“Ms. Parks.”
Fuck.
My name sounds positively sinful in the rumble of his baritone voice. His steely gaze never leaves mine as I stand there, once again paralyzed. Taking one step back, barely giving me enough room to come in, he motions with his right hand, his left hand holding the doorframe. I break the hold he has me under, shifting my attention to the wall of windows behind his desk.
They’re paned windows running from floor to ceiling, and the city is vibrant behind them. I know from experience it’s loud as hell far down from this high-rise. But right now, this sight could be a painting, a beautiful masterpiece of a deep blue sky turning a dusky gray with silver buildings that creep into the clouds, the yellow squares of illuminated office windows slowly bringing light to the incoming night.
I’ve never stepped foot in this office before. I’ve never been invited here by Holt, I only knew it was his office. From here on out he’ll be known as the asshole who took a hefty paycheck instead of giving this company what it truly needed. Essentially, he got a get-out-of-jail-free card and we got … Adrian Bradford.
The room is sparsely furnished. A hardwood maple desk carved with intricate detail catches my eye first. From the smell of lemon in the air, it’s been freshly polished. A dark auburn leather wingback chair sits at its head, with two high-back lounge chairs across from it.
Other than that, the vast room is empty, with blank walls that have been freshly painted as if it were brand new. In other words, on the market for the new buyer.
Anger simmers inside of me.
It’s only when the door shuts behind me that I remember exactly what I’m doing here. Although the city will never cease to amaze me. I shudder at the click behind me, turning quickly to find Adrian between myself and the door. Tapping the face of his watch, Adrian tells me, “It’s nearly six, Suzette.”
“Suzette?” is all I can manage. There’s tension between us, thick and hot.
His full lips slip into a smirk. “That’s what I said.” He’s calm and so damn sure of himself. Everything I normally am.
“Oh, I’m Suzette now?” Even to my own ears the indignation sounds feigned. My voice quavers as I add, “Only a moment ago I was Ms. Parks.”
With a single step forward, Adrian adjusts the expensive silk tie around his neck and his expansive, barren office ignites in an instant.
For a moment, a very quick moment, his icy blue gaze drops to my lips but then they reach my eyes again before I can object to wherever his thoughts have gone. “I said it’s nearly six,” he murmurs. “Well, after five.”
My fingers busy themselves with the hems of my sleeves. I haven’t felt so nervous in ages, not since I first stepped foot in this city. All of the anxiousness that comes with starting over, starting something new that pushes you out of your comfort zone is not unfamiliar to me, although it’s been a long damn time since I last felt this way. Not since my divorce was finalized.
“Is that a way to tell me to hurry up, Mr. Bradford?”
“No. Not at all. After six I have other business to discuss with you.”
“After six?”
“Once work is over.” He swallows and my treacherous mind focuses on the cords of his neck. The curves of it, the strength there and that masculine scent, fresh and clean with a hint of sandalwood.
“I beg your pardon, but I’m here on business.”
“Yes … other business than what we discussed this afternoon.” My pulse races as he locks his gaze with mine. I can’t help but to feel like the prey, already caught by a much too powerful hunter. One who wants to play with his dinner before devouring it whole.
“Other business?” Again my voice falters. I make the next statement firm. “What could I possibly want to discuss with you? Other than the threat of you simply stepping into this building.” I add with indignation, “My building.”
With the little courage I can muster, I lift up my chin. Feeling what I felt hours ago in that boardroom creep back into the forefront of my mind, I try to shove it down. He’s no longer a sex god reducing me to a puddle of want. He’s the man who threatens my very career. And for what? For statistics on the balance sheet? For the likelihood of an easy payout rather than doing the hard work?
Just as the thought hits me, Adrian checks his watch again. “It’s six now, Ms. Parks.”
His domineering stature abates as if he’s slightly more relaxed. He reaches up to loosen his tie. The act does horrible things to my conviction.
“You’re in need,” he states beneath his breath. I can barely focus on his lips as his deft fingers work to undo the top button of his shirt. In one step, he’s far too close and the smell of his cologne turns heavenly.