Picture Perfect – Excerpt

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

© 2014 by Elisabeth Grace

Cover design and photo by: Regina Wamba of www.MaeIDesign.com

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.


By Elisabeth Grace

“Elisabeth writes the sexual tension like NO other. While you read, you can feel it all around you. The stolen glances, the half-smirks and the innuendos all seemed tangible. Elisabeth makes you feel as if you are a part of the story, not just a reader.” – Catherine from A Reader Lives A Thousand Lives

Grace writes amazing characters that are easy to connect with, and root for, and this is a couple that I wanted a happily ever after for. It was an emotional roller coaster at times, but so worth it.” – Jenea from Books Live Forever


I stared at his face, knowing with every fiber of my being that I had to leave him.  I didn’t know him anymore. I didn’t recognize the person he’d become. Was it my fault? Had I brought something out in him that had caused Vic to turn into this manipulative, jealous monster?

“Did you hear what I said, Skye?” Vic’s voice was low and full of venom.

The hairs on my arms stood on end. “I already told you I can’t go with you. My dad needs my help that night.”

“These are important clients. I need you by my side at dinner. How is it going to look if you don’t show up after I told them you’d be there?”

Vic was all about proving himself in his father’s investment firm these days. While I admired that, I was so sick of fighting with him—all the freaking time. His demands and jealousy were too much for me to handle. He wasn’t the guy I started dating seven months ago.

I looked around the living room of his small condo, feeling like the walls were closing in. “I can’t do this anymore.” I stood up from the couch and grabbed my purse off the end table. Vic shot to his feet and stood in front of me, his dark eyebrows drawn together, a crease up the center of his forehead. “What is that supposed to mean?” he asked between clenched teeth.

“I’m done arguing with you. This…” I said, motioning between us with my hand, “is over.” Having a dad in politics meant I’d been raised to act like a lady and always keep my cool. That was difficult to do, however, with months of jealous accusations and manipulations from him running through my head.

“This is only over when I say it’s over, Skye, and not before.”

“You’re impossible!” I screamed, whirling around to head for the door.

“You’re not going anywhere!” he yelled from behind me. I’d just reached the door when his hand fastened onto my upper arm. He spun me around and pushed me against the door. “Who the hell is he?”

“What are you talking about?” I tried unsuccessfully to pry his hand off my arm.

“Don’t lie, Skye. It does nothing but make you look like more of a whore than you already are.”

His words were like a bucket of ice water in the face. Adrenaline exploded from my chest and flowed into my limbs. I yanked my arm from his grip, bashing my elbow against the door in the process. But I felt no pain in the moment—only anger.

“You jerk! You’ve been accusing me of sleeping around for months and you know I’m not. You’re being irrational and I’m sick of it! I can’t take it anymore. It’s too much. I’m done! I’m done!”

Rage contorted his face and he grabbed both of my arms and shook me violently. Pain seared where his fingertips dug into my skin and warm liquid trickled down the back of my neck where my head hit the back of the door.

I was stunned. And scared. I’d never had a man lay his hands on me in anger before. I didn’t know what to do. My face must have displayed my shock because suddenly his hands dropped to his sides.

“Skye…I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“I don’t ever want to see you again. Don’t call me. Don’t text me. Ever.” I turned, opened the door, and ran down the hall to the elevator with tears streaming down my face. He didn’t follow me. Thank God. I don’t know what I would have done.

When I reached my car in the parking lot, I cried more tears. Tears because I didn’t know where things had gone wrong. Tears because I’d let things get so bad between us that it’d landed us here. I felt somehow at fault for the entire drama that had unfolded, even though deep inside I knew I’d done nothing wrong. I grabbed some tissues from my console and pressed them to the cut at the back of my head. It was only a small cut by the feel of it, but you wouldn’t know by the amount of bright red liquid on the tissues.

I started the car and began to make my way back home. The impulse to call my best friend, Ellie, was immense, but I couldn’t tell her…or anyone else, for that matter. It was too embarrassing. Plus, Ellie had never been a fan of Vic, and I couldn’t handle an ‘I told you so’ right now. I was ashamed that she’d been able to see something in him that I hadn’t.

When I pulled into the driveway of my parents’ formidable home, I heard my phone alert me to a text message. I grabbed the cell from my purse and saw that it was from Vic. Not caring what he had to say, I deleted the text without looking at it and headed into the house for what was sure to be a long, sleepless night.



