“I can’t,” she murmured, kissing him softly. Michelle stood, brushing out wrinkles in her suit.
Connor shrugged as though it didn’t matter, but his expression said otherwise. “No big deal. I’ll see you later.”
* * * *
The next morning, Michelle looked at the clock on the office wall—9:00 a.m. If there was true justice in the world, it should be 5:00 p.m. considering she’d already put in five hours. She took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. Her pens were lying sideways and she reached out to straighten them, but then shook her head. Nope. As difficult as it was, she had to leave them as they were. A little disorder never harmed anyone.
Maybe she should have slept in this morning, but then again, she wouldn’t have finished typing the report for the insurance company in a pending case, or read an interesting article in the Business Weekly. A rising issue with workers developing asthma in a manufacturing warehouse. One she and her counterparts could end up in. Quite a productive day.
She opened up her e-mail and scanned the listing of messages. There was one marked urgent from Sigsmond. The day was getting a little more interesting. She reclined back in her chair and wished she could put her feet up on her desk.
With a confident click of her mouse, she opened it up and began to read. It was just as she suspected, her co-worker needed help with the inspection of the dairy product warehouse. She’d tried to tell Sigsmond earlier, but did he listen? Noooo. Not to low-on-the-totem-pole Lewis. Not until the inspection was on the verge of being totally botched. Not a good thing since a potential lawsuit could come out of this. She reread the last line:
I know you’ve been working a lot of hours, but would you help Timmer? I’d consider it a personal favor.
Personal favor. She saved the e-mail in her folder named PF, and went to see what was up with Susan Timmer. When Michelle entered Susan’s office, she looked up from her computer. “Hey you.” She smiled.
Michelle got right to the point. “Sigsmond said you need some assistance.”
The smile slipped. “No, I have it.”
She shook her head. “When’s the next inspection?”
“Next week.”
She looked pleased. It was a nightmare. “Have you addressed the issues mentioned in the original complaint?”
“Uh, I think I have addressed most of them, but not all.”
“Look, you handle compiling the information on the inspection that has already been completed and I’ll take care of what still needs to be inspected.”
This would mean a few extra late nights, but they could salvage this.
Susan pushed her keyboard away and stood up. “I’m sorry.”
Michelle froze. “What for?”
“I should have asked for help earlier. Just found out that I’m pregnant, and well, my husband and I are excited. I’ve taken some time off. It’s hard to work when your mind is elsewhere.”
Michelle sat down in a chair, amazed. She didn’t even know Susan was married. “Congratulations.”
Susan’s smile was truly joyous. “Thanks. I’m just on the other side of four months. I will probably start showing soon.”
“How do you do it?” Michelle had always just worked. It was a simple solution.
“You have to make it work, so you do. I’m going to cut back some. Take some easier cases. Wait until you have a husband and children, then you will understand. You ever think about getting married?”
Not until recently. It had never seemed appealing before. “Some.”
Susan laughed. “I hear there is a top position becoming available. You’ll get it. Just you wait.”
Michelle didn’t need to be thinking like that. Time to change the subject. “Why don’t you let me take a look at the case? I’ll study it. Then that way, if you need me, just ask.”
“Thanks. I owe you big time for this.”
“No, you don’t. This one’s on the house.”
Michelle took the file folders and walked out of the office. She shut the door behind her and ran straight into Sigsmond.
Michelle juggled the files in her hands. “Good morning, sir.”
“Assisting Timmer?”
“Yes, sir, but I don’t think she needs much help, sir. She’s doing a fine job.”
“I am very happy to hear that. Well, get back to it,” he said, then he hurried down the hall.
Soon. She had six years under her belt and already they were dangling the carrot in front of her. Someday real soon.
When she returned to her office and shut the door, the noticed a letter on her desk. Heavy stationary with bold printing no less. She stared at the letter for a few moments before she opened it.
Dear Michelle,
Although a thank-you note seems somewhat strange, I just want to put your mind at ease.
I realize it is time that I move with my life, but I need to thank you for giving me so much happiness. You were nice to me when others weren’t and, dreamer that I am, I could always imagine that there was more between the two of us than there really was.
You have always been the consummate lady. If there is such a flaw, it is that you were too much the lady, trying not to insult my fragile ego. Please forgive my annoying persistence in the past. It appears I play the fool better than most. I’ll say nothing more about my brother. You know my opinion on that subject. Although perhaps I should credit him for allowing you access to the bit of shining armor you seem to see.
I am looking forward to meeting your friend and will watch my brother closely. I do not want to see you hurt. If he does, he shall answer to me.
Sincerely,
Theodore
Michelle opened a drawer to hunt down a box of facial tissues. Beneath that arrogant exterior was a kindhearted man. She needed to call and tell Vivien how lucky she was. This weekend, she would be going on a dream date with a wonderful man—Theodore Sakuma.
