Page 1 of Elevating Eve

CHAPTER 1

Jonathan

Jonathan scanned the architectural plans and financial statements spread across his desk and sighed. What a clusterfuck. Closing his eyes, he tried, without success, to massage away the band of pain squeezing his forehead like a vise.

Fairford Manor was starting to fall apart. The weird thing was that Jonathan couldn’t even bring himself to be upset about it. Perhaps because it wasn’t crashing down around him...more like it had begun to fray a little at the edges. While pulling on any of the loose threads wouldn’t exactly destroy what he and the others had built here, it would never look the same either.

Revenues were way the fuck down. They’d already sunk millions into a new construction project that, so far, produced little more than a permanent stress headache. And though guest satisfaction remained remarkably high for a resort—let alone one that specialized in fulfilling their guests’ deepest, darkest BDSM fantasies—it was starting to drop ever so slightly.

Not that it surprised Jonathan.

For its first five years, all the Manor’s Doms provided around-the-clock experiences for each and every guest. Total immersion in the fantasy. A solid week in the sexiest dream imaginable. But now...withmore and more of them falling in love and pairing off, change became the only option.

Or at least the only option with any chance of long-term success.

At the end of the day, that was Jonathan’s number one job at the Manor. Keep it all together and inexorably moving forward, no matter what speedbumps or roadblocks got in the way.

A knock sounded on his office door. Jonathan straightened in his chair and arranged his features into a look of polite apathy. “Enter.”

Jonathan held back a groan when he saw who walked through the door. “Please don’t tell me there’s another issue.”

Frank Talley’s answering grin did nothing to reassure Jonathan. The man owned the construction company currently three months behind schedule on the Manor’s expansion project, and he donned that same phony expression no matter what news he planned to deliver.

“Unfortunately,” Talley started, and Jonathan didn’t bother stopping his groan this time. Why did more than half this fucker’s sentences start with that word? Talley pursed his thin lips. “I can come back later if this is a bad time.”

“Sorry, I’m having a rough day. Just lay it on me.”

Talley lifted his eyebrows in that irritatingly superior way of his. “As you wish. The tile you chose for the bathrooms has been discontinued.”

“Of course it has.” Couldn’t a single thing go right with this project? “Can we buy out whatever they have left in stock?”

There was that fucking smile again. For fuck’s sake, why did he ever agree to hire this guy? “I checked on that, but unfortunately, we’d only be able to finish eleven of the bathrooms if we went that route. If that’s how you’d like to proceed...” His tone made it very clear he thought it was a bad idea.

Yeah, well, no shit. Jonathan was perfectly capable of determining that on his own. “No, I still want them all to match.” The twenty new guest rooms needed to be so perfect that no one minded staying in the new building instead of the main Manor house. He and the other partners had envisioned them as identical spectacles of luxury, and he refused to compromise on that vision.

Jonathan rubbed at his forehead again, willing his stress headache to disappear. No chance of that happening anytime soon.

“I anticipated you’d feel that way.” Smugness dripped from each word, as if it was some great accomplishment to guess Jonathan would keep the opinion he’d already strongly expressed. “My assistant should be along shortly with new samples for you to review.”

As if his words had summoned her, another knock sounded on the office door. “Enter,” Jonathan said, voice a good deal kinder this time.

Jonathan did his level best to act as if nothing of note happened when Eve shuffled sideways through his door, a large box gripped in both hands. But the truth of the matter was, she took his breath away every goddamn time he saw her.

She had a face that should inspire artists to launch another Renaissance—perfect cheekbones, the most kissable lips he’d ever seen, a jawline he wanted to trace with his tongue. But it was that exceptionally thick, shiny, coffee brown hair that he literally dreamed about. He wanted to release it from her ever-present ponytail and run his fingers through it.

Wrap it around his fist and tug to expose her throat.

He wanted to touch her. Feel every inch of her softness and find all her hard edges. Discover her body’s deepest secrets, always hidden beneath shapeless mom jeans and oversize shirts with her company logo on them.

Not that her outfit choices surprised him, given the amount of time she spent traipsing through the construction site, keeping an eagle eye on every aspect of the project. Meanwhile, Talley was all bluster and grandstanding in his immaculate, ill-fitting suit.

Without so much as a thank you, Talley yanked the box out of her hands. “You sure took your time.”

Though he murmured the words, Jonathan had no trouble hearing them. A wave of anger rose from his belly up into his chest. “Respectfully, Mr. Talley, it’s pretty obvious she did nothing of the kind.”

Talley’s eyebrows shot up again, and for once, he looked surprised rather than arrogant. “I beg your pardon?”

Gesturing in Eve’s direction, Jonathan went on in the same clipped tone. “Look at her. Her skin is flushed. She’s out of breath.” Not something he’d expect for someone in such fantastic shape and on a mild day. He looked into her eyes—took in the shock and gratitude there. “Youran up both flights of stairs, didn’t you?” He’d turned one of the spare rooms on the third floor into his private office when the expansion project began.

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