Katie tossed some articles of clothing beside where I lay on my parents’ couch. “Get your ass up.”

I sat up and held out the clothes to inspect them. It looked like a pair of pleather capris and some kind of halter top. “What is this?” I asked.

“This is what you’re wearing out tonight.”

“I’m not going out tonight.”

“Oh yes, you most certainly are. You’ve been sulking around and feeling sorry for yourself for too long. It’s been a month, Skye. It’s time to get back in the game. Besides, you have a job offer and a new apartment to celebrate.”

A month of first dealing with and now avoiding Vic’s incessant phone calls. No thank you. “I don’t want in the game.”

“It doesn’t matter whether you do or don’t. You need a night of drowning your sorrows, complete with some male attention to get you out of this slump. That asshat you got rid of isn’t worth moping around for. Now get up. Let’s go.”

She grabbed my wrist and tried pulling me up off the couch but I resisted. “I don’t want to go out. I just want to stay in.”

Katie let go of my hand and crossed her arms over her chest, which wasn’t an easy feat because Katie was well-endowed in that department. When she just stared at me and began tapping her foot, I knew there was no use arguing with her.

Begrudgingly, I got up off the couch and headed to my room to get ready for a night of fun. Right.

A few hours later I was in a crush of people on the dance floor at Fahrenheit on Granby Street in downtown Norfolk, wearing faux-leather capris and a white halter top that bared a strip of my belly. My outfit didn’t match my mood but Katie had insisted, and one thing I knew about Katie was that she didn’t back down. She’d been steadily feeding me drinks all night so I was grinding to the beat of the pulsing music, feeling happier and sexier than I had in weeks.

I leaned in to Katie who was dancing across from me and shouted over the music. “Thanks for forcing me out tonight. You were right…I needed this.”

“Told you! You just needed to get out and have some fun.”

“Yeah, I suppose so.”

Katie gripped both my shoulders. “It’s not all bad. You move into your apartment next week, you’re starting a new job, and you’re finally free of that dickhead.”

I gave her a small smile. She was right—about all of it. I also realized that I hadn’t been mourning the loss of Vic, so much as the loss of what I thought we had. In no way was I missing his endless interrogations or jealous rages. Not one bit.

Katie removed her hands and went back to dancing. A prickling sensation moved up my spine and I suddenly had the sensation of being watched. When I spotted who was looking at me, I sucked in a breath. Leaning against the bar with a beer dangling in one hand was a lean muscled guy with deep brown eyes. He wore a tailored black shirt that hugged his biceps, and his brown hair was kept short at the sides and longer on the top. He had a grin on his face as he looked at me, but it belied the intensity in his eyes.

I looked away quickly when I felt a flush heat my skin. I wasn’t embarrassed; the alcohol had long ago taken away my inhibitions, but the way he looked at me had me more than a little turned on. Even though we hadn’t spoken a word, I could tell from his expression that he was undressing me with his eyes and thinking of all the ways he could take me. I’d by lying if I said I didn’t like the feeling.

I knocked back the rest of my drink and tossed the plastic cup on the ground, something a sober me never would have done. With my hands raised in the air, I started grinding my hips to the beat. The music and the crowd pulsed around me until I felt so in tune with it I just closed my eyes and escaped. I was living in the moment, young and free. It’d been too long since I’d felt this way.

I would give this guy a show he’d never forget. I ran my hands up and down my body and closed my eyes, picturing myself and the stranger alone, imagining it was his hands exploring me. When the DJ changed up the set, I opened my eyes to see Katie flirting with some guy across from me and my mystery man gone. I felt more disappointed than I should have. I guess he wasn’t enjoying the show. I didn’t want to interrupt Katie so I motioned to her that I was going to get another drink and headed to the bar.

While I stood there trying to get the bartender’s attention, a very drunk, very obnoxious guy came up next to me. He reeked of beer and swayed on his feet beside me. I tried to ignore him but that proved impossible.

“Hey, sweet tits. What do you say we get out of here?”

Seriously? Normally my training to never cause a scene in public would have kicked in, but the alcohol must have stolen that, too. “Does that approach ever actually work?” I asked him.

“Ah, come on. Give a guy a break. You can’t tell me you’re not trying to attract an audience dressed like that. I’m just sayin’…job well done.” I rolled my eyes and turned to face the bar again. “You don’t have to be a bitch about it.”

I ignored his jab but a minute later when we still hadn’t been served, motor mouth spoke back up. “Hows about we do a shot together and then see if yah wanna get a piece of thiiss,” he slurred.

