Page 10 of Save Me the Trouble
She was intriguing. More so than the other curators they’d sent. More so than anyone I’d met in a long, long time.
The gall of the woman who didn’t cave at the slightest exertion of pressure because she was so desperate for my approval. Who’d dared to ask me about what was in my private office after I’d stuck her in there without thinking. And who so easily sparred with my barbs, not even blinking, let alone falling for the sarcastic, stereotypical answers I gave her.
She was intoxicating.
Her bright outfit and devil-may-care attitude ensnared me. For a long time, I wasn’t sure there was anything other than business running through my blood, but after only a few minutesin her presence, my veins pumped with something much hotter. Much hungrier.
It chewed away at me, needing to know more—wanting more—until the day ended and I could finally move into my study and begin to look into the woman whose blue eyes I couldn’t get off my mind. And whose sharp tongue I couldn’t get out of my dreams, fantasizing about the damage it would do to my cock.
I shifted my stance wider and quickly adjusted myself just before the elevator doors opened.
Grace might intrigue me, but there was no way it would go beyond a fantasy. The only truthful answer I’d given her—about how losing everything had shaped me—was truer than she’d ever know. Like everyone else, she knew the story about the loss of my fortune, respect, and reputation, but few knew the other things it had cost me. And while I might’ve recovered many things since that day, my ability to trust a woman with my heart wasn’t one of them.
No matter what my grandmother hoped.
I stepped out of the elevator, the polished floors reflecting the early morning sunlight and the emptiness of the office. I was the last to leave and the first to arrive. Always had been. Always would be. Even now, a decade after almost completely bankrupting this business, I still felt I owed it more than I could ever repay. So, I worked harder—longer than anyone else.
“Perfect.”
I stopped at the word.Herword.
Grace was already here.
My feet launched me forward, eating up the rest of the hallway to my office, where she’d left the door ajar.
I stopped at the threshold, the sight of her wreaking havoc on my domain sent an unexpected jolt through me.
Grace sat amid a sea of equipment, her camera meticulously positioned in front of the dark leather couch I never sat on; she’ddragged it over by the windows so the Seattle skyline and the Space Needle would be visible in the background.Smart.
Her blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders, shimmering in the early morning light as she rearranged some books that she’d taken from my bookcase and placed on an end table next to the couch.
Today, she had on a bright red top and a blue polka dot skirt. All color in my black and white corner. Not unlike my Chihuly chandeliers.
“You’re early.” I fought to keep my tone casual rather than clipped. It was better she didn’t know how easily she got under my skin…and how hotly she made it burn.
Grace stilled for a split second and then looked over her shoulder at me, a hint of a smile teasing her lips. “I like to be prepared.”
She turned back to her task, and I slid my hands into my pockets as I approached. “How did you get in here?”
She chuckled softly and tipped her head toward my desk, a box sitting on the corner. The unmistakable black-and-blue logo of Top Pot Doughnuts stared at me, and then I noticed the hint of sugar in the air.
“Donny was so grateful for the doughnuts. There’s extra if you want one.”
What I wanted was to have a small chat with the security guard who’d been swayed by sugar and her smile to swipe his keycard at the elevator to give her access to this floor.
“I’m fine, thanks.”
She shrugged and then stood, admiring her handiwork. Meanwhile, all I could do was admire her. The fit of her top as it clung to her chest. The flare of her skirt over her ass.
“I’m ready. Are you?” She lifted her chin ever so slightly as she asked, as though daring me tonotbe prepared.
“Of course,” I said and strode to the other side of my desk, depositing my briefcase on the chair, and then returning to the couch. “Where do you want me?”
Her lips parted, and her cheeks flushed slightly.Good.For all I admired her professionalism this morning, I still wanted to know there was a spark underneath it. That fire from yesterday I ached for to keep me warm.
“This corner.” She motioned for me to sit and realized too late she was in my way. She comically tried to sidestep around me, only to start to backpedal and trip over her own feet.
She let out a yelp just as I caught her arms and steadied her right up against me. Right where she’d tried to avoid being in the first place.
