Page 4 of Her Possessive Valentine

His eyes widen behind the rim of the small cup pressed against his lip. He’d speak, I’m sure, if it weren’t for the threat of hot tea spilling out of his mouth.

“What’s this about love?” Veronica asks, catching both of us off guard.

“The tea,” Vance nearly yells out behind the cup. “Delicious. Can’t get enough of it.”

“Told you.” Veronica remains standing, and my heart almost instantly shatters, realizing what it means. “Now, finish up. I don’t want you to be late for your meeting.”

“But you said. . .” Vance looks up at her, then down at me, and shakes his head in bewilderment. “Hana, it’s been a pleasure.”

He stands, and my eyes instantly travel down, but there’s no showing of what I saw a moment ago. Not that he can hide his cock even when soft. It’s like a third leg begging desperately to be set free from the confines of his pants.

“And you.” I stand and once more offer my hand to him. This time, he doesn’t shake; instead, he brings my knuckles to his lips in that old-timey way that makes my tummy float.

“I’ll see you in two weeks,” Veronica says, and the pair start walking off.

But when they reach the middle of the lobby, Vance says something to his mother before turning around and doing his best to keep from breaking into a sprint.

“Nearly forgot something important,” he says when he gets back to me.

“And what’s that?” I can almost feel his hands wrap around my lower body and pull me into a kiss.

Instead, he grabs his wallet and pulls out a business card. “Oh, you know, an offer you can’t refuse.”

“Your number?” I raise a brow, eyeing his card anxiously. He hasn’t even walked away yet, and I’m already toying with the idea of dialing it immediately.

“A spa day all of your own.” His lips curl into a naughty grin. “If you ever want someone to give you a rub down … I mean massage, give me a call.”

With a wink, he’s gone again.

And I’m left with the overwhelming urge to follow through on my impulse to dial his number right freaking now.

3

VANCE

“Mr. Valentine, there’s someone on line one for you,” my secretary, Jane, says and follows me into my office. She’s carrying a stack of folders that need my attention.

Even more piled onto an already packed day, and I’m sure, like the rest, they’re all urgent.

“Isn’t there always?” I grumble, heading for my desk.

“You’re also late for your meeting with?—”

“I know. My mom kept me longer than expected. Which room are they in?” I don’t mean to be rude, but surely telling me I’m late is time better spent elsewhere.

“Conference room four. Will the delay have a knock-on effect on your meeting with Mr. Anders and company?” Jane places the stack of folders on my desk next to another smaller pile.

Christ, sooner or later, I’m going to be drowning in papers.

“No, it shouldn’t. This one shouldn’t take long.” I’ve set aside an hour, so it won’t be more than forty-five minutes. Trying to stay ahead of the current, I buy myself enough time between meetings wherever I can.

But it shouldn’t be much longer now for things to finally calm down. With the La Superiorite deal coming to a close, my attention won’t be divided between my normal day-to-day and the biggest contract this company has seen in years. All I need to do is take it one step at a time, and we’ll be through with it in no time.

“What abou?—”

“Jane, please. I have someone on the phone and people waiting. I’ll give you a better report of my times once I finish in conference room four. Is that acceptable?” I don’t sit when I lift the phone’s receiver to my ear. Comfort is a luxury I can’t afford, and if I allow myself even a moment, I might not want to stand again.

“Yes, Mr. Valentine.” Jane sinks her eyes to the floor and shuffles out of my office. I feel bad, for the seven seconds I’m allowed to have any feeling that isn’trush.

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