Chapter One
Christopher
Six months ago
The moment she comes into my office, I already regret I didn't give this job to Jack. He's my long-time friend and an incredible architect who builds all of my hotels and then lets his husband decorate them. They are a perfect match in life and at work. They are so good together that sometimes it makes me sick—in a good way, of course.
It's always easier to work with men, to be honest, even if it's a gay couple. But my sister insisted that I hire a woman; she said I need to give a young prospective female designer a chance.
At first, I thought maybe she was right. Eventually, she's the one who's gonna run that little hotel, more like a family inn, located in the middle of mountains, with only twelve rooms to welcome guests. I knew that even if it failed, it would not affect my hotel chain in any way.
Well, I was wrong. When Michelle Andrews walks into my office, the first thing that comes to my mind is that I want to fuck her. And that really complicates the situation. My number one rule is not to sleep with anyone I work with. I’ve stuck to it for many years, and I'm not going to change it now.
I take a breath. That means that I have to tell her that she's not qualified enough for this job and then ask her for dinner. We'll talk, we'll flirt, we'll fuck. End of story. And then I'll tell my sister there were no young women qualified enough for this job.
"Hello, Mr. Cold; I'm Michelle Andrews." She comes closer, and I do my best not to check her out from top to bottom, even though her round hips wiggle as she walks.
She wears a classic work outfit: a white blouse and black pencil skirt, emphasizing her thin waist, and red pumps that perfectly complement her look.
I get some weird feeling in my abdomen as I stand up to greet her. As if I want to fuck her right here, right now, on this table. As if I can't wait until I am inside of her.
What's wrong with me? No way I can be aroused only from the way she looks, can I? It's not like she came in naked. I've seen thousands of women dressed up like that.
She stands next to my desk table and extends a hand to me. Her skin is soft and tender, even though her hands are cold. I notice perfect French-manicured nails and an engagement ring on her finger.
She's not single. She's committed to another man.
The blood starts rushing faster in my veins, and I feel pounding in my temples.
Am I...angry? But why? Who cares if she's engaged? It's not like there's no one else to have sex with.
"It's nice to meet you, Ms. Andrews. Please, have a seat." I try to sound at ease, looking into her big beautiful brown eyes, with lashes so enormous they seem fake.
When our gazes meet, she gives me a smile.
Fuck, I'm screwed,I think to myself, unable to look away from her. That's the most beautiful smile I've ever seen in my life.
This woman is gorgeous, even though she's not exactly the type I usually date. But something in the way she looks, the way she moves and speaks, mesmerizes me, and I can't look away.
She has long dark brown hair, slightly curly, and huge hazel eyes, with spots of green in them when the sun rays fall onto her face. Her small nose, barely covered with freckles, and full rose lips and cheeks makes me wonder how old she is. I know she has a bachelor's degree in interior design plus three years of experience. But she looks way younger than that.
But it's not her beauty that attracts me the most. She's hot and charming, no doubt, but it's not just that. I don't know precisely what it is. Maybe it's her smile: joyful and sincere, as if she's truly happy.
"As you know, Mr. Cold, I've worked for Herman & Smith for three years, and I didn't take a single vacation," she starts, interrupting my thoughts as if waking me up from a dream. "I know, my experience is not a lot, but I want to assure you that I'm a hard worker. I...I know how to...work...and..."
"It's not the experience that I'm looking for, Ms. Andrews." I interrupt her because I see that it's getting hard for her to speak. "I've seen your work, and I like it. If I needed someone more experienced, I would've worked with Jack Crossby, the man I work with all the time. But this time, I need something different."
I have to tell her to leave. I have to look at the big fat folder she brought with her and tell her that it's not what I'm looking for.
But then I'll never see her again. She'll refuse my offer to have dinner because she's engaged. Or even married, and that's a taboo for me too.
She started breathing heavily, waiting for what I’m gonna do next. Her chest rises and falls, and I force myself not to stare at the notch between her breasts.
"I know that working for Herman & Smith is hard," I continue before she faints from nerves, "but on this project, you'll be the main designer. Are you ready to be in charge?"
She looks up at me, and her eyes glitter. "If you give me a chance, Mr. Cold, I'll do my best. I'll be working day and night to prove you made the right choice."
She looks just like a puppy from one of the cartoons my niece likes to watch. Those huge, stunning eyes of hers express so much hope. I have interviews with other people; at least five of them are more experienced with plans for the design that are just as good as hers.