by Zee Monodee
Everything in his surroundings seemed to be swallowed in a vortex with no bottom. A vortex named Logan Warrington. Such was the man’s powerful magnetism and charisma. She found herself at a loss, both for words and movements.
He trained his gaze on the stack of documents in her hand, and Neha swore the paper caught fire when he kept looking at it. The heat touched her fingers, tickling and teasing with their scorching licks, to travel up her arm, to her face, when his gaze followed the same path.
“You’ve finished?” he asked in a dry voice.
She snapped out of the hypnotic spell. Then, she extended her hand to give him the reports.
He caught it in his firm grip, his fingers an inch from hers on the cover page. The lick of fire came back, jumping from his hand to hers. She flinched and pulled her fingers away. The documents remained anchored in his grasp.
He caught her eyes with his, and her mouth went dry as she parted her lips.
What did this man have more than any other, that he could affect her in such a way?
An intimidating and ruthless predator would have the same effect, she reasoned with herself, and he was just a man, however alluring and dangerous he looked. A measure of control seeped back into her, making her throw her shoulders back and tear her gaze from his.
“Thank you,” he said, breaking the silence. His voice came out soft, not at all the harsh barking he’d uttered so far. “We’ll let you know of our decision shortly.”
This time, the edge of ice and contempt in his tone hit her.
So much for having thought a human being lay behind the predator. He had no heart.
She gave him one final glance, her gaze lingering on his hand as he placed the documents on his desk. His knuckles seemed bloodied, the scabs a dark, caked red. He’d hurt himself?
Serves him right. She hoped the injury burnt and made him extremely uncomfortable.
But then, she caught herself. Why was she thinking like a vengeful, immature child when she was a mature mother in her mid-thirties? Shaking some sense inside her, Neha however found her gaze going back to his fingers.
He seemed to pick up on her staring, and he peered up at her, his dark eyes catching hold of hers and keeping them captive. A flicker passed over his irises, lighting them in the relative darkness of the room.
She shivered and dropped her perusal, noticing his cut knuckles again. “You should put an Elastoplast on that.”
He fixed her for long seconds, and seemed to give an almost imperceptible nod as he loosened his tense jaw.
Had she really broken through his shell? An irrational elation grabbed her, but it crashed in shards when she realized who she dealt with. Sod it, what was she thinking? This man had as much feelings as the most ruthless of animals.
Yet, why did he make her tingle all over?
Suddenly discomfited beyond reason, with the iron control she exerted on herself slipping from her grasp, she said her goodbyes and whirled around.
Her breath came out laboured when she exited the office. All to do with the way the epitome of the bad boy that was the station’s manager made her feel. Tongue-tied and at a loss. Defenceless and vulnerable. Hot and totally bothered.
She shook her head. This couldn’t be allowed to go on. The more distance she could put between her and Logan Warrington, the better.
These two think they’re done with each other … But oh, how Fate will show them wrong!
Grab your copy already – releasing September 11, 2018!
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