“Why?”
At the genuine curiosity in his voice, she looked over her shoulder at his face—focused on just his face—and as she absently rubbed the dog’s head, she also noticed how he’d put down the tablet and focused on her. “You really want to know?”
“I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.”
“There aren’t enough foster families to house all the dogs, and this way each dog gets rotated to a home for individual attention. It helps with the newly abandoned dogs to have more human contact.”
“Smart idea.”
The way he listened and didn’t laugh at her for being invested in animal foster care almost made her forget the long hours he’d made her put in this week. Good thing he’d let her keep the dog at work, because if not, Coconut would end up staying crated for too many hours, in which case the shelter would be the better option.
She grinned up at him. “It’s a great rescue.”
He surprised her by slipping out of his chair and joining her on the floor. “I asked my accountant to get in touch with you next week. He’ll give you a list of where I currently donate, and I told him you get twenty percent to distribute for next year’s contributions.” When Coconut stretched her legs to touch Blake, he grabbed a paw and shook it. “Like for the animal rescue.”
“That’s so fantastic. I’ll print out the documentation for monthly sponsors. It will help so much!”
“Does losing Coconut mean we’ll have another beast in here next week?”
Something squeezed in Kira’s chest. He really was okay with the foster dogs in the office. Other staff had asked about the program, but not too many employees had pets at home. Kira respected that they knew their limitations, and with most everyone working either long days or irregular hours, pets didn’t exactly fit into their lifestyle.
“I told the placement coordinator that I wasn’t sure if I could keep fostering, but if you’re okay with it?”
When his computer dinged, he released Coconut and settled back into his chair. As he checked his email, with his back to her, he said, “I survived this week, didn’t I? Go ahead and bring in the next victim. Maybe as long as it’s small?”
She stared at his rigid back and the way his dark hair just barely brushed over his crisp collar. He might work ninety hours a week, and maybe he’d fired more than one employee for not being able to keep up with his rigorous standards, but she understood why some of her predecessors wanted more than a working relationship. She couldn’t blame them. This Blake, the one who took a couple minutes to pet a homeless dog, threatened her equilibrium.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but right now I could kiss you.”
Blake choked back the image of his lips covering Kira’s and said, “Uh. Thank you?”
She must have sensed she’d irritated him, because she skipped around to the front of the desk and clarified, “Appropriately, of course, and it’s not like I’d really kiss you. I mean.” Her eyes widened. “I only meant—um—thank you. Thank you again for being so generous.”
His mouth curved into a frown, but his body responded to her flirtation about rewarding him with appropriate kisses for letting her foster. He picked up his tablet and swiped back to the email from the architect. However she’d meant it, he now had an image of her kissing him, and he waited until she’d backed out of his office before swiveling around to stare out the window at the bay. He glanced at the horizon, trying to remember the last time he’d been so distracted.
He’d never had a secretary he couldn’t figure out, and because she’d only taken the job to influence the decision of the downtown plans, he couldn’t fit her into a neat box labeled, “Secretary.” Not when she left him brilliant comments on pink sticky notes referencing clients and follow-up conference calls.
The dog had been a surprise, but people in the office responded well, and other than leaving her desk to walk Coconut, the animal didn’t disrupt his work day much. She had also made sure to email him medical journal studies in which pets were shown to lower stress and blood pressure in patients. Crafty girl.
Not that he was complaining. He could handle the tiny beast.
What he wasn’t sure he could handle was his imagination. Every day since the first one, he’d stared at her shoes and then her ass, wondering if her panties matched her stilettos like they had that first day. He really shouldn’t be looking at her like that, but the pesky memory kept resurfacing at the worse damn times, torturing him by replaying how her skirt had lifted to reveal the strip of electric blue thong that perfectly matched the bows tied around her ankles.
He had a million and ten demanding issues that needed his attention, including how she’d just roped him into participating in the Edgewater Animal Rescue foster program.
Now, not only would he contribute funds on a monthly basis to support the rescue, but he’d agreed to have different dogs delivered to his office every week. While he happened to love animals, he wondered who would save his jaded ass from the young woman with doe-brown eyes and plump lips he’d like to feast upon.
He didn’t date in the workplace, but lately he hadn’t dated anywhere. That had to be the reason Kira caught his attention.
He risked a sideways glance to see if she was at her desk and caught her reading her email, her legs crossed, the heel of one shoe dangling from her toe. Damn sexy. What he wouldn’t give to have those legs wrapped around his hips. But he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about her like that. Even if the sight of her bare legs made him forget he wasn’t a teenager.
She arched back, stretching provocatively. Her shoe fell from her toe, and as she bent to retrieve it, the chair slid out from under her. Landing with a soft thud and a quiet laugh, she turned and caught him staring at her. Neither of them moved for what seemed like an eternity, and he couldn’t look away from the light in her dark eyes.
She broke their eye contact first, and as she slipped on her shoe and regained her seat, he picked up the file on his desk. She’d wasted no time organizing his folders and commandeering his calendar. The girl had savvy written all over her, and although he hadn’t known anything about her when he’d offered her the job, she’d more than proven she was exactly what Keith had in mind when he said to hire a secretary who would stick around, focus on work, and not want to sleep with him.
