by Katie Fox
Everything about Owen Caldwell was mesmerizing. His eyes glimmered like dark-green emeralds under the bright fluorescent light, and those full, sensual lips of his were sinfully seductive, drawing my attention to them over and over again. Broad shoulders gave way to a strong solid frame, a well-defined chest, and narrow waist that—for a few brief seconds—I shamelessly imagined my legs wrapped around.
Oh, Elle. Get a grip on yourself. He's your boss, for crying out loud. And regardless of whatever this is, he's still a jerk.
Unable to drag my eyes away, I continued to chew on my bottom lip. I rested my head against the wall and sighed, not liking this strange effect he seemed to be having on me. I tried to remind myself of the way he had humiliated me in front of our colleagues, but to no avail; his magnetic pull was impossible to ignore. Something about his raw masculinity was devastatingly beautiful.
Shrugging on his coat and fixing the collar, Owen stopped at the register to pay his bill before giving a final wave to Rosie and disappearing out the door.
Once I made sure he had completely left the building, I peeled myself away from the wall and walked tentatively over to where their plates rested on the counter, ignoring the growls of my stomach and my own plate of food that was now cold and still waiting for my return.
My hands smoothed across the counter as I plopped down on one of the empty barstools. “Does he come in here often?”
Rosie glanced over at me, confusion denting her brow. “Who, dear?”
I lifted my chin toward the front window where we both watched Owen hand the man two barely crinkled one-hundred-dollar bills.
Realization swept over her middle-aged features as her gaze sprung back to mine. “Are you referring to Owen?”
Pressing my lips firmly together, I gave her a small nod, still not believing everything I’d witnessed. This Owen was different. He was kind and caring, not heartless and demanding. “Yes.”
She smiled in a similar way a mother would when talking about her beloved son. “Every Tuesday. He’s a volunteer at the homeless shelter where we donate the pies. He usually brings one of the residents in and treats them to a full meal before giving them some cash and sending them off with a dash of hope. He’s a great guy, one of the most selfless people I have ever met.” Cleaning up the plates and tossing the washcloth in the bucket behind her, she walked over to where I was sitting and leaned forward, resting her arms on the counter. “Why? Do you know him?”
Did I know him? I almost laughed at the irony, the impossible coincidence of it all.
“Yeah.” A dryness invaded my throat, and I swallowed in search of relief. “He’s the jerk I was telling you about.”
“WHAT DO YOU mean we’re waiting for approval on the final design?”
Irritation tightened the muscles in my jaw as I clenched down on my back teeth. We had a deadline approaching, a manuscript ready for print, and a goddamn design that had yet to be approved. What the hell was going on in this place? And why did it seem as if I was suddenly surrounded by a sea of idiots?
“Just bring me the mock-ups, Lawson. I’ll approve them my damn self.”
Slamming the phone down on the receiver, I dropped my head in my hands. Today was going to be a long day. I knew it. My skull pounded profusely, and I closed my eyes, blindly reaching into my desk drawer and fishing out the prescribed cocktail of drugs that offered little relief as far as my migraines were concerned. Over the last two months, they had increased in terms of their length and intensity. Bearable to debilitating was what they had become.
As I fumbled to get the safety caps removed from the orange bottles, the sound of my door creaked open, and not having an ounce of patience to deal with whatever or whomever was bringing their problems to my office, I swung my head in their direction, ready to tell them to get the hell out. I didn’t want to deal with it. “What now?”
My chin lifted.
My heart flipped over in my chest.
Elle stood with her fingers wrapped around a cardboard drink carrier and a nervous smile on her pink lips, and all my thoughts disintegrated.
“Morning.” She pushed the door closed with her strappy black heel and lifted her arms, nodding down at the two styrofoam cups in her hands. Steam billowed from their lids, and the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee grew stronger as she walked in my direction. “I stopped to get coffee on the way. The stuff in the cafeteria is…well, it kind of sucks. I’m not sure how you make it through the day drinking that crap.” A soft, feminine chuckle erupted from her throat sounding like a soothing melody to my ears, and as she came to a stop in front of me, she twisted one of the cups free and placed it on my desk. “Three creams and two sugars, right?”
