Page 96 of Seal My Fate

I can’t believe it. So much for turning everything around.

Tears well in my eyes. Everything was riding on getting this job today.

Everything.

“I apologize.”

A voice beside me breaks through my misery. “That was my fault.

“I apologize. Let me cover your dry cleaning.”

I look up and find my day has just turned from ‘bad’ to ‘humiliating’ because, of course, it’s the handsome man from behind me in line. But I’m freaking out too much to care. This is an emergency, and I’m about to lose it: my pride, my self-control, and my future job.

“No… You don’t get it,” I nearly sob, looking around helplessly. “I have a big interview. I can’t show up looking like this!”

The man looks around, and then briskly begins to hustle me to the lobby of the building next door. I’m all out of options, so I follow blindly behind him, but unless he’s taking me to an Ann Taylor outlet, I’m all out of luck.

It’s not a store, but the ladies’ restroom. He guides me inside, locks the door behind us, and then orders:

“Take off your clothes.”

“Umm, what… ?” I stammer, flustered. My cheeks burn hotter as he strips off his suit jacket, unknots his tie, and he starts unbuttoning his shirt.

I gape. This cannotbe happening.

Am I dreaming? Did someone spike that mocha with some hallucinogenics? Because my walking fantasy is slowly undressing in front of me, totally unconcerned.

He shrugs off the shirt, revealing a set of mesmerizingly solid muscles, gloriously tight and cut. He has the lean physique of an athlete who worked hard for it, too hard to keep it covered with a suit. Broad shoulders taper to a narrow waist, thick biceps and just a smattering of a treasure trove right at his belt buckle. It’s a feast for the eyes. I can’t look away, even if I wanted to.

I don’t want to. That’s a buffet I could happily gaze at for hours.Days, even.

“You can do something with this, right?”

Oh, yes. I can. Many things.

It takes me a moment to realize he’s holding his shirt out. It’s only when one corner of his lip curls up in a knowing smile that I finally get it. He’s offering me a replacement for my ruined blouse

I take it from him. “But what about you?”

He shrugs. Like handing over fine Italian linen is no big deal. And to him, it probably isn’t. “I’ll manage. You clearly have someplace important to be.”

For a moment, I can’t recall where. My blood pulses.

Then it hits me. If I don’t get a move on, I’m going to be terribly late for my job interview. And yet, I can’t seem to convince my eyes to get with the picture. All they want to do is drink him in.

And the rest of my body… Well, it wants to do a whole lot more.

I feel a shiver of sexual awareness, my nipples tightening. The man’s smirk grows wider, and I realize, he can see the stiff peaks, right through my wet shirt.

My cheeks burn hotter. “Turn around,” I snap, embarrassed.

He does it, so I quickly yank the ruined blouse over my head and start buttoning his shirt up. But I’m just tucking it into my skirt when I catch sight of him in the mirror, his eyes on my reflection.

I gasp. He was watching me undress the whole time!

“So much for chivalry,” I say pointedly, trying to hide my embarrassment.

And giving thanks that I wore a good bra.

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