She met his gaze. “You’re an arrogant ass. You know that, don’t you?”
Relief filled him. “I’ve heard it before.”
“You’re right, though. I do love you. I hate the idea of not knowing when or if I’ll see you again. And I can’t give you up.”
Hearing her say the words buoyed him in a way he didn’t think possible. He felt so light he might float away. “Is that a yes, to the moving in?”
“And a tentative yes to the merger. And a God-damn-fucking-straight I want to see you tonight.”
He knotted his fingers in her hair, rose to eye level, and crushed his mouth to hers until she was the only thing in the world. When they broke apart, it was with a gasp.
She laid soft kisses along his mouth. “You really should get to work.” Her tone was light and playful.
“I am. Have your lawyer call mine?”
“You say the sexiest things. And okay.”
This was insane. All of it impulsive and unplanned and completely open to go wrong. Ian wasn’t worried. As he studied Mercy—her bright gaze, her flushed and swollen lips—he’d never been more certain he was doing the right thing.
* * * *
One month later
Mercy resisted the urge to adjust her stockings. Again. The pencil skirt felt too tight, the matching jacket too restrictive in the shoulders, and the silk shirt underneath was suffocating.
Liz said she needed to look nice, though. As much as Mercy put on a bold face and insisted over and over she had this covered—she could do professional—she was still terrified. Last time this much anxiousness filled her, eighteen-year-old her was hopping on a plane to South America and leaving her past behind.
She licked her lips, but it didn’t help bring the moisture back into her mouth. It wasn’t as though she thought this was a bad idea. The opposite. She struggled to believe it had gone so well up to this point. The contracts were in place, the details ironed out, and her attorney assured her she didn’t surrender any autonomy in this deal.
One of the paralegals led Mercy and her lawyer into a conference room, and Mercy’s pulse hammered in her ears. Ian already sat at the table, next to his own representative. Seeing him helped relieve some of the tension, especially with the smile he flashed her as everyone shook hands.
A notary and witnesses were there. It was Mercy’s understanding that this type of paperwork was usually signed with the interested parties in separate rooms, at different times, and everything was assembled afterward. She wanted Ian with her, though. His presence was comforting, despite the stuffy professional atmosphere sucking the life from the air.
For the next hour and a half, people pointed at signature lines, skipped over so much of the relevant information in their contracts, and asked them both to pen things. She knew what was in the documents; she’d scoured them for weeks.
When it was all done, her wrist ached, and the adrenaline coursing through her had dulled to a raw gnawing in her gut.
People shook hands again, congratulations were passed around, and Ian’s lawyer told him he could have the room if he needed to finish anything up.
The moment the door closed after the last person, leaving Ian and Mercy alone, she slumped into her chair in relief. Checks needed to clear escrow—she was assured it was only a formality—and other behind-the-scenes stuff would still happen, but as far as she knew, it was as good as done. Which also meant Ian’s people could deal with this professional, legal, stressful bullshit in the future. Not that she thought the transition would be easy—integrating staff, figuring out logistics—but she looked forward to the challenge.
Ian crossed the room, rolled her chair back a few inches, and rested against the edge of the table, facing her. His smile grew. “So, Ms. Rowe, welcome to Thompson Advertising.”
“Rowe and Thompson Advertising.” She couldn’t even pretend to be irritated.
He grasped her fingers and pulled her to her feet and into him. “Of course. How could I forget?”
“With the number of times we went back and forth over naming?” She knew he hadn’t even started to. She draped her arms around his neck and slid between his legs. Pressing her body to his was one of her favorite pastimes. She didn’t see it ever getting old. The heat, the familiar smell of aftershave and him—she didn’t know how else to describe it—was all just right. “Well, I’m broke until the checks clear. Where are you taking me for lunch?”
He glided his hands down her back and over her ass. When he reached the hem of her skirt, he inched it up, until he brushed her thighs with his fingers. “I thought I’d eat here.” He slid higher, to the edge of her panties.
“In the lawyer’s office.” She sucked in a sharp breath at the teasing contact, and it took all her restraint not to shift her weight enough to grind against his hand.
“No?”
“We should at least make it to the car.”
He kissed her hard, holding her close enough his erection dug into her stomach. When he broke away, he didn’t let go. “You’re going to have to walk in front of me. I can’t hide this.”
“Whose fault is that?”
“Yours.” He shifted his hands to her hips and pushed her back. “But I’ll compromise. I’ll try and keep my hands to myself, mostly, until we’re out of the office, if I get to cop a feel in the elevator.”
“I suppose.” She laced her fingers with his and tugged him toward the door. “But only because I would’ve let you do that anyway.”
With his warm palm settled against her skin, and the energy flowing between them—hell, with everything—Mercy’s heart felt safe for the first time in her life.
It was a better sensation than she ever imagined.
THE END
~*~
If you enjoyed Ian and Mercy’s story, and want to read about the rest of the gang, the remaining Your Ad Here books are coming later in 2016.
In Leasing Love, Liz is finally getting her life on track. Until legal snags, thanks to the merger, hit Rowe and Thompson Advertising. On top of that, Liz’s ex-fiancé makes national news when he’s arrested for securities fraud, and drags her into the spotlight. And then there are her new neighbors. Infuriating. Provoking. And oh so tempting.
~*~
In the meantime, if you’re looking for more cubicle dwellers and geek love to warm your heart and scorch the pages of your e-reader, check out the Love Hack series, starting with Breaching His Defenses. Jared doesn’t expect to see the sexy siren who rescued him from singing a duet alone in a karaoke again. He definitely didn’t think she was behind the network security concerns plaguing his IT company.
~*~
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More by Allyson Lindt
Breaching His Defenses (Love Hack Book 1)
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About the Author
Allyson Lindt is a full-time geek and a fuller-time contemporary romance author. She prefers that her geeky heroes come with the alpha expansion pack and adores a heroine who can hold her own in a boardroom. She loves a sexy happily-ever-after and helping deserving cubicle dwellers find their futures together.
Selling Seduction (Your Ad Here #1) Page 17
