“You wouldn’t talk to him—you’d stick a ball gag in and fuck him stupid,” Ava says as she watches him. “I bet he’s hung like a horse,” she whispers.

We all burst out laughing. “What are you doing this weekend?” I ask Ava.

“She’ll be chasing rich boys,” Aaron says.

“Damn right.”

My eyes flick to her. “What does that even mean?” “I hang out at clubs where the men have money.” “Why?” I frown.

“I am not ending up with a broke loser.”

My mouth falls open in horror. “So . . . you would marry a guy just for money?”

“No.” She shrugs. “Maybe.” She looks up. “Oh no, here he comes,” she whispers.

Ricardo comes over and sits on the corner of my desk. The floor manager has gone home for the day, so he’s not even bothering to pretend to work anymore.

“Hey there.” He smiles.

“Hi,” I reply flatly. Please go away—you’re embarrassing.

“Ricardo wanted to come and check on his favorite coworker.”

I stare at the stupid human being in front of me. “Why do you speak about yourself in the third person?” I ask.

Aaron snickers as he pretends not to listen.

“Ricardo wonders why you never come to his desk to see him.”

“Emily likes to get her work done,” I mutter flatly.

“Oh.” He laughs as he points at me. “Ricardo likes your style, Emily.”

I begin to work, and he stays sitting on the corner of my desk while he rambles, hardly coming up for air. Every now and then the four of us exchange looks, unable to believe what a tool this guy is.

From the corner of my eye I see the elevator doors open, and then I see somebody run back to their workstation. Huh? I look up to see Jameson Miles striding down the carpeted corridor toward my desk. His jaw is clenched, and he is glaring at Ricardo.

People are standing up in their cubicles to see who it is, and when they see him, they immediately drop into their chairs in fear.

What the hell is he doing here?

I watch in slow motion as he comes to a halt in front of my desk. Ricardo glances over and then nearly swallows his tongue and stands immediately. “Mr. Miles,” he stammers. “Hello, sir.”

“What are you doing?” Mr. Miles growls.

“I was training our new employee,” he splutters. “This is Emily,” he says, introducing me.

Aaron’s eyes meet mine in horror.

“I am well aware of who Emily Foster is and how often you frequent this desk. This is your first and final warning,” he growls. “Get back to work, and do not let me catch you here again.”

The blood drains from Ricardo’s face. “Yes, sir,” he whispers.

Mr. Miles glares at him and clenches his jaw in anger. “Go. Now.”

Ricardo practically runs back to his desk, and I stare at the gorgeous creature in front of me.

Gray suit, white shirt, paisley tie. He really is the epitome of suit porn.

“Emily, I need to see you in my office. Now,” he snaps before he turns and strides back toward the elevator, not bothering to wait for my reply.

I swallow the lump in my throat as I stand.

Aaron’s, Ava’s, and Molly’s eyes are wide with fear. “What the fuck?” Aaron mouths as he squeezes my hand in sympathy.

I exhale heavily and turn and follow the office god into the elevator as everyone watches. The doors close behind us.

Jameson glares at the doors, and I twist my fingers nervously in front of me as we fly up through the floors. Oh man, he’s going to fire me. That stupid fucking Ricardo has gotten me into trouble. This is all his fault.

I wasn’t even talking back to him . . . you know.

When we get to the top floor, the doors open, and once again he strides off. I hesitate. Does he expect me to run after him? I’m not a fucking puppy.

Who in the hell does this asshole think he is?

I fake a smile at his receptionist and storm in after him. He holds the office door open for me, and I brush past him. He closes the door and flicks the lock.

“What are you doing?” he snaps.

“Is that a trick question?” I hold my arms out wide. “I’m standing in your office. What does it look like?”

“I mean, why the hell are you openly flirting with that idiot from downstairs?” he demands.

My mouth falls open in horror. “I wasn’t flirting.” “Bullshit. I saw it with my own fucking eyes.”

“What?” I snap. “Don’t tell me you dragged me all the way up here to chastise me about talking at my desk while I work.”

“I am not paying you to get hit on, Emily,” he growls.

I put my hands on my hips as fury begins to pump through my bloodstream. “Listen here, you.” I hold my finger up. “Firstly, I’ll get hit on by whomever I want.”

He narrows his eyes and puts his hands on his hips, too, mirroring my stance.

“Secondly”—I put my second finger up—“as my boss, you do not get to comment on my dating life.”

“Ha,” he huffs as he rolls his eyes in disgust.

“Thirdly”—I hold three fingers up—“I’m new in town, and I have no friends, so if he’s being nice, I’m not going to be rude, am I?”

“Not on my time,” he growls.

“Did you really drag me all the way up here just to say that?” I frown.

“No,” he barks. “I want to know why you won’t go out with me.”

My face falls. “Are you serious?” I whisper.

“Deadly.”

The mood between us changes and turns from anger to something else.

“Because I can’t risk losing my job if we don’t work out.”

He stares at me for a moment. “That job interview you were going for twelve months ago. Was it here?”

I pause for a moment. Now I’m going to sound like a loser. “Yes.”

“How long have you been trying to get a job here?”

“Three years,” I huff. “So forgive me if I don’t want to throw it away for a one-night stand.”

“Why would you think I would fire you?”

“Isn’t that what CEOs do when they have finished with their secretaries? Throw them to the side?”

He frowns as he watches me. “I wouldn’t know—I’ve never been attracted to someone I work with. And besides, I think this place is big enough that we could stay out of each other’s way.”

“You’re still attracted to me?” I whisper.

“You know I am, and it’s just dinner,” he snaps. “Nobody would even know, and I most certainly wouldn’t fire you in the morning.”

“So . . .” I frown as I try to work out what the hell it is that he wants. “You would keep me a dirty little secret?”

He steps forward so that our faces are only an inch apart; our eyes are locked.

Energy begins to spark between us, and I feel my arousal sweep in. “Were you in a relationship when we spent the night together?” I ask.

“What makes you say that?”

“You never asked for my number.”

He gives me a slow, sexy smile as he tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. “Does everybody ask for your number, Emily?” His voice has dropped to a deep, sexy tone.

“Pretty much.”

“I wasn’t looking for anything back then, and I most definitely don’t tell people I’m going to call them if I’m not.” He dusts his thumb over my bottom lip as I stare up into his big blue eyes.

“Tonight,” he whispers.

I smile softly as his breath tickles my skin. He really is quite . . .

“I’ll pick you up. Dinner at my favorite Italian restaurant . . .” His voice trails off as if he’s imagining something else.

Oh, that sounds good. I smile as he leans closer. His lips tenderly touch mine as he holds my jaw in his hand. My eyes close as my feet lift from the floor.