Part of her intrigue had to be her commitment to preserving the downtown area. In order to save a building, she’d been willing to sign away a year of her life. He couldn’t help it. He admired her.
Too bad he couldn’t claim the same kind of self-control. He still couldn’t believe he’d suggested the arrangement so spontaneously. But, he’d always been focused on expanding the investments his grandfather had started and never before had he allowed a woman to take precedence over the company’s bottom line. Apparently, he’d hired the only woman able to capture his interest in a long while.
His computer dinged. Lunch meeting with Christopher Harlowe to discuss a new software integration system for their law firm, which gave him a great idea.
Grabbing his wallet from the drawer, he shoved his sunglasses to the top of his head and grinned like a teenager in lust. His reaction was ridiculous, but there it was. She made him want to forget about work for even the briefest of moments and just—be.
“Kira?”
“Sir?”
Call him egotistical, but he loved when she called him sir. “I’m heading out to a business lunch. I’d like you to join me.”
Her face brightened. “Really?” She sounded so damn excited. She stood and smoothed her hands down her lean frame, accentuating the curves under her sundress. “Let me put Coconut in Tish’s office.” She moved out of his office, and he followed her.
Damn his stupid libido and his rash invitation. He didn’t need her there, but Kira already had Coconut in her arms, her purse over her shoulder, and that excited smile on her mouth.
Her roommate took the dog without question. Then, Kira and he caught the elevator before he could c
hange his mind.
She followed him to the parking lot. “This is so exciting.”
“It’s lunch.” He hoped he hadn’t made a mistake in leading her to think this was anything but a meal with a vendor. But he’d wanted to spend more time with her, and just because he’d never done it in the past, didn’t mean it was abnormal for him to invite his secretary to a business lunch.
“Yes. I love lunch.” She hopped in the passenger seat and clicked into her seat belt, the strap snugly outlining her breasts. “Where are we going? It wasn’t marked on your calendar.”
A dozen inappropriate answers flew to the tip of his tongue. He choked them back and said, “Limoncello’s,” naming the exclusive restaurant.
“I love that place! Do you need me to take notes?”
He could feel her looking at him, but he kept his gaze on the road and not on her bare calves.
“Mostly it’s networking. Christopher Harlowe is the new kid on the technology block. We’re interested in his integration software for our medical center.” Given his limitations regarding technology, Blake didn’t go into further detail.
“The one on Palm Street?”
She’d definitely done her research on his current projects. Impressive.
In his peripheral vision, he noticed her twist toward him, and when she tucked one leg under the other, her flimsy dress rose farther up her thigh. “So you don’t really need me?”
The light scent of her perfume lingered in his brain, along with the quick glimpse he caught of her smooth thigh now burning the sexy image into his memory. He forced his gaze forward, driving a little more recklessly than usual in order to get them out of the confines of the SUV. He hadn’t anticipated the close proximity sharing a vehicle would entail. It would be so easy for him to stretch his hand and touch her bare skin.
His grip tightened on the steering wheel. “No, I need you.”
She swallowed loud enough for him to hear. Had she misinterpreted that remark? He could mean it so many different ways. Okay, two different ways. But he didn’t. Mean it. Like that. He had to clarify.
“Kira.” He meant to say her name as a warning, but it came out sounding like a plea.
“What?” Her innocent tone caught him in the gut every damn time, and he couldn’t leave her alone. She’d told him from the start that she wasn’t interested, so why did he view that as a challenge?
What was the matter with him? He never mixed work with pleasure, and they had a contract stating she’d be his employee for one year. She was forbidden fruit. Other coworkers had dated and broken up across different departments without bringing serious drama to work, but Blake never risked it. He’d never wanted to risk it.
He reminded himself she was only interested in him for what his company could do for her, anyway. “I’m bringing you along because I’m interested in your impression of this potential vendor. You’re sharp, you’ve done great work this week, and you’ve got good instincts. Just make notes of any questions that come up along the way.”
The heat from the Floridian sun baked the car. He opened his door, hot and anxious to put some space between them.
Slipping from the car, she said, “Oh. Thank you.”
She sashayed around the back of the SUV, the cutest wrinkle in her nose.
A warning shot straight to his gut, like he’d just left Pandora’s box unlocked, but these unused emotions intrigued him, and he was curious. Shoving aside his inappropriate thoughts, he matched her step as they approached the restaurant. He knew the exact moment Christopher Harlowe spotted them. The man licked his lips, his gaze so obviously on Kira’s long legs, that Blake instinctively stepped in front of her, blocking her from Christopher’s view.
The man shook his hand but made no effort to hide his interest in Kira. “Hi, I’m Christopher.”
“Hello. I’m Kira.” Her voice sounded half an octave lower and slightly on the formal side. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Blake glanced over his shoulder to see his secretary, her mouth closed in a tight-lipped smile. Gone was her flirty demeanor.
