Read Online The Passionate Mistake by Amelia Hart - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Amelia Hart
Ads: Link
infinite variety. You could go really mad with it if you wanted.
“ It would create a more loyal base of users, because they’d fall in love with it and not want to switch to anything else. You let people do artwork on your software and they really take ownership, you know? And you’d get more word-of-mouth sales because women would like to show their friends what they’ve created. They can even print off the image of their schedule and keep it like a journal, but so quick and easy to put together they can do it even if they’re really busy; or if they don’t want to have their personal space completely dominated by actual, physical scrapbooking stuff.”
She paused to let him speak, expecting the praise she was com ing to enjoy and value from him; he who had turned out to be such an intelligent, discerning spectator to her efforts. She wasn’t disappointed.
“Hey, Cathy, this is really brilliant! I love it. We are going to run with this. Do you want to stay in control, or do you want me to hand it off to the design boffins?” As always he leapt straight from the idea to the details of implementation, his thinking moving in the swift leaps that saw projects pushed through the company with such dizzying speed.
“Oh, hand it off. I don’t know what I’m doing when it comes to the actual nitty gritty of it. Like, selecting the coordinating colors and so on. Give it to someone who’ll make a proper job of it.” She wasn’t possessive. She knew her limits, and she wouldn’t cripple an idea by tying it to the wrong person, though she appreciated the respect for her inspiration that lead him to make the offer.
“Show me what you did to create the overlays.”
So she explained it to him at length, popping in and out of the HTML and enjoying his delight at her cleverness. He was standing so close occasionally she brushed up against him as she moved or gestured. Her skin tingled as if running with electricity, but she shut it out, trying to be professional.
“. . . this and this in the program. See, like so,” and she had turned her head to check he was following where she indicated on the screen, and found him instead examining her mouth with a heated look that made her tingle and flush all the way to her toes.
It surprised her but s he didn’t hesitate. Impulse ruled. She knew what she wanted and if he wanted it to then she would go after it. Tilting her head to the right angle she moved sideways and kissed him. Not tentatively. Oh no. Not in Cathy character at all, her kiss was lush and wet and languorous; designed to tempt him.
He flinched back, startled, but she didn’t allow the small move to break contact, and in the next moment he was kissing her back as hungrily as she could wish, thumb and forefinger tilting her chin to exactly the angle he wanted.
The press ure of it pushed her back in the chair and her hands rose instinctively to grip his shirt, needing balance and something to steady her as the world spun around. The feel of his pectorals under her fingertips was delicious. He was warm and hard. Well defined. Arousing. His tongue stroked hers inside her mouth, slick and intimate. She moaned.
He broke away and took two steps backwards , his eyes widened, chest rising and falling. There was shock and consternation on his face. They stared at each other, breathing hard.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice gone husky. “That wasn’t appropriate of me. Can I ask you to forget it happened?”
“You didn’t do it. I kissed you. Remember?”
“And I kissed you back. As I said, not appropriate.” He turned away to walk to the windows looking out to the atrium, thrusting his hands deeply into his pockets. She realized if anyone in the Platform Division had cared to look around their massive bank of monitors across the atrium at their boss they would have seen the two of them kissing. Yet another disadvantage of an open-plan office.
“Look, don’t sweat it,” she said with a shrug,
“ It would create a more loyal base of users, because they’d fall in love with it and not want to switch to anything else. You let people do artwork on your software and they really take ownership, you know? And you’d get more word-of-mouth sales because women would like to show their friends what they’ve created. They can even print off the image of their schedule and keep it like a journal, but so quick and easy to put together they can do it even if they’re really busy; or if they don’t want to have their personal space completely dominated by actual, physical scrapbooking stuff.”
She paused to let him speak, expecting the praise she was com ing to enjoy and value from him; he who had turned out to be such an intelligent, discerning spectator to her efforts. She wasn’t disappointed.
“Hey, Cathy, this is really brilliant! I love it. We are going to run with this. Do you want to stay in control, or do you want me to hand it off to the design boffins?” As always he leapt straight from the idea to the details of implementation, his thinking moving in the swift leaps that saw projects pushed through the company with such dizzying speed.
“Oh, hand it off. I don’t know what I’m doing when it comes to the actual nitty gritty of it. Like, selecting the coordinating colors and so on. Give it to someone who’ll make a proper job of it.” She wasn’t possessive. She knew her limits, and she wouldn’t cripple an idea by tying it to the wrong person, though she appreciated the respect for her inspiration that lead him to make the offer.
“Show me what you did to create the overlays.”
So she explained it to him at length, popping in and out of the HTML and enjoying his delight at her cleverness. He was standing so close occasionally she brushed up against him as she moved or gestured. Her skin tingled as if running with electricity, but she shut it out, trying to be professional.
“. . . this and this in the program. See, like so,” and she had turned her head to check he was following where she indicated on the screen, and found him instead examining her mouth with a heated look that made her tingle and flush all the way to her toes.
It surprised her but s he didn’t hesitate. Impulse ruled. She knew what she wanted and if he wanted it to then she would go after it. Tilting her head to the right angle she moved sideways and kissed him. Not tentatively. Oh no. Not in Cathy character at all, her kiss was lush and wet and languorous; designed to tempt him.
He flinched back, startled, but she didn’t allow the small move to break contact, and in the next moment he was kissing her back as hungrily as she could wish, thumb and forefinger tilting her chin to exactly the angle he wanted.
The press ure of it pushed her back in the chair and her hands rose instinctively to grip his shirt, needing balance and something to steady her as the world spun around. The feel of his pectorals under her fingertips was delicious. He was warm and hard. Well defined. Arousing. His tongue stroked hers inside her mouth, slick and intimate. She moaned.
He broke away and took two steps backwards , his eyes widened, chest rising and falling. There was shock and consternation on his face. They stared at each other, breathing hard.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice gone husky. “That wasn’t appropriate of me. Can I ask you to forget it happened?”
“You didn’t do it. I kissed you. Remember?”
“And I kissed you back. As I said, not appropriate.” He turned away to walk to the windows looking out to the atrium, thrusting his hands deeply into his pockets. She realized if anyone in the Platform Division had cared to look around their massive bank of monitors across the atrium at their boss they would have seen the two of them kissing. Yet another disadvantage of an open-plan office.
“Look, don’t sweat it,” she said with a shrug,
Similar Books
