by Sonja Gunter
“No, and you know what else I saw?” Rane grabbed the saved champagne bottle from the counter, ignored Val’s open mouth, and zoomed out to the family room.
“Rane! You’re being mean. Do I have to call your mom? Remember, I am three months older than you,” Val retorted and followed her friend.
“He has a great ass,” Rane announced dreamily and sat down.
They laughed together until tears came to their eyes, each swearing they were going to pee in their pants if they didn’t stop. In-between giggles and sips of champagne the discussion turned to other parts of men’s attributes, causing another round of loud laughter.
By the time their favorite movie, The First Wives’ Club, ended, they’d depleted two mini bottles of champagne and a tray of cheese and crackers. Whenever either of them had something special to celebrate, this was their routine. Movies and drinks.
Val opened a third mini bottle and asked if she was going to ask Mr. Christmenn out. Val’s bluntness usually got her into trouble but she was used to it.
“Are you kidding? I couldn’t. He’s my boss.”
“No, he isn’t,” Val replied, and hit the play button for the next movie, Dirty Dancing.
“Yes, he— Okay, he isn’t, but he is the owner,” Rane sputtered.
“Any man with a nice ass is worth dating in my book. When can I visit? We could do lunch?”
“Yea, right! What planet are you from, Missy? My best friend comes to my office to check out the guy I’ve met twice and would love to have sex with? You bet, anytime.”
Val plopped down on the couch, frowning.
“Fine! Be that way. I’ll just drop by unexpectedly. Now hand over that ice cream before you eat it all,” Val demanded.
Rane smiled and handed over the half-gone pint of Dove Chocolate Ice Cream. She wouldn’t want the odds on that threat. Val would do it.
The minute Patrick Swayze made his appearance, they each declared he was theirs. It was their game. Whoever said it first got to dream about him. When Baby and Johnny walked off together, they called it a night.
Holding on tight to each other, laughing and tripping, they made it to the guest bedroom, arm-in-arm. Rane had to put Val to bed. She’d been the one who’d consumed most of the last bottle.
“Johnny’s mine for the night. You can have him next time,” Val slurred as her head touched the pillow.
“Okay, you can have him. I’ll have Mr. Christmenn tonight.”
Not hearing a response, Rane smiled and turned off the light.
They were like sisters through thick or thin. They’d each been married and divorced. Val’s divorce had been far worse than hers. She’d been there for Val, and Val had been there for her unexpected breakup.
Val’s advice about dating Mark had her thinking she just might be able to pull it off if she went about it slowly. What had her worried was that he probably had women falling all over him. She didn’t want to be one of them. She wasn’t a one-night stand type of girl.
In her semi-drunken state of mind, all Rane could focus on was her desire for him as she fell into bed. She wanted to taste him. She wanted him to kiss her. Soon her sexual fantasy of Mark turned into a quirky dream.
Someone or something was knocking her down. Her ex-husband was standing next to her, laughing, and looking down at her. A knight dressed in shiny silver armor came out of nowhere to rescue her. When the knight lifted his visor, blue eyes sparkled back at her.
The next morning Rane awoke tired and crabby, only to find Val gone along with a note saying she’d call her later. She’d also thanked her for letting Johnny be hers for the night and that he’d given her several orgasms.
This lightened Rane’s mood. The metaphors from the night before were still very visible in her head. Who was her knight? Did she need someone to save her? On the other hand, what did she need saving from?
Chapter 9
The fading afternoon light urged Rane to hurry and finalize the memo she was working on so she could get home in order to change for her and Val’s double date. She hadn’t wanted to go but when Val had agreed to go shopping on Saturday, she’d said yes.
Rane pressed ‘save’ and waited for her documents to print. She took pleasure in being in control and with two weeks under her belt, she felt like she’d done it. She’d scheduled four meetings to tackle the departments that she’d found needed the most help and the reports emphasized her conclusions. That’s how she worked; digging until she found out how each department ticked and then dropping the bomb.
She’d sacrificed several things to get this job done. One of them Thor, the only dependable male in her life. He’d been giving her attitude since his dinners were served later than usual. He wasn’t a cat you wanted to piss off. She’d found that out the hard way. When she’d forgotten to tell her neighbor, her cat sitter, to put out treats, he’d gone and chewed a hole in her favorite sweater.
So, to pacify her finicky cat, she’d been leaving out more kitty treats than usual. He was just going to have to learn to get used to her new schedule.
The printer spouted out the last of her ten copies and she headed out to deliver them. As she entered the hallway, the eerie quietness hit her. It was usually like this three-fourths of the time when she stayed late to work, with most of the office doors closed and only a few lights left on. She’d found that not too many employees stayed late and she’d gotten used to being alone over the last few weeks.
Mr. Christmenn’s office was her first stop. She wondered where he’d been because she hadn’t caught a glimpse of his sexy body when he’d stroll by her office once in a while. She knew she shouldn’t be thinking of him that way, but she was most definitely attracted to him, and she couldn’t help trying to steal a look every chance she got.
