Page 13 of Her Possessive Valentine

“What?” she calls back. It’s quickly followed by the distinct sound of her high heels clacking against the tiled floor. “Where are you going?”

“Somewhere I should be instead of here.”

“But you don’t have time. There’s?—”

“I don’t care.” How the hell are her tiny legs keeping up with my long strides? I’d break into a sprint to get away from her had it not been for the hundreds of staff members who’d think I’d gone crazy.

She follows me all the way to the elevator, where we come to a stop as it ascends to our floor.

“I need to take care of something personal. I’ll be back on time.” The elevator dings, and the grey doors swing open. “Oh, and tell Victor I’ll be taking two weeks off starting Monday. And I’ll need the private jet for them.”

I step inside, and to my great surprise, Jane doesn’t follow.

Now, it’s off to the promised land.

8

HANA

It’s not every day that a well-dressed man bursts through the Hanging Gardens front door. For it to happen twice in one week is such a rare event that it catches my attention immediately every time. But there’s no surprise that the man storming through my lobby is Vance Valentine. Not after the night we shared and the subsequent days or teasing and tormenting through text during the day while laying waste to one another's bodies at night.

“Vance?” I smile at him, doing my best to keep a straight-faced smile. “What brings you here?”

I can think of a few good reasons he abandoned work in the middle of the morning. Making a mess of my office being the top on my list of reasons.

“I’m here for my mom. Isn’t she here?” I’d have believed him, too, if it weren’t for the sheepish smile accompanying his words.

“You just missed her.” I gesture with a single finger that he follow me, and we head for my office. As much fun as we could have in a room full of people, I have to remind myself that theHanging Gardens is still my place of business. And if I want it to stay that way, we should keep our personal affairs locked behind closed doors.

“Ah, well, it’s a good thing you’re here to keep me company instead.” Vance lowers himself and pecks me on the cheek, somehow not missing or fumbling a single step.

I look around to make sure no one’s coming to speak with me before I slip into my office. Vance follows, seemingly oblivious to what I’m doing. Which is my first clue that this isn’t what I think it is, even though I really want it to be.

Then what? Why would he come all the way here if it isn’t for a repeat of last night’s fun?

“Company, huh?” I spin and take a seat on the edge of my desk.

“Yes. See, I’ve got some pretty big plans in the works. Some might even call it a gift or a surprise. So many words to describe it, I don’t even know where to begin.” He crosses the distance between us and throws his arms over my shoulders. “Most of it is to impress this girl. She’s pretty spectacular. Well, everything about her is pretty.”

My cheeks instantly set alight, but when I try to look away, Vance turns my face back to his.

“Not this time, Doll. I want to look into those eyes while I’m complimenting you.”

Clearing my throat and doing everything in my power to will away my blushing, I go back and play along with what he was saying before. “And what’s this thing you’re trying to impress her with?”

“See, that’s where I’m stuck. She’s very busy, but you know me—a man of grand gestures and the like.” He steps closer to me, lowering his face to mine until we’re on the verge of kissing. “And I’m gonna need to convince her to take two weeks off.”

“I’m sure it could be arranged.” I fight my urge to lean in and steal a kiss but fail and do it anyway. Vance doesn’t resist, meeting me head-on with feverish passion, but stops himself before things get carried away.

“Yeah, but the problem is it’s from Monday.”

I raise a brow at him. Two weeks from Monday? What the hell are you scheming, Mr. Valentine?

“Again, I’m sure it can be arranged.” I try for another kiss, but this time, Vance doesn’t indulge. Instead, he smirks wickedly and moves his lips to peck me above a brow.

“Good, because I wasn’t giving you a choice.” He pulls away and offers me a hand to help me up. “Monday morning. Seven sharp. I’ll pick you up at your place.”

“What?” I look at him with mock astonishment. “It was me this whole time? I would’ve never guessed it.”

---