Page 9 of Company Ink

"What?" Kitty asks as we round the corner.

"I saw his picture online," I pause, trying to read Kitty's expression. "I'm just wondering, is he actually that ho—"

Before I can finish my sentence, Kitty's dainty hand grabs my forearm, her nails digging into my skin.

I stop dead in my tracks.

My eyes shift to the pair of shiny loafers on the floor in front of me. My gaze travels up the long length of the owner of the Salvatore Ferragamo dress shoes. Even though I'm mortified, I can't help but admire the navy blue fitted suit or the lean muscle frame which it's wrapping. Once my gaze reaches past his paisley print pocket square, my breath catches in the back of my throat.

Shit.

Adrian is standing in front of us, a knowing grin spread on his immaculate face.

Did he hear me?

"Hi..." I finish with a shaky breath, my knees about to give out.

Well, at least now I have my answer. No filter. No photoshop.

Just pure unadulterated fucking sex appeal.

Chastity gods, you better be with me.

five

verbal footsie

Oh my God, someone please say something!

Adrian studies me intently before shifting his gaze to my skittish colleagues. "Kitty, Manpreet would like to see you," he finally says. Kitty nods feverishly and scatters away, David close behind her.

Traitors!

And then there were two.

Adrian turns his attention back to me. "You must be Miss Carrington," he states in a low hum, his dark brown eyes giving me a slow once over. I'm acutely aware that my hand is slightly trembling, and hot water is spilling down the side of my mug and onto my fingers, but I keep a straight and calm face despite the fact my skin is burning off.

I smile confidently, refusing to look shaken. He didn't hear me. He couldn't have. I was whispering...right? "Cassie is fine."

"Cassie." My name slips out of his mouth like liquid honey. His groomed eyebrows perk up as he rubs his clean-shaven chin. "I'm Adrian Cavallero." After a beat, he extends his hand towards me, almost daring me to touch it. "It's nice to finally meet you."

His soft yet gruff hand encircles mine so slowly that my breath hitches. His palm feels like a plush blanket, so warm and comforting, but there's a certain aggressiveness to his grip that sends a blast of heat into the pit of my stomach. I imagine his lean fingers creeping up my bare arm and onto my shoulder, slithering down my heaving chest and... oh Jesus fucking Christ.

No! Nope. Nope. Nope. It's just a handshake. A sensually arousing one, but a handshake, nonetheless. He's being professional. Heisa professional.

And so am I.

... I hope.

"Let's go chat in my office," Adrian suggests, his slight Spanish accent sending shivers down my spine. "Seeing as we'll be working closely together, we should get to know each other."

"Definitely," I agree in a steady smooth tone. "I'dloveto get to know you."

Everysinglepart of you.

Adrian's top lip curls into a faint smirk. "After you."

I let out a tiny inaudible breath and flip my hair as I saunter down the hallway to his office. Swaying my hips methodically side to side, I pass Kitty and David who both toss me an apologetic look. Honestly, if I was them, I'd run off too. Self-preservation and all.

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