Because of her confession to Val, she’d sent him an e-mail requesting to meet with him for a business lunch, but she had yet to receive a reply.
“Ufff,” a very male voice exclaimed.
“Whoops,” she said, feeling herself slam against another body.
Their surprised remarks echoed throughout the silence, followed by a string of curse words. His, not hers. Rane stepped back, struggling to stop her papers from falling, then she began to fall with them.
Male hands quickly reached out to steady her and her scream stuck in her throat as she saw who she’d run into.
The one and only Mr. Christmenn!
Not again. Rane couldn’t believe her ill-fated luck. You’d think she would’ve learned her lesson the first time.
After a second or two, the initial shock wore off and she noticed how close together they were standing.
Inches.
No, millimeters.
Her breasts almost touched his chest. Her hips were centimeters from his. If she’d raised her head a little, she’d be able to lock her lips on to his for a delicious kiss.
A kiss?
What on earth was she thinking? She’d only done that in her dreams. She needed to escape before her dreams became reality and she couldn’t let that happen. When she tried to put some distant between them, she found she couldn’t. Mark still had his hands wrapped tightly around her arms and, surprisingly, she was gripping his.
“I’m so sorry! I didn’t know anyone else was still here tonight. I was in a hurry. Thor is waiting for me. I saw . . . your light was on. . . but I thought you’d left already. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have just come into your office if I’d known you were working late, too.”
Rane stopped her jumbled dialog as she recovered some of her composure at the same time.
What was the strange sound she’d heard?
She regretfully loosened her grip on his arms and tried not to pay attention to the overwhelming urge to wrap her arms around him to take advantage of the fact he still held her.
The awkwardness thickened as they stood face-to-face.
“I’m okay. I’m not going to fall,” she said.
“You have an interesting way of making your presence known, Ms. Schoen,” Mark stated as he released his hold.
To cover up her embarrassment, Rane bent down to pick up her papers but sensed his stare. Her palms became sweaty and her heart raced. Her body tingled as ripples of excitement coursed through her.
Mark’s curiosity got the better of him as he let his appreciative eye devour Rane’s body from her light blue oxford shirt right down to her high-heeled shoes. He suddenly stopped. Her feet were bare. She wasn’t wearing any shoes or nylons. Then he noticed all ten of her toes flaunted a deep purple polish. He felt his pulse quicken when he spotted a toe ring, one on each middle toe.
God in heaven, save him, he silently prayed.
His hands ached to caress each of her feet individually. He found feet highly sensual and hers were delicate and petite. He should’ve taken Philip’s earlier advice and gone to see Alicia.
He continued to watch her gather her fallen papers, but her perfume overtook him, jolting his runaway desire even higher.
He’d been in and out of the office so much he hadn’t had the full impact of it until now. Ever since she’d started working, he’d get a whiff of her perfume at the oddest moments. The scent would grab ahold of him and wouldn’t let him think, not to mention the effect it had on his body.
It was the damnedest thing. The government needed to patent its smell as a secret weapon. All they’d have to do is spray the intended criminals with her perfume and it would confuse and disorientate them as much as he was at this moment.
He took a couple of steps backward and took a second very candid look at the woman who could single-handedly take down men.
He liked what he saw. She was a very attractive woman, confirming why he was attracted to her and explaining the reason his body was reacting the way it was. When he’d caught her from falling, her body had pressed seductively up against his and he wanted to pull her closer and lose himself in what he thought were very inviting lips.
Still lost in his appraisal of her, he watched as a piece of her light brown/blond hair fell onto her face, hiding her beauty from his stare. She pushed the hair behind her ear, in an annoying sort of way. It fascinated him and disappointed him at the same time. He’d wanted to be the one to brush it from her face. Now she stood staring at him, with her papers in complete disarray, her face sporting a little blush, and her blue eyes enlarged.
It surprised him he’d mistakenly thought her eyes had been green because they were bluer than blue.
No, he’d been right they were green. The light must have played a trick on him for a moment. No, she had blue-green eyes.
What the heck?
He blinked several times because they’d gone back to blue. Her eye color had changed right before him! It was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen. He’d read about eyes that changed colors in the stories about Pernese Dragons, but to actually see it happen in person was truly remarkable.
“I’m glad to see you feel right at home,” Mark said, and glanced down at her feet to emphasize his words.
Rane followed his smiling blue eyes to her feet. Her shoes! Damn. She’d taken them off as she usually did toward the end of the day and forgotten to put them back on when she’d left her office.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Christmenn, it won’t happen again. If you will excuse, me I’ll be on my way.”
Turning quickly, she left his office, unknowingly leaving behind a tantalizing breeze of her perfume, and went straight back to her office to recover her shoes.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. How could she have run around with no shoes on? Not too bright in her book. To top it off, being caught by the president was even worse.
