Page 20 of All We Need

Sighing, her head drop forward. “Yeah.Iknow.”

“Johanna”—Igently nudge her out of the way—“I’mpretty sureIknow what’s behind that door.Orwho,for that matter.”

She winces, but there’s a quirk to her lips. “I’mnot sure if that makes it better or worse.”

“You know him well?”Iunravel my scarf and unbutton my coat, handing them to her.I’mnot wearing anything special, just a pair of black skinny jeans, heeled boots, and an off-the-shoulder knitted sweater.

“Unfortunately.Why?”

“Tell me something that’ll put me at an advantage.What’shis weakness?”

She chuckles. “Ilike you.Whatdid you say your name was again?”

“I didn’t.”Idon’t mean for it to come out so bluntly.Luckily, she doesn’t appear fazed.

“Touché.Well, he’s always the one making the moves—soIsuggest playing him at his own game.”Shewinks at me. “Abouttime someone did.Usethat big fat ego of his against him.”

Without another word,Itwist the handle and saunter into the small office with a confident stride.

As suspected, my eyes lock with a pair of blue ones, glittering with mischief.

Booth sits behind a large oak desk, hands tucked behind his head, wearing a lopsided grin.

He’s a good-looking man.Verygood looking.Andhe knows it.

Time to change tactics.

“Hello,Alessandra.”Thesubtle purr in his voice should not send goose bumps rippling across my skin, nor have my tummy swooping low likeI’mon a roller coaster.

Pushing the door shut with my butt, our gazes stay locked until we’re trapped inside.Mysmile is sly, not wanting to give him the upper hand.

“I hadn’t expected to see you tonight.Whata surprise.”Mysteps continue untilIstand in front of the desk.

“A pleasant surprise or…”Hisarms drop to the desk and he leans forward.

“That’s yet to be determined.”Imirror his movement and place my palms on the cool, polished wood.Mysweater gapes open, giving him a direct view of my cleavage, andIgive myself one point when his eyes fall to my chest.

We’re playing a reckless game of chess.Hethinks the game is set.Littledoes he know the queen is the most powerful piece of them all.Hecan make whatever moves he wants.Itwon’t be him saying checkmate at the end.

“You have something of mine?”Myvoice is low, and with the tip of my finger,Itrace the sharp edge of the desk asIstalk around it, stopping whenI’mless than a foot away from him.

I mark another tally under my name when his face flashes in surprise.

Today, he’s in his chef uniform.

It’s annoying how well he pulls it off.

The short sleeves of the crisp white chef jacket cling to his biceps, displaying his bronzed skin.Thematerial around his torso and shoulders is baggy, but there’s no hiding his broad chest and tapered waist.Somehow, the black and red bandanna keeping his chestnut brown locks back makes him even more attractive.

He digs into the front pocket of his pants, widening his legs as he does, and holds up my wallet between two fingers.

“This?”Hereaches between us, offering it to me.Insteadof taking it,Ibrush his hand aside and step between his open thighs, forcing him to look up at me.Thisis the closest we’ve been.Fromhere,Isee the muscles in his neck pulling taut as he swallows, the glistening of his lips when his tongue darts out, and the flare of desire across his features.

It’s pointless denyingI’mattracted to him.He’sa distractionIcan’t tune out.

“Your license tells me you’re thirty.”Helicks his lips. “Threeyears my senior.Ihappen to love older women.”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes.Bendingat the waist, my curls drop, surrounding us in a curtain of dark swirls.IfIwere to lean forward an inch, my lips would meet his.Itwould be dangerous for so many reasons, and he’s none the wiser.

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