Confusion pulled at my brows. I glanced at the coffee and then at her face. How the hell did she know that? Yesterday when she had filled my mug during the meeting, it remained black, unmixed and untouched. I supposed Millie could have told her...
I opened my mouth but no words came out, and I tried to figure out if it was a result of her kind offering or her impossible beauty.
Perhaps it was a mixture of both.
Taking ahold of the cup, I brought it to my lips and sipped slowly. “It’s perfect. Thank you.” As the hot liquid coated my throat, I briefly wondered if she had an ulterior motive. For all I knew, she could’ve slipped me some laxative and I’d be spending my afternoon getting comfortable on the porcelain throne. God, I hoped not. Can’t say I’d fully blame her if she did, though. I’d been a downright dickhead to her, and I probably more than deserved it.
“You’re welcome.” She gifted me another smile, this one entirely genuine and breathtakingly beautiful, and then pivoted on her three-inch heels, making her way over to her desk. How the hell women wore those things was beyond me. I couldn't imagine they were easy to walk in, much less comfortable, but damn, if they didn’t make her stand a little taller. Not only physically, but in terms of her confidence, and that alone made my blood pump faster.
Setting my drink down, I swallowed hard as I watched the way her skirt hugged her hips and brushed against her slender thighs with her gait. “I thought you weren’t here to fetch coffee.”
Those baby blues caught my gaze as she glanced over her shoulder, and the glimmer dancing along their surface caused my breath to hitch.
“I’m not.”
As quickly as she looked at me, she looked away, yet I continued to stare at her, marveled by the way she carried herself. The way she'd reach up and tuck a blonde tendril behind her ear or the way her nose would scrunch and her mouth would twist to one side when she was deep in concentration. She was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. Yesterday had been a challenge in terms of keeping my eyes off her, and so far, today proved to be much the same.
Reaching for the stack of open-submission query letters Millie delivered that morning, I grabbed half the pile and walked over to where Elle was sitting. I set them down in front of her. “Same as yesterday. Notes in the margins. Your thoughts and opinions.”
Her lips lifted at my words, a look of excitement soaring across her face. “Okay.”
I went to turn around and then stopped. My hand rested on my hip, while the other stroked a path up my jaw and through my hair. “The Bower manuscript.”
“Yes. What about it?”
“I was shocked to see you think we should take a chance on it.”
“Oh. You were?” She frowned, staring at me with curiosity. “Why is that?”
“It's completely different from anything we’ve published before. I'm not even sure we have an appropriate demographic to begin marketing it. It's a risk. A huge risk.”
“I see.” Disappointment creased her features, and I felt the effects of it deep in my chest.
Her notes and remarks scribbled all over the pages of that particular manuscript spoke volumes on how strongly she felt about the story. She believed in it. And I wanted to believe in it too…for her. But I’d been a player in this game for a long time, and I knew the m
arket’s strengths and weaknesses, even if they were forever changing. I knew failure when it stared me in the eye.
Elle didn't say anything else as I returned to my desk and sat down in my chair, nor as I logged onto my computer and pulled up my hundreds of unread emails. It wasn't until I was in the middle of responding to one of somewhat importance that she decided to speak.
“Owen?”
“Hmm?” I didn't look at her. My eyes remained glued to my monitor as my fingers continued to tap along the keys.
“What’s life without taking risks? I mean, how do we know if something is worth it if we don't at least give it a try? Sure, we might lose our initial investment, but what we don't gain in revenue, we gain in knowledge and experience, right?”
Her words gave me pause. Perhaps I had underestimated how much of an influence she had over me because the passion in her voice alone could have swayed my decision. Present me with her logic, and I was a goner. I chanced a glance at her and how big of a mistake that was. A jolt of something I couldn’t define ricocheted through me. It lasted all but a moment as the sound of Lawson barging into my office unannounced drew our attention to him.
