help but admire his pert backside. Two splendidly rounded globes of delicious taut flesh, the thought of running my hands over them made my skin heat.
Blake glanced over his shoulder and caught me drooling, enhancing my embarrassment ten-fold. I tried occupying my mind with something else, but struggled to ignore him. As if I could. Being in his presence, just the two of us, I was extremely aware of the strange, unseen energy between us once more.
“Good…I think,” I managed to say. “I didn’t contribute a lot, actually.”
The sound of ice hitting glass ceased as Blake stilled. “You’re English?”
He didn’t turn so I answered, “Um…yes?” to his back. “Is there a problem? I have all the necessary paperwork and visas.”
“No.” He cleared his throat. “No problem.”
Without another word, he finished making the drinks then made his way over. He set a tumbler of clear sparkling liquid in front of me and sank into the sofa opposite, draping an arm casually along the back, appearing unfairly relaxed. I eyed the square crystal glass, resisting the urge to gulp whatever it was down. Blake didn’t need to know how uncomfortable I was in his presence.
“I’m sure you made a valuable contribution,” he offered. “You impressed those gentlemen, judging by the contented smiles on their faces.” His mouth twitched as he fought his amusement. “Never underestimate your worth, Miss Collins. I only employ the best.”
He looked away, towards where his fingers stroked the back of the sofa. After a brief moment of silence, he sat forward and clasped both hands together, elbows resting on his knees. Those brilliant blue eyes fixed onto mine.
“Have dinner with me.”