There’s no logical reason for disappointment to lodge in my chest like a knife. Kris Canterbar is way out of my league. Miles above it. Just because that interaction had an…almost ferocity, doesn’t mean anything. Especially if he’s a player.
Because there’s one thing that I know. I’ve worked too hard to get where I am to let anyone derail me. Do I want love? Yes. Am I willing to sacrifice all my hard work along with the sacrifices that I’ve already made? No.
So if what Jenna is saying is true, then that crosses Kris off the list of even just fantasies. I’m not ready for a player. I’m waiting for Mr. Right. And not even breathless touches and sexy winks are going to change that. Period.
3
Chianna
Pens, notepads, staples, Sharpies, tacks, and a bulletin board. I repeat the list in my head as I look around the tiny supply closet. The shelves are packed with so many different things it will be a miracle if I don’t find the Hope diamond in here.
Refilling office supplies isn’t exactly my idea of fun, but Uncle Meynard needs the supplies to start prepping the final version of his presentation, and what he says goes.
Unfortunately.
I find the box of tacks and pull it off the shelf.
But at the same time, at least here in the closet I get a little bit of relief. Because I can’t get Kris out of my head. Though that may be mainly because whenever I’ve been near him today, I could feel his eyes on me. My role here isn’t to be Meynard’s personal intern, but he got me the job, and I’m staying at his place. It makes sense for him to give me work. And he has. I’ve been all over the office delivering files and picking more up, and more often than not, I seem to run into Kris. Or walk by his office. Or see him grabbing coffee in the executive kitchen.
No matter where I encounter the man, his gaze settles on me like fire, and any resolve that I have to completely ignore the way that makes me feel, weakens and begins to crumble.
“Get yourself together, Chianna.”
That’s become my mantra for the day. He’s a player, and I have nothing more than a physical attraction. Which is fine. Anyone in their right mind would be attracted to Kris after meeting him. You can’t help that. That’s okay, but I don’t have to act on it. It’s only my third day. Staying around for at least a couple of weeks before I start sleeping around the office is probably a good idea.
I roll my eyes. As if I would ever sleep around the office. As if I would actually sleep with Kris. My virginity is more important to me than that. I want that first time to be…special. Not given to a player just because my heart starts to race when he looks at me.
Notepads, pens, staples, there are no bulletin boards in here. The Sharpies are on the top shelf that’s just above my reach. I’ll get them, though. I’m determined.
The bulletin board. Those are probably in the other supply closet. The one that’s directly across from Kris’s office. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I mutter.
Declaring that I’m not going to mess with the fucking gorgeous god of tech is a lot more effective when I don’t have to go by his office and feel that stare that I wish was a physical fucking touch.
“Depends on the joke.” A smoky voice says.
I yelp and nearly fall backwards. The man himself is standing behind me, watching me reach for the just-out-of-reach markers.
“Whether or not you are fucking kidding,” he clarifies. “You need some help?”
“I can probably get it.”
He steps closer to me. “But what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t help a lady in distress?”
“I’m not in distress,” I say, but my voice doesn’t make it seem that way. He’s so close that the air is thin in my lungs and my body seems fully determined to rebel against me.
Watching him reach up above my head and pull down the box of Sharpies is like a sexual act. Perfect suit bunching and stretching to accommodate a body that doesn’t need to be naked to announce that it’s a fucking masterpiece.
“Here you go.”
I swallow. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t think I’d find you in the supply closet.”
“People need their supplies, don’t they?”
Kris grins. “I suppose so. But I find that a good amount of the time, people don’t go into supply closest for actual office things.” His gaze drops down my body, lingering at the edge of my buttons and sliding down my legs like a caress before coming all the way back up to my eyes.
“What do they go in there for?”
I know exactly what he’s talking about. It’s too obvious not to, but right now I want to hear him say it. Just for a few more seconds of soaking in that velvet honey voice that I want to drown in.