Read Online One Mad Night by Julia London - Free Book Online Page B

kiss her. This was not a general, kiss-a-girl desire but a burning one. Red hot. Consuming.
    â€œYou knocked me down ,” she said, as if he was unaware of what he’d just done.
    â€œYou brought it on yourself,” he said. His gaze slid to her mouth again.
    â€œWhat are you looking at?” she demanded. She kicked him, managing to connect with his ankle.
    â€œOw, ow, ow,” he said, grimacing.
    â€œLet me up!”
    Ian grabbed her hand, yanked the salary chart from it, and shifted off of her. He pulled her up, and as Chelsea rearranged her skirt, he looked at the paper. “Wait,” he said, his brow knitting with confusion. “There are no salaries on here.”
    â€œNope,” she said as she pushed her hair from her face. “What kind of person do you take me for?”
    A clever one. The chart was titled, and the employee names were listed in alphabetical order. Next to them were their cube numbers and phone numbers. But the column for the salary information had been left blank.
    â€œI can’t believe this,” he said, holding the paper up. “I can’t believe you just used this chart to trick me.”
    â€œCan’t you?” Chelsea’s hands found her waist. “Are you going to tell me now?” she asked, poking him.
    â€œI’ve told you. I don’t know anything.”
    â€œLiar.” Chelsea cocked her head to one side and brushed something from his cheek. “Not a very good one, either. I would have thought you’d be really good at it. How about that drink?”
    â€œ Yes ,” he said.
    She smiled. “Follow me.”
    She led him through the cubes to one that had a sign hanging on the outside that said, Think Tank: Shark-Infested Waters.
    â€œYou’d have to know Marian,” Chelsea said. “She comes off as really strange. But she’s brilliant with advertising.” She disappeared inside, and Ian followed her, hesitating only once when he saw the mess in Marian’s cube. It made his cube look neat and organized. The level of chaos was ridiculous—papers were stacked high on the desk, with only a small space cleared for working. There were used plates and cups, dusty holiday tinsel, and sacks marked with the H&M logo from which protruded clothes with tags on them. There were Post-its with a scrawling handwriting on them, pictures of people, lots of people, and a calendar that was two years old. There were three potted plants on the floor—all dead—and a pile of shoes that looked as if someone had been gathering them up to give to charity.
    But on the wall behind the desk were several framed commendations and employee awards.
    â€œ This person has keys? Because the last thing this person needs are keys to the liquor cabinet.”
    Chelsea laughed. “I can’t disagree.” She stepped gingerly over the trash on the floor, leaning over the bags so far that her most excellent derriere was presented to him. She reached the keys and then popped up and around, holding another set of keys. “Here they are!” she said brightly. And then she frowned, having caught Ian in the act of admiring her bottom.
    He smiled guiltily and nervously dragged his fingers through his hair.
    â€œReally?” Chelsea said impatiently.
    â€œHey,” he said, throwing his hands up. “I can’t help but admire an excellent figure. I won’t say more than that because I don’t want anyone in this cubicle to call me a lech,” he said, pointing at her.
    â€œWise move.” She walked past him, carelessly bumping into him as she hopped over some things on the floor.
    Chelsea did possess a very nice ass, Ian thought as he followed her back to the conference room. One he would like to put his hands on.
    Ian watched as she opened the door to the conference room. “Ta-da!” she said, and she jingled the keys at him before sticking them back in the door. She went in ahead of