"She wasn't like that until recently." I hesitate, wondering how much I should reveal to Elena, but if I want to see more of her, outside of work, I suppose I ought to share more with her. "Our divorce was finalized two months ago. Raisa has always been tough, sometimes rude, but she didn't become a raging bitch until the final decree came through. It's my fault she's been terrorizing the staff."
"Uh-huh," Elena says with a touch of suspicion. "Freshly divorced sounds like big-time trouble to me. Maybe you shouldn't screw other women until you and Raisa get over each other."
"Iamover her. Have been for a long time. Our divorce might've been finalized two months ago, but we were separated for more than a year before that."
"Still don't want to get in the middle of your marital problems."
And I can't blame her for not wanting to get in the middle of it, but I've never met a woman who intrigues me the way Elena does. Or one who gets me randy the way she does. I want to know her better, but she won't let me. Working with Elena every day might kill me. At the very least, it will leave me with blue balls.
We watch each other for a moment, Elena seeming to size me up while I catalog all the things I love about her body. Full breasts, the kind that make me dream about all the things I can do to them with my mouth, my hands, and even my cock. Creamy skin with the faintest freckles on her face. Strong legs. I know that because she'd gripped me with one of those legs while I drove into her like a maniac. Her elegant fingers had clutched my head while I devoured her nipple. Her face is more than lovely, it's like a masterpiece of beauty sculpted by Michelangelo himself.
My curiosity gets the better of me, not for the first time, and I ask, "Why didn't you go to law school?"
"None of your damn business." She stands up and squares her shoulders. "What can I do for you this morning, Mr. Dixon? I'm sure you need to get up to speed with Lucas Miller's active cases."
I do, but that's the last thing I want to think about right now. Still, I rub my neck and say, "Yes, please pull all the files and bring them to me. I'll get started on the five hundred and thirty-two emails clogging my inbox."
"That's my job. I sort through them, delete the spam and other useless stuff, and let you know when it's safe to open your inbox."
"I appreciate that, Elena. Thank you."
"You're welcome." She turns toward the door, then hesitates. "Would you like coffee? I get Raisa's every morning."
"No, thank you. But I'd love a cuppa."
"A cup of what? You said no to coffee."
"Tea. That's what cuppa means."
Elena almost smiles. "I'm guessing that's the British way to say it. Sorry, but you are the first British person I've ever met. I don't think watching Henry Cavill movies counts."
"Probably not." I relax, really relax, for the first time since I arrived in New York. "I would love that cuppa, though. If it's not too much trouble."
"Of course not." Her cheeks dimple again. "I'm your slave, after all."
And fuck, just like that I'm imagining every possible scenario for making her my slave.
"Should I close the door or leave it open?" she asks.
"Leave it open."
Elena walks out the door, giving me a clear view of her luscious arse.
My desk phone rings.
The second I pick up the receiver, before I can speak one syllable, Raisa says, "I want you, Chance. Come to my office and take me on the desk."
My thoughts rewind to a few minutes ago, when I'd fantasized about doing exactly that with Elena.
"No, Raisa," I say. "We've been through this before, ad nauseam. I don't want you anymore."
"Oh come on," she purrs, "we both know that's not true."
"It is."
And I'm not lying. Part of me will always care about Raisa, as a friend, but I stopped feeling any attraction to her a long time ago. Maybe I'd been so desperate to shag Elena on Friday night because I hadn't been with anyone since the last time Raisa and I had sex.
"I'm doing you a favor here," I tell Raisa. "Don't make me regret it."