I wanted to talk to you actually... I’d hoped to meet you tonight... Do you have a second to discuss some business...?
This was easier in my head.
‘I’ll let you in on a little secret.’ He leans close conspiratorially, and I’m doused in the delicious manly scent of him. ‘I’d rather be working than attending an office party.’ Before I have time to clear the lust fog in my brain, he thrusts his hand in my direction. ‘Sterling Lombard.’
‘The man with his name on the door. Ava Hamilton-Wade,’ I say, giving him my full name, although I usually shorten it to my mother’s surname alone for professional clout. Sparks fire my erogenous zones as I shake his big, warm hand. Gorgeous and friendly. I wasn’t expecting him to be so down-to-earth, personable, and...hot.
‘I know what you mean about parties.’ I glance at my watch and roll my eyes. ‘Before nine and I’m all dressed up but headed home. I work sixty hours a week,’ I add in explanation. ‘Sleep is my downtime.’
Pathetic...
‘Ah, I see we have something in common,’ he says, as we share a knowing grin. Unexpected flirty banter wasn’t on tonight’s agenda, but I can’t seem to help myself.
I shiver with desire, looking away. I should just launch into my pitch, right here in the elevator. It’s the opportunity I came here for.
But...
It’s almost a shame to ruin this moment with business. From looks and instant chemistry alone, this guy is exactly my type. And I’m enjoying the distraction from constantly worrying about the prosperity of Hamilton’s. To say it’s ailing would be a terrifying understatement I try not to think about.
He shifts beside me. ‘Of course,’ he says, ‘what good is success if you can’t celebrate it every once in a while? That’s what the party upstairs is all about.’
‘I agree.’ My pulse leaps, arousal pooling in my belly.
He’s flirting with me, and my body is fully on board. It’s as if I’ve awoken from a long hibernation, my libido unfurling into the warmth of the sun. That’s the reason my reaction to him is so violent—I’ve practically been a nun for the past ten months. But my grandparents were sick, one shortly after the other. Part of me is convinced that Nonna died of a broken heart without Pops by her side.
The sudden, stomach-sinking slowing of the car tells me we’re about to stop on his floor. I shake off the sadness of losing Pops seven months ago and Nonna four months later, pressure building in my temples. If I don’t act quickly, Sterling will disappear and I may never again have this chance.
I swallow past my dry throat and flash him my alluring smile. ‘Perhaps we should head back upstairs and enjoy a drink together, snatch that chance to celebrate?’ My rusty seduction skills seem to surprise us both. But a friendly drink could be exactly the way to butter him up and secure the appointment I came for.
Yeah...that’s why you’re breathing hard and imagining his body under the clothes.
His stare takes a lazy tour of my face, ending on my mouth. My lips tingle as if he’s touched them with more than just his gorgeous green eyes. I realise I want that. He looks as if he’d be an excellent kisser and probably a sensational lover.
Lombard presses his lips together in a curious half-smile. ‘I have a better idea.’ The lift stops and the doors slide open. He presses the button to hold them apart. ‘There’s some twenty-five-year-old bourbon in my office. Can I tempt you?’
Probably into the fiery pits of hell...
‘I could be persuaded.’ I melt under his focused eye contact and that intense, seductive look on his face. But a private chat works even better for my purposes.
What the hell am I doing? Surely I intend to use my good fortune for my cause, not just to entice this man out of his ten-thousand-dollar suit?
Why not both...? Maybe we can laugh about this in the morning before we move on to business?
He holds out his arm, indicating the direction. ‘After you.’
I exit the elevator and follow him to the only lit office space on this floor. He holds open the door for me and I smile, murmuring my thanks. I’m a sucker for some good old-fashioned gentlemanly manners.
This guy’s positive attributes are growing.
His massive corner office boasts a sleek wooden desk and twinkling views of lower Manhattan’s financial district and the bay beyond. There’s a luxurious seating area with plush leather sofas, a colourful contemporary rug and convenient bar in one corner. A single lamp on the otherwise uncluttered desk lights a solitary laptop, leaving the rest of the office dimly lit and intimate.
For a second, I’m distracted by thoughts of my own cluttered workspace, the organised chaos of invoices and logbooks and potted plants on my desk. Sterling is a serious neat freak. An intriguing, nice-to-look-at neat freak.
‘Tell me, Ava,’ he says, shrugging out of his suit jacket and hanging it on a hook near the door, ‘do you work for Bold? I don’t recall seeing you before and I’d have definitely remembered.’
He loosens his tie and rolls up his shirt cuffs, his gaze swooping over me with clear interest. His compliment sends electricity dancing over my skin.
Now would be a good time to tell him exactly why I’m here. Instead I tilt my head, flashing my good side and subtly rolling back my shoulders so my breasts look their best in my slinky black dress.
‘No, I came with a business colleague from one of your companies.’ Just a little white lie. ‘We’ve never met before, although of course I know you by reputation.’
And now we’ve met I suspect sparks would fly were we to take this flirtation to the next level.
And why shouldn’t I indulge? I’ve spent years working my ass off for Hamilton’s, and I was happy to do it. Not only is the business my grandparents
