Page 31 of Designed for Disaster

I startled from the dream so abruptly that my chest clenched, the ache between my legs throbbing out of control. I squeezed my thighs together.

Holy fuck!

It was a dream. Only a goddamn dream. I rubbed my hands over my face, trying to get control of myself. I wasnotsupposed to be fantasizing about Trent, no matter how sexy he was—and man did dream-Trent really know how to get a girl going. But this coffee-spilling, parents-hating man was my boss. Not someone I was supposed to be almost-kissing in abandoned churches, and certainly not someone I was supposed to be crossing boundaries with.

I couldn’t be drooling over someone who treated his parents like garbage.

Get some damn standards, girl.

I had to admit the chaise had lookedreallygood.

When I hadn’t been able to shake Trent from my thoughts, I’d sat down at my desk at work, headphones in, and let myself get lost in the design—my favorite place to be. If I was going to be plagued by that dream, I might as well get something useful out of it.

And I was clearly not gettingoff, so I saw no reason to let my subconscious designs go to waste. The line could use a good chaise design. But losing myself in design wasn’t working the way it usually did. I bit my lip, tightening my hold on my drawing pencil as I shaded in dark hair. At some point, I’d veered away from simply drawing the chaise and had added an entwined couple, all bare skin and hands everywhere. It was possibly the filthiest thing I’d ever drawn.

I sort of wanted to frame it.

But that would be ridiculous. I picked up my eraser, hesitating as I took in the sketch. I supposed this couple could be any couple. The fact that the woman had my curls and the man had Trent’s dark hair and athletic build didn’t mean anything.

I nodded, trying to convince myself that this artistic rendering was in no way related to the dream. I held the picture up, letting the light spilling in through the window highlight shaded muscles and one very attractive backside. I hadn’t actually seendream-Trent’s ass, but I’d seen him around the office enough in those fitted slacks that I could picture it clearly.Veryclearly. Maybe a little too clearly. Because even in just a pencil sketch, without defined facial features, it was pretty obvious who the subjects were. I could only hope now that I’d gotten the image down on paper, I could finally get it out of my head and return my focus to the real star of the show.

The chaise.

But before I could crumple the paper and discard it, Trent walked through my open door.

“Have we finalized these desk sets yet?” he said, looking up from a file in his hand. “Because I think they’re ready for production. What’s the holdup?”

I slammed the sketch down on my desk. “Um…which desks?” I said, my voice pitched way too high.

“What do you mean ‘which desks’?” he said, scowling at me. “The ones you designed, obviously.”

“Right, yeah.”

He frowned. “What’s that you’ve got there?”

“Nothing!” I shifted my chair to block Trent’s view of the sketch, but I must have moved too quickly, creating a draft, because the paper fluttered out from behind me and landed on the floor.

Trent reached down and snatched it up before I could.

“No—”Too late.My blood ran cold.

“Well, well…” His expression turned smug. “What do we have here?”

“Give it to me,” I demanded, thrusting my hand out. “It’s not finished.”

“I’d say it looks likesomething’sabout to finish,” he teased.

I rose, half out of my chair, trying to grab it. Trent was taller, holding the sketch out of reach. “Just a second,” he said. “I haven’t finished admiring the proportions of this very lovely chaise.”

“Trent,” I said, annoyed. “I’m serious. Give it here.”

He lifted the paper higher, obscuring his face. “I can tell just how serious you are.”

“It’s just a little warm-up drawing,” I muttered, slumping down in my seat. Mortification surged through me.

“I’d say it looks pretty warm already.” He lowered the paper enough to waggle his eyebrows over the top of it. “Anyone I know?”

I clenched my teeth. “No.”

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