For some reason, one he wasn’t ready to explore, this pleased him immensely.
Chapter Seven
“Why didn’t you silence your phone?” Tish hissed as Kira dug around her oversized bag for the source of the interruption.
“I did.” Or at least she thought she had. It shouldn’t have mattered. The only people she usually hung around on a Sunday night were sitting in the movie theater with her. No one actually called her phone anymore, not even her father. So the obnoxiously repetitive old rotary dial ring had to be a wrong number.
When she finally located the phone, she clicked it silent and then stared in disbelief at the number she’d just ignored.
Blake Whitman.
To say her pulse sped up was an understatement, and that was followed by annoyance at her body betraying her. Once again, just the thought of Blake had her imagining how she’d entice him if they’d met under any other circumstances. But she attended events as a volunteer, and he attended as a table sponsor.
No matter her personal feelings, she wanted him to know he could rely on her—for at least a year. After all, if he was making the serious effort to preserve the downtown area, then she would make the same level of commitment to her secretarial position.
By the time she reached the lobby, her phone chimed again with a voicemail notification.
“Kira, I know it’s Sunday night, but please call my cell if you have time. It’s not really work-related. Otherwise, I’ll see you in the morning.”
Well, that wasn’t too cryptic. Instinct had her dialing his number, since she never could turn away from someone asking for her help, but when it rang, she heard the double beep indicating he was on the other line, and left a message. Finally, a text came through.
Thanks for calling back. Sorry I missed you. All is well. Pic to follow.
The next message showed Blake holding a chocolate Labrador with a cast on its front paw.
Her heart squeezed at the image, and she swallowed the giant lump of feelings in her throat as she texted him back.
Awww, so cute. What happened?
Hit and run by hospital. Didn’t know where to take him. Nurse gave me address to emergency vet.
Do you need me to come get him?
I’m good. We’re still here.
Text me the address. I’ll be there in a bit.
Damn Blake and his hit-and-run rescue. She’d spent the weekend keeping busy, trying to keep her mind from wandering to her boss. One text message, and she understood how those other secretaries—the ones he’d fired for getting too close—had fallen under his spell. And if she didn’t stay on the straight and narrow for a year, he’d fire her. She couldn’t just throw herself at him or she’d never save the building and lose those extra dollars toward funding her favorite charities.
And those were the last things she wanted to lose. Still…
She texted Tish.
I have to go.
What? Why? Blake?
It’s all good. I’ll grab a cab. Text me later.
Kira rushed outside and moved toward Restaurant Row of the Edgewater Town Center. The place was packed for a Sunday night, and she couldn’t help but notice how popular the trendy town center was. Was that what the city council intended when they voted to redo the downtown area by the bay?
How on earth did she plan to save an entire district, when this was child’s play to the Whitman-Madison executives? She studied the town center shaped in a quadrant with restaurants on one side, shops on the other, and the movie theater and pavilion bookending the area—this required board approval and millions of dollars.
For the first time, she questioned Blake’s motives for agreeing to go to bat for her building. Maybe it was just a game to him, like hiring a secretary who’d come without qualifications or recommendations.
The cabs lined the side of the street, and she moved to the front one and instructed the drive
r to take her to the emergency vet clinic. In the fifteen minutes it took the cabbie to cross town, she reapplied her lip gloss and ran her fingers through her hair. The outfit screamed girls’ night, but she couldn’t do much to change from the fitted miniskirt and threadbare deep V neck tee shirt that had the word LIVE scrawled across her chest.
Blake sat on the wooden bench in the waiting room, with his elbows on his thighs and his head balanced on his clasped hands. She’d never seen him in casual clothes. Slightly rumpled in an untucked navy polo shirt, plaid Bermuda shorts, and boat shoes, he stopped her in her tracks. All she could imagine was a guy she could take to the park and throw a Frisbee with or hop on a boat for an afternoon joyride over the Gulf of Mexico. He looked like…fun.
He glanced up when the door opened, and the raw worry on his face sucker punched Kira in the stomach.
Rushing over to him, she asked, “Any news?”
She saw the surprise in his eyes, but she also saw relief. He’d said she didn’t have to come, but no one should wait alone at the doctor’s, especially for a dog that wasn’t even his. “Thanks for coming.”
They spoke at the same time, and Kira pointed for him to go first. “Hit-and-run driver. No collar. But the dog’s well-groomed, so they doubt he’s a stray. Did you know you can put a chip in your dog?”
“I did.” Her mind reeled. How many times would he do something wonderful and how many times would she be caught off guard because of it?
“Thank you for coming.” He leaned back and crossed an ankle over his knee.
She stared at his calf, at the smattering of dark hair running up his leg, and wondered if his chest had a little or a lot of hair. Blinking away any yummy images and scolding herself for even thinking about Blake shirtless, she said, “If they don’t keep him here, and they can’t find his owner, then I’ll take him home for the night.”
He held up a brochure. “I’ve got it covered.”
She snatched the pamphlet from him. “You do? You’ll care for an injured dog based on this trifold?”
Blurring the Lines (Men of the Zodiac) Page 5
