do a good job at everything.
Although it didn’t surprise me too much. I wasn’t stupid. I knew this sort of job could make or break her whole career. I knew she had a lot riding on this. I just needed her to stay a little longer, and I needed to use the tools I had available.
“Yes?” she said, looking back at me but not leaving the doorway.
“Stay a bit longer.”
“I shouldn’t,” she said, “It wouldn’t be professional of me.”
“I won’t tell your boss if you don’t,” I shot back. “A few minutes is all I ask.”
She shrugged and shook her head, giving in. I brushed past her and led her upstairs to the third floor with its large living room and great view. I could see her admiring the place.
“This is really nice,” she said. She ran her hand along the breakfast bar and stopped to admire a piece of abstract art I had on the wall. Then she went over to the windows and looked out onto the street.
She nodded. “Yup. Nice. Mr. Ward, I’m happy you like my work so far, but I really think I should go now.”
I leaned against the banister, not blocking her way, but not inviting her to go, either.
“You should? Why? Are you afraid something might happen if you don’t?”
“No,” she said, getting that determined look on her face again. But now I knew that somewhere inside she did want me. She felt that draw other women felt around me. She was just better at resisting it.
Whoever thought that could be such a turn-on?
“So stay, then. Prove yourself right,” I said. I pushed away from the banister, moving so that I stood closer to her.
“No promotion is worth this,” she said, almost under her breath. I still made it out. “I’ll show myself out. Thanks for the coffee.”
She started for the stairs, but before she got there I spoke again. “Wait, just one more thing.”
Before she could ask what I reached out and plucked at the pins holding her bun in place. She let out a startled gasp as her hair tumbled in waves to her shoulders.
Having it in a bun all day like that made the ends curl up just so. It framed her face, making her look more feminine. The fair hair bringing those dark freckles out even more.
The throb inside of me turned into an ache.
“Hey!” she said.
“Just like I thought,” I said. “You’re beautiful, Quinn.” I offered her the bobby pins. I had to take a deep breath to steady myself. I found her intoxicating. I had to have her.
Chapter 8
Q UINN
He held the bobby pins out to me. The ends of my hair brushed against my ears and tickled at my neck.
I didn’t know how to feel. Mortification kept trying to well up from the pit of my stomach. But the way he kept looking at me stirred heat within me instead. I couldn’t deny that I was attracted to Ward. That I wanted him.
But I knew that I shouldn’t. He was exactly not my type. He would be so bad for me, and I wouldn’t exactly be good for him, either.
The woman inside me still yearned for him, though.
And his words still echoed in my head. You’re beautiful. And that’s how I knew it was all some game, because I wasn’t.
“No,” I said, taking the bobby pins back and squeezing them in my palm. “I’m not.”
I had to admit that it was even nicer up on this floor then on the first two. The couches, the art, the window, it all encouraged me to stay awhile.
When I first came up, though, I caught the hint of something. Some expensive perfume that just dripped sex. He’d had another woman up here not so long ago. Other women, plural, probably. They threw themselves at him and he was always there catch them.
I wished he’d just let me slip on by.
Smelling that had made me want to go, made me remember who he really was. But why did he keep looking at me that way?
“I think that you’ve been around me enough to know that I don’t pull my punches,” Vaughn said. “And you, Quinn, are beautiful. I noticed that the first time I saw you.”
He closed the distance between us so that I saw
Although it didn’t surprise me too much. I wasn’t stupid. I knew this sort of job could make or break her whole career. I knew she had a lot riding on this. I just needed her to stay a little longer, and I needed to use the tools I had available.
“Yes?” she said, looking back at me but not leaving the doorway.
“Stay a bit longer.”
“I shouldn’t,” she said, “It wouldn’t be professional of me.”
“I won’t tell your boss if you don’t,” I shot back. “A few minutes is all I ask.”
She shrugged and shook her head, giving in. I brushed past her and led her upstairs to the third floor with its large living room and great view. I could see her admiring the place.
“This is really nice,” she said. She ran her hand along the breakfast bar and stopped to admire a piece of abstract art I had on the wall. Then she went over to the windows and looked out onto the street.
She nodded. “Yup. Nice. Mr. Ward, I’m happy you like my work so far, but I really think I should go now.”
I leaned against the banister, not blocking her way, but not inviting her to go, either.
“You should? Why? Are you afraid something might happen if you don’t?”
“No,” she said, getting that determined look on her face again. But now I knew that somewhere inside she did want me. She felt that draw other women felt around me. She was just better at resisting it.
Whoever thought that could be such a turn-on?
“So stay, then. Prove yourself right,” I said. I pushed away from the banister, moving so that I stood closer to her.
“No promotion is worth this,” she said, almost under her breath. I still made it out. “I’ll show myself out. Thanks for the coffee.”
She started for the stairs, but before she got there I spoke again. “Wait, just one more thing.”
Before she could ask what I reached out and plucked at the pins holding her bun in place. She let out a startled gasp as her hair tumbled in waves to her shoulders.
Having it in a bun all day like that made the ends curl up just so. It framed her face, making her look more feminine. The fair hair bringing those dark freckles out even more.
The throb inside of me turned into an ache.
“Hey!” she said.
“Just like I thought,” I said. “You’re beautiful, Quinn.” I offered her the bobby pins. I had to take a deep breath to steady myself. I found her intoxicating. I had to have her.
Chapter 8
Q UINN
He held the bobby pins out to me. The ends of my hair brushed against my ears and tickled at my neck.
I didn’t know how to feel. Mortification kept trying to well up from the pit of my stomach. But the way he kept looking at me stirred heat within me instead. I couldn’t deny that I was attracted to Ward. That I wanted him.
But I knew that I shouldn’t. He was exactly not my type. He would be so bad for me, and I wouldn’t exactly be good for him, either.
The woman inside me still yearned for him, though.
And his words still echoed in my head. You’re beautiful. And that’s how I knew it was all some game, because I wasn’t.
“No,” I said, taking the bobby pins back and squeezing them in my palm. “I’m not.”
I had to admit that it was even nicer up on this floor then on the first two. The couches, the art, the window, it all encouraged me to stay awhile.
When I first came up, though, I caught the hint of something. Some expensive perfume that just dripped sex. He’d had another woman up here not so long ago. Other women, plural, probably. They threw themselves at him and he was always there catch them.
I wished he’d just let me slip on by.
Smelling that had made me want to go, made me remember who he really was. But why did he keep looking at me that way?
“I think that you’ve been around me enough to know that I don’t pull my punches,” Vaughn said. “And you, Quinn, are beautiful. I noticed that the first time I saw you.”
He closed the distance between us so that I saw
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