Rane shook her head. So far, she’d bumped into him twice. Not just simple innocent “excuse me” taps. No, they’d been extremely hard, body-smashing smacks. Not to mention that this time her breasts were still tingling from the contact. To her embarrassment, she’d also gotten a very good impression of just what kind of package his trousers hid.
Fanning herself, she reached under her desk for her shoes as she imagined more details of his hidden anatomy.
Self-control, Rane.
Yea, right.
It had gone out the door with her pride. How could she simply ignore Mark’s sexy body? She couldn’t, and that was her problem.
It had been odd having to look up to see his face, considering she was five foot six inches tall. She’d have actually fit perfectly in his arms, which would be to their advantage if they ever found themselves naked in bed.
Naked! In bed together?
What was she thinking? But that was her problem. She had to stop thinking, but she couldn’t. His blue eyes, and hard body, were hard to forget.
After she’d picked up her papers from the floor, she’d found Mark staring at her and sporting a smile with lips that would be able to do some extraordinary damage to another pair of lips.
Well, she was convinced they’d be able to and wondered what it would be like to have those sensual lips kissing her.
However, the reality was that he was the owner of the company and ultimately her boss and almost certainly couldn’t even fathom her as a woman. He probably thought she was a real klutz.
What did it matter what he thought? It wasn’t as if she was going to go out with him.
Val was wrong. Mark was off limits. Bad news all the way. She wanted and liked her job. End of the daydream.
Rane hastily slipped on her shoes and continued delivering her memos, except the damn sexually frustrating episode wouldn’t leave her brain. So, again, she shook her head as the scene kept playing over and over in her mind. She had a job to do here and having a sexual affair with Mr. Hunk wasn’t on the agenda and couldn’t be.
Period.
The remaining thoughts of what Mr. Christmenn could or couldn’t do vanished and she found herself back at her office. All she wanted to do was leave and do it as quickly as possible, but in her haste she had almost forgotten her briefcase and had to go back for it. She then walked promptly and quietly to the elevators, not wanting another encounter with Mr. Christmenn, The Wall.
She laughed a little at the name she’d come up for him. It fit him. He never seemed to say anything and he was as hard as a wall. Smiling to herself at her analogy, Rane glanced to the right.
His light was still on. He must still be in the building. She pushed the ‘Down’ button and it sounded out a very loud beep.
“Good night, Ms. Schoen.”
She groaned inwardly.
“Good night, Mr. Christmenn,” Rane courteously called back, wishing the doors would hurry up and open.
Chapter 10
“Philip, go to the main parking level garage and make sure the woman who just left the sixth floor gets safely to her car.”
“Sure, Mark, are we expecting a problem?” Philip asked.
“No,” Mark said roughly, “but it’s late.”
He gave no other explanation, hung up the phone, and waited, knowing Philip would do what he requested.
His lips curled in a deep smile as he recalled the identifiable beep from the elevator. The sounds had echoed in the quietness of the offices. He’d been anticipating it and when it did, he’d jumped at the chance to yell out to Rane.
What if he’d been out there waiting for her?
Mark could imagine Rane’s surprised expression. Her hair would’ve been covering one eye and he would have been tempted to brush it aside for her.
Damn! What was he doing? Mooning over a woman? Yes, he was anxiously waiting for the return phone call from Philip.
What was wrong with him?
The
phone rang, and he jumped like a nervous Nellie.
“Hello,” he said as he hit the speaker button.
“Everything went fine.”
“Did she see you?” Mark asked.
“No. I mean, I don’t know. You didn’t tell me to sneak around,” Philip said.
“Well, damn it! You should’ve known.”
Mark paced around his office not sure why it mattered if Rane had seen Philip.
“She’s a real looker. Who is she?”
“Philip, mind your own business,” Mark said in a critical tone.
“Hey, man, it was just a question. No need to snap,” Philip paused, and then added, “Are you still working? Or did you want me to bring the car around to the front?”
Mark heard Philip’s chuckle, and said harshly, “Yes, bring it out front in about an hour and half. And call Ribbons to change our reservations. Agent Nelson’s flight has been delayed.”
“Yes, Mr. Christmenn.”
Mark heard Philip’s laughter before they’d hung up. He knew Philip was fishing for info and he wasn’t ready to rise to the bait.
He slipped off his suit coat and loosened his tie as he drifted into his private bathroom to freshen up. The rooms off his office could pass as an apartment, less a kitchen and dining room. More often than not, he used the bedroom here instead of going home. At times, it felt more like home then his house. I’m following in my father’s footsteps, he realized in disgust. Another thing in his life he was going to have to change.
Like father, like son, he kept a private residence off his office. It was common knowledge within the company that he used this private apartment most of the evenings when he was in town. Apparently, Ms. Schoen was unaware of his normal habit and needed to be informed. He’d have to tell Mrs. Weber to talk to her so there wasn’t a repeat of tonight’s episode.