Page 9 of Cloud Storm

I wasn’t the only person waiting, so as the minutes passed, I became more and more nervous.

And then a tall, slim yet imposing man entered the room and called out for number nineteen.

Which just happened to be the number I was holding. From that first moment, he seemed intimidating.

Tremendously intimidating.

My mouth went dry and the words stuck in my throat. He must have read the expression on my face, for he looked at me from head to toe raising an eyebrow as an interrogation.

If he was the only available executive, I was screwed, really screwed.

And my business too.

Trying to compose myself and make a good impression, I cleared my throat, but only a pathetic squeak escaped.

“Please head this way, ma’am. My name is Lance Hills and I’ll be assisting you today.”

Something I couldn’t fault the Adonis for were his impeccable manners. He indicated with his hand that I should walk in front of him.

“Just there, at the end of the hall, please,” he said, as my hands sweated more and more with every step I took.

Never in my life had I been more nervous, although at this point in the game it was highly doubtful this was only down to the credit application I had come to make.

At the end there was an open door, with a sign on it that read ‘Lancelot Hills’ and a little further down ‘Senior Investment Manager’.

It was a miracle I hadn’t passed out. My knees were shaking and I was grateful that my shoes were almost flat, because if I’d been wearing heels I would surely be kissing the floor right now.

“What can I do for you today, ma’am?” he asked as he walked in behind me to close the door, the scent of his cologne enveloping me like a spell. It smelled of wood, leather, and something mysterious that I couldn’t decipher. It was delicious.

Body melting dangerous.

He walked into the office, looking at me with a frown again, and after beckoning me to take a seat in one of the armchairs in front of his large oak desk, he did the same, releasing a button on his tailored suit jacket.

“I’m here to apply for a small business loan.” I surprised myself with the firmness of my voice.

“Have you put in an official request?” he asked, staring into my eyes. His were a deep amber color, framed by thick brown eyelashes, only slightly darker than his hair.

This Hills man must surely be the heartbreaker of the entire bank. He was not beautiful in the classical sense, his features were too pronounced, but the combination was overwhelming and add in to that his confident manner, few women would resist his charm.

And to my bewilderment, it turned out that I was not immune to him either.

“Here is the documentation. I made a copy of the online application and I’ve brought everything it asked for,” I replied, offering my folder to him.

He took the folder, opened it and to my surprise didn’t put it on the desk, but instead leaned back, and immediately began his intense evaluation.

Well, he was doing his job and I was immersing myself deeper and deeper into the sea of contradictions in which I intended to sail.

Using his long fingers, he passed and reviewed each of the documents he had taken from me. And while he did that, I imagined what it would be like to feel them running over my skin. I had no idea where that longing had come from, but there it was and it was growing and getting stronger the longer I sat there, making it impossible for me to ignore it.

That puzzled me, because the man in front of me played in a very different league from mine. And I am not only talking about money, but also about the clear differences between us.

We were like water and oil.

Polar opposites.

Negative and positive.

And yet it was impossible to deny the magnetism.

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