Even if I approach him later tonight, I’ll get the same ass response she got. No amount of buttering could sway him.

There must be a way. I refuse to give up. If he can’t give us a chance to even display our ideas before rejecting us, then I have no other option but to be creative.

After all, creativity is my specialty.

An insane idea takes form in my head.

And before I know it, I am stalking in Hannah’s direction. I stop her retreat with a hand on her lower back before snaking it around her waist. I pull her to my side.

“There you are. I was looking for you, baby.”

Her head snaps up and I am momentarily transfixed by her gray eyes.

My focus immediately latches on her heart-shaped lips which part in surprise.

She had them painted in blood-red lipstick.

It’s perfect. Too fucking perfect that I want to ruin her lipstick by shoving my dick between those fuckable lips.

Whoa, man. What the fuck?

My dick likes the image in my brain and there goes the fucker. Getting hard at the most inappropriate time. Because apparently, my dick doesn’t fucking care that my job is on the line.

She is my enemy for fuck’s sake.

I clear my throat.

Body, please don’t fuck this up. Sincerely, brain.

She is still stunned by seeing me judging by her stillness.

I take advantage of her speechlessness and slip in a character my brain conjured.

By hook or by crook. I am not letting this client slip away from my fingers.

This is the last shot I have. I have to try it. Even if it means using Hannah for my plan.

I frown deeply. “Why are you so flushed? What happened? Is everything all right?”

“Huh?”

“I just left you for two minutes, baby. I had to talk to one of our business associates.” I clutch her chin with my thumb and forefinger before leaning down. “Are you mad at me?” I whisper against her lips.

Her eyes widen.

I am both grateful and quite shocked that she hasn’t pushed me off her. I am invading her personal space after all.

Victor clears his throat. I release her chin, trying not to focus on how fucking soft her skin felt against my calloused fingers.

“Oh, my apologies. I didn’t mean to be rude by avoiding your presence. But everything else seems to blur around me when I look at Hannah.”

She looks more appalled by the cheesiness of my words than surprised right now.

A look of understanding passes over Victor’s features. “I know exactly what you mean, Mister…?”

I extend a hand. “Raleigh Jackson,” He takes it and gives it a firm shake.

“Victor Smith.” He expects me to elaborate more.