All her life people had made assumptions about Michelle. Now she found herself guilty of the same thing. The phone lingered right under her hand. She should call Connor and let him know. This time, there was no doubt. The plan was actually working. A big surprise to her. Not only was Theodore moving on with his life, but she was, too. Now she had a life outside of work. She’d been to the park, a museum, a club, and she had started reading—for fun—and she had found the time to talk to her parents on the phone.
But the biggest surprise of all, she was working fewer hours. Down by about six point three hours per week, but still…it was a start. And she’d get better as she went along.
All because of Connor.
That made her smile.
She leaned back in her chair and, this time, she did put her feet up on the desk—after all, the door was shut. She remembered their conversations, the way he looked at her with those magical eyes of his. All life and heat, and oh…she shivered.
Her fingers lightly touched the buttons on her phone. Maybe he’d just want to see her again because he enjoyed her company. Because she could make him laugh. Because he wanted to kiss her. Because he wanted to do more… She loved the way he kissed, so unrestrained, uncontrolled. Connor knew who he was, and when he kissed her, she knew it too. And when he took her to bed…
Her eyes drifted shut. The men she’d dated in the past had never even broken a sweat in bed. Connor would be different.
He would carry her into the bedroom… Nope, that was all wrong. They’d barely get the door shut and he’d press her against the wall. Yeah, that was more like Connor’s style. He’d kiss her then. Muscles holding her against the wall, tongue thrusting inside her mouth, circling. Hungry and greedy. He’d be breathing heavily in her ear, telling her what he wanted to do to her. How she would respond?
Michelle clenched her fists a few times, taking deep breaths. Oh, this was getting good.
He would rip off her shirt, the buttons flying across the room. Her bra would be no obstacle; he’d unfasten the clasp with one hand. His desire had him whipped up in a frenzy. His desir
e for her. Every bit of her was throbbing, pleading for his hands, his mouth. Her nipples were hard and sensitive, aching to be touched. He’d tell her how perfect she was. Then his lips would clamp over her breast.
At last.
Sucking hard and fast. She would bury her hands in his hair, welcoming the pressure. But she wanted more. She rubbed against him, feeling his erection, the friction between them making her insane.
His hands would fumble at her skirt, and he’d rip his fingers through her hose. She whimpered, wanting relief. He would hold her hand against him with his big strong hands.
Oh, it would be bliss, pure bliss. His fingers would plunge inside her. Exploring. Discovering the exact spot that would make her beg. She’d fumble with his fly, desperate now, almost begging to have him inside her. Wet and hungry for him. He’d laugh and tell her how hot she was. How good they would be together.
She moaned weakly, anticipating. And now, just when she was ready to go over the edge, he’d slow everything down to a torturous pace. His fingers would play inside her, first one, and then two. Everything inside building, centered on that heated flesh, damp between her thighs. He’d tell her how he wanted to make love to her all night.
She closed her eyes and moaned.
All night?
Her eyes flew open. In return, she’d work her way inside his pants, touching him carefully at first. He’d be all hard and silky, his breathing shallow. She’d stroke the tip of him, and then he’d moan, and so she’d get serious. He’d tilt her chin up, and their eyes would lock. Slowly, she’d stroke him. Then faster.
She smiled to herself. This time, he would beg.
Finally, his pants would go. And then his boxers or briefs. For Connor? Boxer briefs, definitely boxer briefs. By that time she would badly want to get that powerful piece of him inside her. He’d pull her up until she was straddling him, her legs wrapped around his waist. And then, with one blessed thrust, right inside her.
Oh.
He’d start to move, and she’d hold on for dear life. He would ravish her. Her back would be pressed against the door, and each time he thrust, she would rap against it.
The pen bounced on her desk.
Bam.
Bam.
Bam.
Wait a second…
Bam!
Bam!
Bam!
Her eyes flew open.
“Michelle?”
A voice called from the other side of her door.
Sigsmond! Please, no.
Her legs flew down from the desk and she straightened her skirt. Oh, crap. She pressed her thighs together, her muscles still a little jumpy. “Come in.”
He entered her office and sat down in the chair opposite her desk. That mean he was going to stay.
Darn it.
“Michelle, I’d like to thank you for your help with Susan. You’ve been a real asset lately, picking up whatever needs to be done, finding cases on your own.”
“Did you need my help with something, sir?”
“Yes. I have another favor to ask. Dorsey is having some problems with the inspection that he did at the cell phone plant. I promised to get him some help. I need someone really good. I think you’re the perfect person for the job.”
She stared at the pens, so straight and upright. Right in their place. This was it. This was the chance she need. Help out another co-worker—fast track to the promotion.
“I’d be happy to,” she began, and then stopped herself. “But you know, I don’t think I could give Dorsey’s case the attention it deserves. Garcia’s case and helping out Susan is going to be a real bear considering my existing caseload… The great thing about our division is that all of the liaisons are top-notch and I’m sure anyone you pick to help Dorsey will be the very best. You’ve done a wonderful job assembling talent at this firm, sir. You should be proud.”
Michelle took one of the pens from the holder and spun it sideways on her desk blotter. She waited, anxious to see his reaction. His face fell. Disappointment. Crap.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Michelle. I knew you were the one.” He rose and adjusted his jacket, and then started walking toward the door. And there was her promotion. Walking right out with him.
