Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
No shit, Sherlock. “No kidding,” I mumble. Then, like the rational adult I am, I scoop up my things and bolt for the exit. I hear him mutter something under his breath as I escape.
Outside, I pause to breathe. My day is a disaster. My pride took a hit. My suit is probably ruined, and I don’t have time to change. And now, I have no caffeine. But hopefully, I’ll never see Mr. Wall-of-Muscle again.
Right? Why does that thought actually make my heart squeeze in my chest?
I trudge the four blocks to The Mercer Group on pure adrenaline with my head down and praying the coffee patch dries before I hit the lobby. The security guard, who has probably seen worse, just grins and gives me a mock salute. I spend the next eight hours fixing spreadsheets, fielding condescending emails, and explaining for the hundredth time how I got the big brown stain on my silky white blouse. By five, the only thing left holding me together is the promise of a fresh shower and a microwaved burrito.
Maybe, if I’m lucky, the universe will give me one evening without a disaster.
It’s after eight by the time I finally drag myself through the glass doors of #1 Love Place. There’s a line at the front desk, some kind of heated dispute over a misdelivered package, so I slide past and make for the sanctuary of the elevators.
All I want is to crawl into sweatpants and binge-watch a reality TV show. Traitors sounds like the perfect way to end my day.
The elevator doors part with a sigh, and for once, it’s blissfully empty. I jab the “8” button and let my head thunk against the cool metal panel. Three, maybe four deep breaths, and I’ll be home.
Just as the doors start to close, a large hand wedges itself into the seam. I flinch and glance up into the brown eyes I thought I’d never see again. Fudge my life. The universe really has it in for me.
He steps inside, crisp and sharp and a hundred percent more intimidating than he was this morning. Now he’s in a suit that looks like it was custom-built for his tall, muscular body. His hair is still perfect. His tie probably costs more than my monthly rent.
“Hello again,” he says, and his deep voice flows over me, sending electricity straight to my core.
I lock my jaw and try to appear invisible. “Hi.” I sigh because there’s no dignified way out of this.
He swipes a keycard and then punches the penthouse button. Of course, he lives in the penthouse.
“Give me a break,” I grumble to myself. At least it was supposed to be to myself.
From the way his mouth twitches, I realize I muttered it out loud. Almost a smile. “Long day?” He leans against the mirrored wall, crossing his arms. I try not to gape, but holy hell. Up close, he’s even more devastating. The lines of his jaw could cut glass. His eyes pin me in place, dark and bottomless, and I swear my heart does a somersault in my chest. His suit hugs every stupidly perfect muscle, and when he folds his arms, the fabric strains across his biceps.
My brain short-circuits. All I can think about is what those arms would feel like wrapped around me. I bet he could lift me like I weigh nothing. My cheeks flush so hard I probably look like a ripe tomato.
He just stares. Intense. Unblinking, and my freaking knees go weirdly wobbly.
Good grief. I need adult supervision.
“The longest.” I try to sound casual, but my voice does that embarrassing warble it gets when I’m nervous.
He doesn’t respond right away. The silence builds, an avalanche rolling slowly down the mountain. I stare straight ahead and watch our distorted reflections in the steel. His gaze is fixed on mine, dark and bottomless, as if he’s trying to solve a puzzle that no one else even sees.
When the numbers flash past six, he finally speaks. “About this morning. I shouldn’t have yelled.”
I blink. “You didn’t exactly yell. More like…” I wiggle my fingers, searching for the right word. “Growled.” He blinks several times, and thank the universe, the elevator stops at my floor before he’s able to come up with a response to my babbling. He’s still staring at my reflection, not at me directly. It’s weirdly intense. The doors ping open, and I scramble out with a muttered, “Sorry again.”
The doors seal with a soft thunk, and I stand there in the hallway, still holding my breath.
CHAPTER TWO
GABRIEL
If someone had asked me yesterday whether I could have my world upended by a woman, I would have laughed in their face. I don't have time for chaos. But it seems the universe decided to drop chaos right into my lap.
My coffee girl. Blonde, frazzled, and so goddamn stunning I can’t catch my breath when she’s near. I replay our collision this morning in my head, every second looped on high-def repeat. Not because I'm angry, but because I haven't stopped thinking about her since she crashed into me this morning.