I looked back to him again. “Never. Going. To. Happen.”

“You fucking—”

“I believe the lady said she wasn’t interested, buddy. Why don’t you move on your way?” The voice had come from behind me, and without looking I knew it was my mystery man. The voice was low, smooth, authoritative, and made my nipples pebble—not a good thing when you had a shirt on that didn’t allow you to wear a bra.

I turned to get a close-up look at the guy who could elicit such a reaction in me with just a few words. He was even better looking than my rum-filled brain had registered from across the bar. I opened my mouth to speak but stopped short when I felt something warm slither down the front of my chest and on to my exposed belly. Mystery man’s face contorted in horror and he snapped his head in the direction of my unwanted admirer. I looked over in time to see the drunk guy wiping something off his chin with the back of his sleeve.

That was when the stench of vomit hit me. Oh my fucking God, the guy had just puked on me! My own gag reflex kicked in and I pushed past the two guys to run for the bathroom. I managed to keep the contents of my own stomach down and burst through the door. I raced over to the sink, kicking my shoes off when I got there. There were a couple of girls in the bathroom, but when they saw the reason for my panic, they fled. I couldn’t blame them.

As I pushed my bottoms off, I could have kissed Katie for giving me pleather pants to wear. None of the vomit had seeped through so I’d easily be able to rinse them clean. My shirt was a different story. I untied the strings around my neck and shimmied it down my body, uncaring that I stood in a public bathroom with just a pair of panties on. Who gave a shit when you were covered in a stranger’s vomit? Priorities, people.

I ran the water as hot as I could get it and shoved my clothes under the tap. I wet some paper towels to wipe the remnants off my chest and belly, soaped myself up, and then thoroughly rinsed. When I was satisfied there was no more vomit on either me or my outfit, I pulled the wet pants back up my legs—not an easy feat, let me tell you. I don’t care what size you are, it’s like trying to get ten pounds of sausage in a five-pound sack. I wrung out my shirt and then pulled it up to put it back in place. I may have given Katie props for picking the impenetrable pleather pants, but now I was cursing her for the white shirt. My breasts and my puckered nipples were clearly visible. It was definitely time to bail. I’d have to cross my arms over my chest while I went in search of Katie.

I opened the door and peeked out into the hallway. Not seeing anyone, I stepped out, whirling when I heard a voice behind me. “You okay?” Mystery man stepped forward from the end of the darkened hallway. I quickly crossed my hands over my chest and stepped out of the light and into the darkness with him. “When you didn’t come right back out, I wanted to make sure you were okay. I told the bouncer what happened. That guy’s already eating concrete.” He walked toward me, stopping only inches away.

“You may want to back up. I’ve rinsed myself off head to toe, but I can’t guarantee that I don’t still smell like puke.”

“I’ll take my chances,” he said. He gently took each of my wrists and unfolded them from my chest, leaving my arms hanging at my sides. His eyes widened and his nostrils flared as he took in the see-through shirt clinging to me. He stood at least a head taller than me and the scent of his expensive cologne further lulled me under his spell.

“What are you doing?” I almost whispered.

“Enjoying the view.” He raised a hand and lightly thumbed one of my nipples through the thin fabric. As his thumb flicked back and forth, I struggled not to let out a moan. Then he slowly brought his hand up across my collarbone and slid it underneath my hair to cup the back of my neck. Our eyes caught for moment before he crushed his lips to mine.

I lost myself then. I wasn’t thinking about the fact that I didn’t know his name, that ten minutes earlier I’d been covered in vomit, or the fact that I probably looked like a drowned rat. His hands roamed my back, cupping my ass and squeezing tight. I could feel him hard against my belly and I rubbed myself wantonly against him. It fueled my fire even more and I moved my hand in between us and gripped his erection, rubbing up and down.

In the midst of our lust-induced make-out session someone walked out of the men’s bathroom door. “Oh, um…sorry.” Whoever it was left but I pulled away. I needed to think and I couldn’t do that with his hands all over my body. I could barely do it with just his eyes on me.

What the hell was I doing? “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

His hand settled on my wrist as I moved to leave. “No, wait.”

“This isn’t me. I don’t do this kind of thing.”

He adjusted himself and I swore I wouldn’t look down, but it was like there was a tractor beam and it was futile to resist. Damn. Judging from that bulge, I was missing out. “Don’t run off. You’re not seriously going to leave me like this, are you?” He motioned in the direction of his junk.