“Wait!”
He turned, a brow raised. “Yes?”
Michelle walked from behind the desk. She wasn’t ready to give it up yet. “If my schedule eases up, if there is a quick recovery from Royal Cleaning Company, I could take this one.”
“But you can’t right now?”
She hesitated, but in the end she knew her answer. “Well, no.”
“I see.” Disappointment was back.
Well, that was too bad. Michelle stood her ground. “No, I can’t right now. I’m sorry.”
He walked out the door and she collapsed in her chair.
What had she done?
Chapter Nine
Michelle arranged to meet Connor after work—six o’clock at the Blue Finn Park. She tried to slip out at five o’clock without anyone noticing, but as luck would have it, Sigsmond had decided to refill his coffee just when she was slinking down the hall, briefcase and keys in hand. “Leaving for the day?” he asked, pouring a little creamer in his cup.
She could come up with all sorts of excuses, wanting to work at home or needing to meet with a client. Any of the standard replies that a person seeking a promotion would make.
“Yes,” she said, waiting to see what politically correct alibi she could come up with. But instead of the dedicated, ambitious, quick thinking person she was, she was struck dumb.
“I suppose you know management will be meeting next week? Going to see who’s going to receive the coveted promotion. It’s no secret you’re up for consideration.”
“Is it time to make that decision already?” she asked, knowing that the date had been marked on her calendar for several weeks.
“Yes, you’ve been working very hard. Doing extremely well. You have bright future here at the agency.”
“Thank you, sir,” she said, discreetly checking her watch. She needed to leave soon if she was to be on time.
“Are there any new developments with Timmer’s case? Has she messed it up badly?”
“Oh, no. No, sir. She has everything taken care of. Nothing much for me to do, really. I set up another meeting with management next week. I think they are already making improvements to the work area.”
“That’s good.” He leaned his hip against the counter. “I knew you were the person to take on that challenge.”
“Anytime, sir.” Just not right now.
“And I’m going to keep you in mind. I wanted to talk to you about the Garcia lawsuit.”
“Yes, yes.” She nodded obediently.
“I’m not certain he has much of a case, Lewis. Are you sure there’s any potential for recovery there. It’s taking up quite a bit of your time. Without a positive ruling in his favor, is it really going to be worth it?”
She took on an authoritative stance, looking Sigsmond right in the eye. “Don’t worry. I’m thinking that once Royal Cleaning Company sees the memos that Berman has discovered from their old president, a ruling in Mr. Garcia’s favor won’t be an issue. And Royal Cleaning Company will be more than ready to talk settlement rather than risk getting nailed to the wall by a jury. A payout will be the least of their worries. They’ll be more concerned with a confidentiality agreement to keep the news media off their backs. I’m sure Berman will give it to them, too. For a steep price.”
“I trust your judgment, Lewis.”
She sneaked a look at her watch—five-ten. She was going to be late. “You won’t be disappointed, sir. Now, if you will excuse me?”
Sigsmond looked apologetic. “I’ve been holding you up, haven’t I? Go on.”
“Are you sure?” She did her best to look sincere.
“Take advantage of it while you can. If you receive this promotion, these warm spring days will be a thing of the past.”
Mic
helle took off down the hall, and as soon as she got out the door, she ran.
* * * *
Connor checked the time. Michelle was late. Connor had never considered himself a punctual person, and it had never bothered him before to be kept waiting. But damn it, he’d been counting the minutes all day, and some little part of him had hoped she’d been counting as well. Wrong again, Sakuma.
With spring gearing up, Blue Finn Park was always busy at six o’clock. There were mothers with toddlers, roller-skating teenagers, and the usual assortment of kids on bikes. A golden retriever bounded by with a stick in its mouth and its owner in hot pursuit. For a few moments, he scanned the park, and then he saw her.
She moved with an easy grace. Her hair swaying around her shoulder when the wind caught it. Heads turned when Michelle walked by, but she was always too busy to notice. He looked down at his own casual dress and frowned. He should have dressed up more. She was in navy pinstripes and it should have looked manly, but the fitted material did nothing to hide her curves.
Okay, so maybe the day was improving. Radically. Damn, he was lucky. That dark-haired—that attractive, intelligent, dark-haired woman—was heading right for him.
“Hello, handsome.”
“You’re late.” Not the “I need to make love to you or die” that he wanted to shout, but close enough.
“Do I get a kiss?”
She didn’t need to ask. His hands were already reaching out as Michelle leaned in, fitting his body perfectly. At the first touch of her lips, lust rushed through him, rendering him incapable of thinking. God, he could never get enough of her.
He clutched her waist in his hands, pulling her closer, positioning her between his thighs. She rocked up against him, and he heard someone moan. That someone was him.
How could someone who looked so delicate, so fragile, kiss like that? He needed to breathe, draw some sort of oxygen into his lungs, but he couldn’t move. He could stand here forever like this, just feasting on her mouth.
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