“Just as you asked. I have all four mock-ups…” His voice trailed as his eyes homed in on Elle, assessing her as if she was his next meal and he wasn’t sure which part of her to devour first.
She flashed him a tight smile, and a pang that felt much like jealousy stabbed at my chest.
Jesus. Pull your shit together, Owen.
I reached up with my hand to rub the ache away and cleared my throat. “Thank you. Set them on my desk. I’ll have a decision for you within the hour.”
“Well, seeing as I can’t do anything else until this baby is uploaded and sent off to the printers, I think I’ll hang out for a while.” Slapping the designs down, he dropped himself on one of my leather chairs and proceeded to stretch his legs out, slinging an arm behind his head. His gaze remained on Elle, briefly flicking to mine as he cast me a brazen smirk. “Just until you’ve made your decision.”
The fuck he was.
I glared at him. “Get out of my office, Lawson. I have a phone call in ten minutes.”
“It’s cool. I know how to keep my mouth shut.”
The muscle along my jaw ticked, and I gritted my teeth.
Now he was pissing me off.
Gathering up the designs, I shot up from my chair and strode over to my office door, my hand gripping the knob and the skin on my knuckles turning ghostly white as I held it open. “What part of “Get out of my office, I have a phone call in ten minutes” did you not understand?”
“Woah. Relax, Caldwell.” Straightening himself and pushing to his feet, he strolled lazily toward me, a smug grin on his face. “Why don’t you join us tonight at McGrady’s? A beer or two might loosen you up a bit.” As his foot hit the threshold of the door, he stopped, turning back to look at Elle. “You, too, Elle. A bunch of us are going out. Would be nice to get better acquainted.”
I let out a sarcastic laugh that earned me a side-eye from Lawson and a curious glance from Elle. Better acquainted, my ass. He should’ve just told her he wanted in her pants, at least then he’d have one redeeming quality: integrity.
Elbows resting on the desk, Elle cradled her face in her hands and smiled. “Thank you, Kyle. I’ll think about it.”
Kyle? Since when were they on a first-name basis? Another pang of unwarranted jealousy stung my chest, and I inhaled deeply, my patience wearing thin as Lawson continued to stand there, fixated.
I cleared my throat. “Phone call. Eight minutes.”
His large hand came up to smack my breast bone, and with a chuckle, he disappeared out the door. I pushed it shut behind him and then walked back to my desk, laying the mock-ups out so they could be easily seen.
“Elle.” I cocked my head to the side, gesturing her to come over to me. “I want you to take a look at these.”
She rose without hesitation, and rather than walking to the front of my desk, she sidled right up beside me. The left side of her body pressed against mine, her softness and the sweet smell of her skin reminding me how long it had been since I was close to a woman—since I’d felt one beneath me—and a twinge of lust flickered in my groin.
Sex, relationships, emotions—they had no place in my life.
Not now. Not anymore.
As Elle leaned in closer to inspect the images, her blonde hair fell like a curtain around her. Her chest brushed against my arm, and my dick twitched in response, causing me to pull in a sharp and sudden inhale.
I closed my eyes.
Desire spiked, and I balled my hands into fists, trying to fight against the sensation. It was no use. Drawn by an invincible force, I continued to stare at her, the delicate curve of her jaw, the soft fullness of her lips, and the red tip of her tongue as it darted out of her mouth in a leisurely roll that drove my mind fucking wild.
“Okay. I'm looking at them.”
Her voice broke through the heat of tension, and my attention snapped back to the designs. I swallowed, attempting to regain my bearings. “What do you think? As a reader, which would you choose?”
“Well, it depends. What's the genre?”
“Romantic suspense.”
She leaned down again, inspecting the designs one more time and giving them a quick once-over before reaching to pick the second one up. Another waft of her perfume hit my nose.