“I didn’t mean to lead you on…I just…” I didn’t know what else to say. I know I probably seemed like the biggest tease in the world. Instead of trying to come up with an excuse, I ran down the hallway with my hands over my chest. I’d rather risk embarrassment than be confined in a small space with that man for another second.

I found Katie on the periphery of the dance floor—thank God—and one look at me told her we had to be going. I ended up telling her what happened with the vomit but left out the part about the hottie. If she knew I’d never hear the end of it, and I didn’t want any reminders of this night. As far as I was concerned, it was a one-off…I’d had a little too much to drink and acted completely out of character. It would not happen again.


I waited until my blue balls had subsided a bit before I made my way back down the hall and into the crush of people. No sense alerting everyone to the very agitated state that the hot blonde had left me in. And somehow I had a feeling that walking funny around a rock hard erection would have done just that.

I found an empty spot at the bar and claimed my piece of real estate. Thankfully, the female bartender who had been eye-fucking and flirting with me all night, headed right over.

“Hey, handsome. What can I get ya?” The way she leaned on the bar in front of me and pressed her tits together didn’t escape my notice. On any other Saturday night, I’d be all over lining her up to accompany me home, but it just pissed me off tonight. Why? Because those weren’t the set of tits I was interested in at the moment.

“Shot of whiskey.” I didn’t want to encourage her so I didn’t turn on the usual charm.

“Make it two.”

“Comin’ right up, boys.” She flashed me a sultry smile and then turned and sashayed her way to the other side of the bar to grab our drinks.

I turned to see that my friend Scottie had squeezed in beside me. His sandy brown hair was a little lopsided and his shirt was askew, sure signs that he’d either been on the dance floor or all up on some chick. Something I should be doing right now, but for some reason, I couldn’t get that damn blonde out of my head.

“How’s your night going?” I asked him.

“Oh man. You should see this chick I’ve been grinding with on the dance floor. Killer body.”

“So, why aren’t you out there then?” Even I could hear the irritation in my voice over the loud music.

“What’s your problem?”

“Don’t have one.”

The bartender returned with our shots and I threw a bill down on the bar, not paying her any attention. I grabbed the shot glass and poured the liquid down my throat, liking the burning feeling the trail of it left behind. I slammed the glass down on the bar and Scottie did the same.

“Saw you talking to that chick. Nice piece of ass. How’d that go?”

“It didn’t.”

Scottie smacked me on the back a couple of times and started laughing. “Holy shit! Did the ‘Man of Steele’ finally get shot down?” He continued laughing until I nudged him in the ribs with my elbow. “Fuck, man. That hurt!” Okay, maybe it was more than a nudge.

“Why don’t you go back out onto the dance floor and see if—for once in your life—you can close the deal.”

“Damn. She really got your panties in a bunch, didn’t she?” Without waiting for an answer, he pushed off the bar and disappeared into the mass of people.

What pissed me off the most was that he was right. Why was I so bothered, besides the fact that she’d left me in this state? What was it about her that made her different?

Whatever. I was sure I’d forget all about her by the time I got up tomorrow. I just wasn’t used to being shot down. Nobody likes losing. That’s all this was.

Throughout the remainder of the night, I ran this mantra through my head, willing myself to believe it and it seemed to have worked. That is, until I woke the next morning with my head throbbing, and the first image that came to mind was a set of soul-piercing blue eyes.



I sat at my desk, rearranging everything for probably the tenth time that morning. Mr. Steele would be in any minute and I was nervous to meet my new boss. I wanted everything to be perfect.

I’d finally gotten an offer for a good job and had started a few weeks ago as the personal assistant to Landon Steele, the owner of an up-and-coming PR firm. Mr. Steele had grown his company and its stellar reputation quickly, especially for someone only a few years older than me, and had been named one of Virginia’s “entrepreneurs to watch” a couple of years back.

Of course, I only knew what I had heard about him at this point because Mr. Steele had been away on business my first week on the job and then on vacation the second. Regardless, I’d already grown comfortable in the office and with my co-workers. There weren’t many of us. Between the account executives, the media relations manager, the event coordinator, and the various administrative personnel, there were fifteen in total.

The office as a whole had a young, contemporary vibe, complete with sleek furniture for clients in the reception area, dark wood desks, and private offices for the account executives. Each office was enclosed in glass so you could see in them, but I’d learned within my first few days that there were switches that did this cool James Bond thing to make the glass opaque for privacy.

