Page 27 of Obsession

“I asked you a question.”

I lifted my gaze to his again, focusing on his face and the beard. Not helping.

He pressed his palms to the shiny surface of my desk. “I need the reports for the Lewis account. I can’t figure out your system. If you would just follow the same folders as I’ve already?—”

“Mr. Carson, Ihaveused your folders. Please look again.”

“Did you sync up to the network?”

I blinked. “Of course I did.”

I sat down at my terminal and flicked the system awake, typing in my password. And…no, I hadn’t synced them up.Dammit.

“I take that as a ‘no’.”

Evidently, I’d said that aloud. Great.

“I’m very sorry.” I stared at my keyboard. Stupid mistake. Normally, I had it set up to automatically do it for me, but we’d been working so fast that the files were overlapping. I unfroze the network and watched as the little clouds slowly loaded. “Wewere working faster than the network was updating, and the files were conflicting.” I held up my hand. “They’re there now.”

He was still looming over my desk. I forced myself to meet his gaze. It was direct and intense as always. I swallowed against the sawdust and saliva that had disappeared. I tapped the half-empty wrapper. “I was getting a little punchy, so I went to get a snack.”

“Make sure you take a lunch and recharge, Ms. Copeland. It’s going to be a late night.”

“Yes, sir.”

He straightened and tugged his vest down as he turned away. His back seemed even more broad today with the vest to follow the lines of his frame. And that ass?

I wasnotchecking out the enemy’s ass, dammit.

I slumped in my chair. Apparently, I would be working very late tonight.

Awesome.

Chapter Eleven

Lost in the haze of files and spreadsheets, the sun came and went. I didn’t remember how long ago Jack came by to say goodnight. I’d given up on my desk chair.

As ergonomic as it was—and it was lovely—I’d always been one who did my best work huddled up in a corner. Once everyone in the office had taken off, I’d taken the mini laptop with me and spread out with all my files in the reception area.

I had a carpet picnic going with grapes, cheese, and my large bottle of water. If I had another soda today, my heart would explode from my chest. Blake was locked in his office with overseas calls, and I’d had to transcribe them for the notes.

Listening to Blake’s voice for two hours straight had ruined me for the day. I could hear him stalking around the room as he talked. His voice was clipped and professional. No extraneous words—ever.

But his voice was so smooth and deep.

And that was the problem. Far too deep to be listening to via headset. Hence, my carpet picnic. I had to get away from my desk and my constant awareness of him in that office. The fact that he could see me, but I couldn’t see in was driving me batty.I never knew if he was watching me, or if he was completely oblivious.

Not sure why it mattered so much, but it did.

I lifted my bottle and downed more than half of the contents before setting it on the coffee table I was using. Unzipping my boots, I kicked them away, then I pulled my feet in cross-legged under my skirt.

I leaned forward to stretch out my back. Everything hurt, but the tightness and buzzing that lived under my skin was slowly driving me mad. I had maybe an hour left of spreadsheets to work through, and then I could finally go home.

Whathome? I knew I was avoiding things I had to do, which was probably why I didn’t balk at working so late.

I reached out my fingers, pressing my palms flat to the floor as I touched my forehead to the carpet. I groaned out a soft breath as the rubber bands formerly known as my muscles eased. The sound of a clearing throat had me popping up straight.

Mr. Carson stood at the edge of the carpeted area, the stem of his glasses tucked between his teeth. His tie was loosened, but that was the only outward clue to the hours he’d spent in the office.

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