When I was done she made a sympathetic face.
“Well, I don’t know him, but I know you and I know that you take your job seriously and you won’t let anything get in the way of it. So I know that you’re going to put on your big girl panties and go back to work and be a goddamn professional.” She raised her glass and I clinked it with mine.
That’s right. I was a goddamn professional.
No guy with stormy eyes and a fuck me smile and a magic tongue was going to stand in the way of that.
Because I was a goddamn professional.
~*~*~
My confidence in my ability to be professional lasted as long as it took for me to walk to his desk and tell him that he could take his break.
The second I met those eyes and saw that mouth forming words, I was lost again.
“You okay?” He caught on, of course.
“Yeah, I just had a mimosa and I think it went to my head.” Wow, brilliant save there Rory.
“Or maybe you’re just going to swoon in my presence. Would you like me to catch you and then fetch the smelling salts?” And just like that, I was wondering how I ever found him attractive.
“You get a half hour. No more. Be back here at one-thirty or you’re fired.” I stomped back to my office and shut the door. Seconds later, I heard his footsteps walking toward the elevator. I turned on my computer and threw myself back into work. Ah, work. My sanctuary.
I went back to working on the presentation, but checked the clock every few seconds. At one-thirty on the dot, there was a knock at my door. Damn.
“I’m back, Miss Clarke,” he said, actually coming into the office this time and closing the door behind him. The place felt like it grew increasingly smaller until it was barely a closet.
“Thank you for your punctuality, Mr. Blaine.” I straightened some papers on my desk, trying to breathe normally.
“You are most welcome, Miss Clarke,” he said, sauntering toward the desk and resting his hands on it and leaning forward. “And please, if there’s anything I can do for you, anything, all you have to do is ask.” His voice dipped into a lower register that made my insides do funny backflips and cartwheels as his face came within a foot of mine.
“Anything,” he breathed.
I found myself involuntarily leaning forward and our lips were a whisper away . . .
And there was a knock at the door and we broke apart like teenagers getting busted under the bleachers. I banged my knee on the desk and he nearly crashed into the credenza near the door trying to put space between us.
“Come in,” I said, rubbing my knee and trying not to wince too much as Lucas (Mr. Blaine) straightened his tie.
“Sorry to bother you, dear, but I just had a call for you and I didn’t see Mr. Blaine at his desk, but clearly he is here. Would you like me to transfer it?” Mrs. Andrews, bless her heart, seemed totally oblivious that she’d walked into a wall of sexual tension. Still, it’s a little strange that she walked all the way down here to tell me about a call when she could have just called my extension and the put the call through. Huh.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Fintan Herald.” Fabulous.
“Sure, you can transfer him, Mrs. Andrews.” I gave her a smile and she nodded, her hand still on the doorknob.
“Of course, dear.”
“Nice to see you, Mrs. Andrews,” Mr. Blaine said to her.
“It’s nice to see you as well, Mr. Blaine. I hear we have high expectations for you.” Obviously, she’d talked to Dad about him. I would have been surprised if they hadn’t talked about him.
“I will do my best to live up to those expectations and exceed them.”
“You’d better,” Mrs. Andrews said with a mock straight face. Yup, she was part of his fan club. She gave me a smile before leaving. A few seconds later my phone rang with the transferred call from Fin.
“I need to take this,” I said, as Lucas (JE-SUS CHRIST, MR. BLAINE!) started to back out of the office and got back to his desk.