Page 8 of Her Holiday Heartthrobs

An invisible vise cranks in my chest as I meet those dark chocolate eyes. Eli Rockwell, the CEO, and one of Dad’s other best friends. Which means before I turn to meet the third gaze in the room, I already know who I’m going to see.

Dark blonde hair, piercing green eyes, and a perpetual frown, Jake Young lounges on the end of the couch. The last part of the trio that spent more Sunday afternoons at my house growing up than I can remember. The three of them were Dad’s old football buddies, and although I never really hung out when they were over, I recognized them immediately.

It took every fiber of my being not to sink into the little girl I once was, sneaking peeks at them from the stairs and concocting daydreams of being a grown woman shared between them. Because they were all equally gorgeous.

I’d forgotten that they ran a business together. A hotel conglomerate.

The one where I was just hired to work under the three of them. My thighs clench at that thought before I shake it away.

How on earth am I going to be able to do my job?

ELI

Good God, when did Patrick’s daughter get so hot? That form-fitting navy suit shows off the shape of her calves and thighs, accentuates the taper of her hips to waist, showcases her full chest and highlights the arresting blue of her eyes.

I knew that little girl I’d seen around Patrick’s house on football Sundays would be working here, but she’s not a little girl anymore. And yes, logically, I was aware of that, but I was not prepared for what walked through my office door.

Paige meets my gaze, and I’m drowning in heat. She is absolutely stunning. Why didn’t Patrick warn me? Surely, he is objective enough to see that his daughter is smoking hot. And the sharp mind blazing behind her eyes only adds to her overall allure.

Her attention shifts to Jake, and I take a leisurely lap around her body. Fuck, I’m a creep, but I can’t help myself. My hands itch to crawl under her suit jacket, to smooth over the silky material of her top and smash all of that softness against my hard body.

Sipping my coffee, I warn my cock to stand down before it gets me in trouble. So much trouble where Paige is concerned.

Henry shoots me a warning glare like he’s reading my mind. I’m sure he can. Because I’m also sure that he’s thinking the same things I am. Or he did when he saw her first thing this morning.

I clear my throat and step forward, offering her my hand like I would any new employee. Her fingers are delicate, but her grip is strong. “Welcome to Rockwell International, Miss Monroe.”

A hint of a smile hits the corners of her mouth, but it blazes in her eyes. Mesmerizing. “Thank you, sir.”

I grin at her as she pulls back. She’s present but reserved, and the desire to tease her sinks its claws into my back.

Jake stands to shake her hand as well. “Nice to see you again.”

“You too, sir.”

Jake’s nostrils flare, but he gives no other indication that she’s affected him. If only she knew how that simple word sets him off. “Jake, please.”

She nods but doesn’t seem convinced. That must have been drilled into her during her degree.

“Would you like something to drink? Water? Coffee?” I lift my own cup in an offer for her to join me. I order top quality Kona beans from Hawaii and grind them myself, so the coffee has a rich, bold but smooth flavor with tropical notes. A small splash of milk and my morning is perfect.

“No. Thank you.” The soft pink of her cheeks is the only indication of her youth and vulnerability. It amplifies my want to touch her. Mentally slapping myself, I need to behave, but I can tell already that it will be a struggle.

“Take a seat, and we’ll get started,” I tell her and gesture to one of the open spots around the seating area.

Paige chooses a lone chair and crosses her long, shapely legs before opening her portfolio and setting it in her lap. A pen appears in her hand with a snap, and she’s poised to take notes.

I like her gung ho attitude and how prepared she is already.

Slipping into the chair beside her, I drain half of my coffee before setting the cup aside. Henry sits with Jake on the couch, reclining like a man in his element, although I think all three of us are on edge.

We learned to control our body language long ago. It’s a necessary trick of the trade. Business deals are made off of those minuscule nonverbal cues.

Crossing my ankle over my knee, foot pointing toward Paige to keep from appearing closed off, I rub a hand across the beginnings of my beard. “I’m not sure how much you were told about the job or the project we would like you to manage, but I figure a full rundown is in order.”

“A full rundown would be welcome, sir.”

I hold back a laugh but give her my panty-dropper grin. If it affects her at all, she doesn’t show it. Her pen is poised and ready to take notes.

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