Madison

He flicks me an amused look, and ignores what I said. “Why don’t you tell me what events you need outfits for?” It’s taking everything in me not to swoon over how perfect this man is. The way he’s looking at me tells me he knows the effect he has on my body. I pull myself back and think of something else, so I won’t make a fool of myself.

“I’d like to get to know you more.”

“What else do you want to know? I’ve told you so much already.”

“What’s your favorite flower?”

I tilt my head to the side and reveal more than I intend to. “Orchids, lilies, and tulips. I hate white flowers because they remind me of funerals. Yellow flowers aren’t appealing. I like the pink and red flowers. When I get flowers, it’s from someone who cares about me, so that’s why I like those colors in my bouquet.” I need to bring this conversation back to why I’m here. I have no intention of being friendly with Bryce outside of my job. At this point, since no work has been done, I should walk out of his office and head back. I’ll explain to Glenn that Bryce needs a new stylist and I shouldn’t work with him. “Can we discuss your wardrobe?”

Bryce lifts his brow, clearly surprised that I’m changing the topic and not playing his games. “Of course.” He gets up from the couch and leans against his massive desk. “I need a casual outfit, a few workout outfits, and a new tuxedo.”

I write down what he needs and make a note to check his file. “Is everything on the file for you updated?”

“Yes.”

I keep my eyes down and steady my breathing. “Okay, sounds good. I’ll head back and get these outfits picked out and shipped to your home.”

Bryce’s hand gently rests on mine, and the tingles of his touch explode across my skin. “I’d like for you to drop them off this evening.”

I clear my throat and avert my attention from our hands to his eyes. His perfect caramel-colored eyes.

Deep.

Sensual.

Beautiful.

“Excuse me?”

He smirks and cocks his head to the side. “As my personal stylist, I need you to take in that whatever I need, you’ll do it for me. Didn’t Glenn explain my expectations?”

I smile politely. “I understand, and yes, he did. Is there anything else I can do for you?” Now, I’m annoyed. Forget how gorgeous and perfect he is because below all that is a spoiled man who thinks everyone should fall at his feet.

“Since you refuse to have dinner with me tonight, I’ll have dinner ready for us when you come over to drop off the outfits. Tonight, Madison.”

This isn’t a battle I’m going to win so I wave the imaginary white flag and submit to his demand. “Okay, fine.”

“Okay, then. We’re all set.”

If he continues to stare at me in that manner, my body will burst into flames. I’m watching the way his eyes are drinking me in. His pupils dilate, and the colors of his eyes turn lustful. My skin’s burning with desire, and I can’t shake it off. The electric current flowing between us pulls us together like two magnets of opposite polarities. All common sense dies while my body comes alive again. The scorching sensation causes me to slowly lose myself in him, and I have zero control when I’m in the same space as him. The attraction I feel doesn’t dissipate when he inches closer to me and brushes his finger across my cheek to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. The action only fuels the fire.

“Are you okay?”

This is pathetic. I’m a damn professional, and I can act like it. So what if he can make my panties twist and run off with just a look? The amusement on his face annoys me to no end. He knows what he’s doing to me and won’t back off. There’s no way I can accept him as my sole client.

I can’t.

No.

I won’t do that to myself.

There’s a knock on the door, and the corners of his lips twitch a little before he looks up and away from me. I take this interruption as a chance to silently blow out my breath.

“Mr. Hunter, here’s your lunch.”

“Thank you, Monica.”

Monica, the beautiful woman with long blond hair and pretty dark blue eyes, is wearing a skintight black dress. Her heels are sleek black. The way she’s looking at him causes a small pang of jealousy.

Oh, shut up, Madison.

“You’re welcome, Mr. Hunter.”

Monica leaves his office and shuts the door. Once it’s closed again, he turns to me and motions for me to sit down at the conference table by the window.

“We can go over what I prefer while we have lunch. The information you may have on me needs to be updated.”

“Now? I thought you just said everything on file is up to date.”

“Why ever not?” he asks, studying my expression. “I’d like to make sure you have what you need. I’m a man with high expectations, and I don’t like mistakes, Madison. Mistakes are a sign of not paying attention or being careful. I’d like for you to understand where I’m coming from.”

Before I’m able to answer, he places his hand on the small of my back and pushes me over to the conference table. He pulls out a chair, so I can sit down. His touch scorches my skin, and I don’t want him to let go. The fierce control he has over my movements is making me mentally berate myself for allowing this to happen. This behavior isn’t professional.

“Is there anything else I should know about you?” he asks, taking out the containers from the bags and putting the food on each plate. “I hope you like Thai.”

“I do.”

“It’s very spicy. Extreme. Can you handle that?”

My breath catches, and I remind myself he’s talking about the food and not anything sexual.

“Of course. The more extreme, the better.” I close my eyes and realize what I just said and how it could be misinterpreted.

“Good to know, Madison.”

He walks over and places the plate in front of me before going back to finish his plate and then strolling to his chair. Without moving his eyes away from me, he sits down.

Stop being a dork. Seriously. Get your shit together, Madison! I yell at myself. Since coming into his office, I’ve been acting ridiculous. Come on. I’ve been around hot guys before. Bryce Hunter isn’t anything special even if we had a hot night together. I need to push it aside and remember to remain professional.

We eat in silence, and I’m so thankful. That is, until he says, “Seven o’clock. Be sure you are prompt.”

“Don’t worry about me being late or not coming.”

“Oh, I know you’ll come, Madison. I don’t doubt that at all. You’ll be frequently coming.”

That’s it. I cannot and will not work for this sexy as sin man. The dimple in his cheek appears, and it’s the sexiest thing about him besides his dark brown eyes.

“May I use the bathroom?”

“Of course.” Bryce stands up from his chair and comes to stand next to me, extending his hand. I take it, and feel the heat rushing through my arm. This electric current is something I've never felt, and I'm not sure what to make of it.

He guides me to the back of his office and gestures for me to go in. “Thank you,” I whisper. I make the mistake of looking over my shoulder and see the smoldering look he's giving me. I shiver from the desire pooling in his eyes. He’s the only man to ever look at me like that.

And I like it.

Walking in, I shut the door behind me. I stare at the door, wondering if Bryce is standing out there waiting. Locking it, I walk backward until my back hits the counter. It's beginning to be too much being here with him—the man I had my first one-night stand with. All the emotions and thoughts sprinting in my mind are throwing me back and forth. I have no idea what to do.

After doing my business, I try to formulate a plan, but nothing's coming to mind. I'm not a good liar or bullshitter. He'll see right through me. Turning on the faucet, I allow the warm water to run down my hands. Then pressing my hands to my cheeks, I try to calm down the heat that’s building.

“You are a professional, Madison Smith. Professional. Stop looking at him like that. Stop drooling, and for fuck’s sake, pull yourself together,” I chastise myself in the mirror.

I have way too much on my shoulders. I can’t mess up my job here, and there’s no way I can ever be involved with a man like Bryce Hunter again. We’re too different. He's confident and runs an empire while I have no idea what I want to do with my life. Plus, he looks like a man who only dates models and the most beautiful women in the world. I’m not ugly, by any means, but there’s a difference between drop-dead gorgeous and cute.

Instead of paper towels, I find heated washcloths. Well, that’s interesting. I press the warm cloth to my cheeks, one at a time, and let out a breath before placing it in a bin and exiting the bathroom. As the door shuts behind me, I see Bryce Hunter leaning against the wall.