His hands casually threaded through his hair as he talked. She had to blink to keep from being mesmerized. “Upper peninsula. Temporary. My real estate agent’s working overtime though. The prices out here are peanuts compared to San Francisco. Feel like a kid in the candy store except all the candy is four-thousand-square-foot colonials with a marsh view.”
She snorted. “So relatable. So humble.”
He relaxed his arm over the backrest of the chair, his thighs outstretched. He smiled unabashedly. “I know.”
As if that smile weren’t enough, her eyes trailed to the wide, empty wedge of space between his legs. She shook her head snapping back her focus but it was too late. He’d caught her.
“We don’t have to get donuts, you know. We could finish other more pressing business.” His voice was soft.
She met his gaze, calm but intense.
From her periphery, a warning flash of light from her tablet reminded her of the hours and hours of work ahead for the two of them. Together. As a team. A work team.
Already the sexual chemistry sparked unbearably, and it was only escalating with their interactions. Interactions like these. She couldn’t let it spiral out of control. Hell, she’d been ready to fuck him in a bathroom that very morning. Unwise when so much was on the line. What had she been thinking?
She was dick-drunk.
She scratched at the wispy hair tickling her forehead. He drove her to distraction. She’d given in too many times already. She would put an end to it.
A small smile played upon her lips as she stood, winding around her desk towards him. She leaned over, close to his ear. “What kind of business could you possibly be referring to?”
Her hand wandered to a button on his shirt, index finger dangling on its edge. She smirked inwardly at the sight of his right hand clenching the armrest of the chair.
“Seems that you’re already demonstrably aware.” His voice was strained.
She lifted her knee, resting it between the gap of his legs, bringing her other hand to his shirt button. From the corner of her eye, his Adam’s apple worked in his throat.
Then with slow attention to each one, she buttoned him up all the way to the juncture at the top of his neck, patting the spot there.
“Turnabout is fair play.” She let her fingertips glide over the arch of his shoulder as she turned to leave. “See you in the morning.”
But he caught her by the wrist, drawing her near so she bent down to him, face-to-face, her palm pressed against his chest. His pulse steadily thudded beneath the material.
Her own chest clenched.
“This isn’t a game you’re going to win.” His voice sent goose bumps up her arms.
She wanted to kiss him. Of course she wanted to kiss him. Who wouldn’t want to kiss this man? A nun would be hard-pressed to turn him down. She wanted to give in to every reckless impulse. But she pulled her hand from his grip and smoothed the wrinkles at the front of her shirt.
“Watch me.” She snatched the handle of her briefcase off her desk and walked out the door.
Perdie didn’t sleep well the next several days, but work managed to overtake her every waking second anyway. She played a game with herself: for each day she managed to avoid a sexually arousing encounter with Carter, she marked a little yellow star on her whiteboard.
Because today made three in a row, Lucille gave her a gift, a boat-shaped white vase teeming with lilac, dogwood, and tulips, to reward Perdie for being “so pure and chaste like a well-behaved Regency period lady.”
Perdie placed the fancy flowers on her desk with a self-satisfied smile, but after a few hours the massive arrangement began to overwhelm her. Her desk was being swallowed up by an elfin forest.
“Sorry, Luce. But this guy needs a new home.” She lugged the arrangement to Jennifer’s office next door. Due to Perdie’s patent case, she and Jennifer had also been spending quite a lot of time together. “Knock, knock.” Perdie leaned against the doorframe, inching her way in.
When Jennifer looked up, the perfect S-shape of her bright blond ponytail bobbed. And the enormous diamond ring on her left hand flashed in the midday light. Jennifer had married rich apparently. “What in god’s good name is that?”
“A gift, but I don’t have room for it in my office. I thought maybe you might like it right here?” Perdie set the flowers on an empty table near Jennifer’s window. Then she stepped back to admire Lucille’s good work.
“Oh, from Carter?” Jennifer pursed her lips but said the words casually, patting the curl of her ponytail.
Perdie froze in place. “From my friend Lucille.”
Jennifer nodded. “That’s right, your friend with the flower shop. What’s that place called again? Pricks? Edgy for a florist. Do you think she could help with a baby shower I’m planning?”
Perdie’s eyes narrowed. “What did you mean from Carter?”
Jennifer paused, her hands hovering near her keyboard. “Oh, come on, Perdita. He hasn’t even been here a month but it’s so obvious the way he’s been trailing you around. Do you think he really needs to be on the third floor twenty times a day?”
A cold wave of anxiety flooded Perdie. “Of course he’s around a lot. We’re working two different cases together.” She folded her arms. “Our relationship is purely professional.” Or at least it definitely would be now...
Jennifer shrugged. “Well, my advice to you? Be careful. People talk.”
When Perdie returned to her own desk, a large rectangular box had replaced the flowers. She lifted the edge of the lid to reveal a dozen gourmet donuts.
You gotta be fucking kidding me. The timing couldn’t be worse. Had Carter slipped in and left her fucking donuts right after Jennifer warned her people were getting suspicious?
It wasn’t good.
She closed the door and sat down and picked up her desk phone to heighten her feeling of professionalism. She dialed Carter’s extension.
“Carter Leplan.”
Despite the closed door, she cupped the receiver, her words hushed. “What the fuck are you doing?”