The phone on my desk rang, jarring me from my thoughts. I lifted the receiver and in my most professional voice said, “Mr. Steele’s office, this is Skye speaking. How may I help you?”

“Skye, this is Mr. Steele.”

“Hello, Mr. Steele. How are you this morning?”

“Listen, I have an appointment with a client in an hour, but I have a problem I have to deal with first. If I’m late, entertain him until I get there.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Oh, and welcome aboard.”

“Thank you, Mr. Steele.” I was talking to myself because he’d already hung up. As I put the phone down, Marci walked up to my desk. She’d been the one to hire me and was probably in her mid-forties with short red hair and a penchant for bright colors.

“Morning, Skye. Is Mr. Steele in yet?” she asked.

“That was him on the phone. Apparently, he’s running late and won’t be in for a bit. He asked me to entertain his client if he arrived first.”

“Late? That doesn’t sound like him at all. I wonder what came up.”

“He didn’t say… Marci, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

Marci had shown me the ropes and I felt comfortable asking her what I wanted to know. “Is he always so gruff?”

“He was gruff?”

“A little. Maybe he was just in a hurry or something.”

“Hmm…that’s not how I would describe him. He’s direct, that’s for sure, and you certainly know what he expects of you,” she said, smirking. “We have a little joke around the office about how his last name is the best descriptor of him.”

“How so?”

“Because the man has nerves of steel. Wait until you see him going in to pitch for a client. No fear. No nerves. Solid steel, I tell you.”

“I guess that’s how he’s managed to do so well for himself.”

“Definitely. Skye, I know you’re nervous but you really don’t need to be. You’ve done great since you started and Mr. Steele is a wonderful man to work for. You’ll be fine.”

“Thanks, Marci. I needed that.” She came around the desk and gave me a hug. I really liked her. She was like the mother hen of the office and our conversation had put me at ease.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it. Could you let him know I need to talk to him after his meeting?”

“Sure thing.”

A while later, the receptionist at the front desk let me know the client had arrived. Douglas Merrick was the owner of a chain of restaurants throughout the state. Because he was already a client, the meeting today was to review the previous year and discuss the PR strategy moving forward.

When I arrived in the reception area, I saw he was a man of about sixty with a round belly and grey hair—what little was left. I introduced myself and shook his hand. If there was one area I had experience, it was schmoozing. You didn’t grow up with a politician for a dad and not learn that fine art.

“Pleasure to meet you, Skye.”

“The pleasure is all mine. Mr. Steele was detained but will join us shortly. Can I offer you a beverage while you wait?”

“I’m all right. I just finished my morning coffee.” He patted his oversized belly and smiled.

“Well, then why don’t you follow me and I’ll show you to Mr. Steele’s office. We can wait for him there.”


When I had Mr. Merrick situated comfortably, I figured the best way to pass the time would be to stick around and talk to him. I’d done my research. I knew Merrick had built his empire from the ground up, starting forty years ago.

“You must be very proud of the business you’ve been able to build since that first one on Main Street.”

He chuckled. “How do you know about that? I’d bet my last dollar you weren’t even born then.”

“I’ve made it a point to know all of our clients and their businesses.”

“It’s been a lot of hard work, but it’s been worth it. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

We continued to chat for a while before I heard someone outside the office call out a ‘good morning’ to Mr. Steele. I thought I’d done a good job keeping Mr. Merrick occupied, but I was relieved he was here to take over. I couldn’t wait to meet him and see what he thought of the job I’d done here today.


My first day back in the office was not going according to plan. Getting stuck in the pouring rain with car troubles was certainly not on the agenda for day. I’d found someone to give me a boost easily enough, but I’d been soaked through and had to go back to my condo to change, making me late for my meeting.

I didn’t do late. Or at least I hadn’t before today.

I took the elevator up to the top floor of the office tower where Steele & Associates was located and entered through the reception area. I briefly acknowledged my employees as I made my way to my office. Hopefully, the new girl they’d hired in my absence had been able to handle the first assignment I’d given her. As I drew closer, I heard laughter coming from my office. Well, it sounded like everyone was enjoying themselves.

I stepped through the doorway and stopped short. Standing in front of me in a clinging V-neck pink dress was the girl I’d made out with at Fahrenheit. Un-fucking-believable.