Goddamn, she smells incredible.
“This one.” Turning around, she rested against my desk, hugging her one arm over her stomach while handing me the mock-up.
I took it from her, the corners of my eyes crinkling. “Why?”
“It's darker than the rest. Sort of mysterious. The man’s face is turned which gives little away about him. It's almost as if he's hiding something, and this design makes me want to pick up the book and discover what that might be.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah.”
Elle held my gaze, a curiousness behind her own, and for a moment, I had almost forgotten what we were talking about. I suddenly felt like the man in the stock photo: bare and exposed, on show for her scrutiny. She stared at me as if I were another mysterious book she was determined to read, but that wasn’t what made it unnerving. It was the fact that I wanted her to. I selfishly wanted her to open my book’s cover and read through the pages of my life—help me figure out where I’d gone so terribly wrong and what I could possibly do to make the most out of the life I had left.
How ridiculous was that?
Blinking, Elle dragged me from my daze, those thick, full lashes of hers sweeping up and bringing me back to the moment. I gave her an appreciative nod and reached for my phone. “Thank you. I'll call Lawson and let him know that's the one.”
A look of surprise danced across her face, and her voice now lacked the confidence it had delivered. “Wait. Are you sure? You're not going to run it by anyone else?”
“No. I trust your opinion. Why? Do you not trust your own?”
“No, it's just—”
I picked up the phone and pressed number four, the direct dial for Lawson’s office, my eyes remaining on hers the entire time. “Design LK623. Let me know once everything is submitted on your end.”
An “okay” later and the line disconnected.
Elle resisted a smile, and I resisted the urge to reach out and pull her to my lap.
“This call you have in five minutes. I can leave—”
“No. Stay. There's no call. I just wanted him out of my office.”
“Oh.” Pushing away from my desk, she walked back to her own and immediately returned to her work.
I forced my gaze from her, finding it difficult to concentrate on anything but the way she made me feel. And it was then I realized she was here for a reason.
Elle Callihan was going to give my life meaning. Fate, or whoever it was that controlled the universe, deliberately put her in my path, teasing me with temptation and something more I coul
d never have.
“Owen?”
The soft voice and warm touch of a gentle hand on my shoulder slowly pulled me out of my sleep.
Shit. I had fallen asleep?
Blinking away the haze of slumber, I sat up, exhaustion thick and heavy in every one of my muscles. I glanced around my quiet office, squinting as the late afternoon sunshine poured in through the wall of windows, and then over to my monitor, which had fallen into standby mode. “What time is it? How long have I been out?” I rubbed at my eyes, still blurry from sleep.
Elle stood with her briefcase in her hand and her cardigan draped over her forearm. “Um…well, you were asleep when I returned from lunch, and it's now five o'clock. I didn't know whether or not to wake you. I had asked Millie, but she told me to leave you be.”
“Of course, she did.” Sighing in frustration, I dropped my forehead to my palm and shook my head. Another day wasted. Another five hours of my life I'd never get back. My tired gaze drifted over the stacks of papers sitting neatly on the corner of my desk. “Did you get the rest of the query letters done?”
“They’re all finished.”
“Great. Thank you.”
She nodded as a yawn forced itself out of my mouth, and a yawn of her own followed. Guess they were contagious. I dropped my head back against my chair, scrubbing my hands down my face, embarrassed that I’d been asleep in her presence and irritated that I’d allowed the entire afternoon to slip away from me. “It's getting late. You should get out of here.”
“I'm going. Same time tomorrow?”
“Yeah, and every day this week if you feel like sticking around.”
She flashed me a small but teasing smile. “Guess I'll see how I'm feeling in the morning then.”
Her answer almost caused me to laugh, but the sight of her turning and walking away instantly dampened my mood. What was it about this woman that had me craving her company? She was like a breath of fresh air in a room filled with smoke—a room I’d been locked in for the last two months, slowly suffocating, with no means of escaping.