I tried not to appreciate her long blond hair, delicate features, or her crystal blue eyes, but they were nearly impossible not to notice—at least if you were male, heterosexual, and had a pulse.

Both occupants of my office looked over at me. The charming smile that had lit her face moments earlier was wiped clean. Her eyes widened in panic as realization dawned. Well, at least she remembered me. It would have been a massive blow to my ego if she hadn’t.

“Mr. Steele.” She didn’t say it like it was a question, even though this was our first official meeting.

I schooled my expression and nodded in her direction. Then, without missing a beat, I smiled at Merrick and moved closer to shake his hand.

“Mr. Merrick. How have you been?”

He stood to accept my greeting with a large grin. “Things are well, thank you. I was just getting to know your new assistant here. I think you made a fine choice in acquiring this one, Landon.”

I quickly glanced her way to see that she was still looking at me like I had two heads, her mouth agape. “We aim to please,” I said and patted him on the back. As I made my way to my chair, I said, “Skye, why don’t you hit the privacy switch and close the door behind you.”

“Yes, sir.” Like a good assistant, she did as I instructed. Like a good boss, I tried not to let my gaze linger too long on the curve of her ass in that dress she was wearing. No such luck.

The meeting went as expected and I secured Merrick’s business for another year. The man loved to talk and I was happy to listen, but I couldn’t keep my thoughts from drifting back to Skye. What were the chances that she’d ended up being the one working for me? Karma was definitely a bitch with a fucked-up sense of humor.

One thing was for sure, I needed to get my attraction to her in check. She may be blond, innocent-looking, and stacked, but she was my assistant. I never dipped my pen in the company ink.

Mr. Merrick and I passed by her desk as I escorted him to the elevators. She must have made an impression on him because he stopped to say his goodbyes before we continued toward the reception area. Hell, she’d made an impression on me when we’d first met, but his reaction didn’t include sporting a rock-hard erection.

I was making my way back through the office when Marci stopped me.

“Mr. Steele, have you had a chance to meet your new assistant yet?”


“Good. I wanted to let you know she’s done exceptionally well getting up to speed on everything while you were away. I think she’s going to do nicely.”

“That remains to be seen. Let’s take it one day at a time now that I’m back.”

“Of course, sir.”

I’d been harsher than I normally was with Marci. The irritation I felt from the night in the bar was coming back, and I couldn’t seem to help it. Marci had been with me from the start though and didn’t deserve such treatment.

I placed my hand on her elbow. “Marci, thanks for training Skye while I was away. I’m sure you’ve done all you can to make sure she’s prepared to do her job.”

She smiled and nodded, seemingly satisfied, and returned to her desk.

I made my way back toward my office and found Skye at her desk. We obviously had to discuss our prior meeting since it was the proverbial elephant in the room—only this elephant was bright pink and waving a neon flashing sign that said “AWKWARD.” Thankfully, Skye saved me the trouble of having to figure out how to bring it up.

She stood from her chair as she saw me approach. “Mr. Steele, I have to say that I’m sorry about what happened the night we met. It’s not like me to do something like that and I panicked, so I left you there and didn’t come back to explain. I feel terrible.” Having her apologize profusely for her dismissal of me only irked me even more.

“Are you finished?”

She looked momentarily regretful, then squared her shoulders and put a serene smile on her face. She didn’t speak but nodded.

“Obviously, neither one of us had any idea who the other one was that night. Let’s move past it and be the professionals I’m sure we both are.”

“I’d like that,” she said, looking relieved.

Did she really think it would be that easy? Probably. She wasn’t the one that was going to have to stare at her tits every day knowing what the weight of them felt like in my hands.

“Great. I need to respond to my e-mails now, but after lunch I’d like you to bring me up to speed on what I missed while I was on vacation.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll make sure I have everything together.”

“You do that.” I walked into my office, closing the door and leaving the privacy film in place.

I didn’t know what it was about this girl, but she got under my skin as easily as a scalpel would. What I did know was that I was overcompensating by being brusque with her, when everything in me was screaming to embrace her so I could feel her soft curves against my body again. Damn it. That train of thought led to me having to adjust myself.

I just didn’t understand. It wasn’t like I had problems getting women in my bed—I had my share of willing bed partners. And the odd time a woman wasn’t interested? I just moved on and never gave her another thought. What was it about this one particular girl that had my shit in such a knot?

Whatever it was, she wasn’t getting any leeway or perks from me at the office. I needed to see what Skye was made of—besides a rockin’ body and kissable lips.