The outfit made him look boyish, but his expression was hard as volcanic glass. “Antonia. How the hell did you find me?”
Antonia preferred that hard tone. She’d heard it a hundred times, and could match it. “What the hell are you doing for two months while the rest of us are trying to keep It’s Handled afloat?” God, he should really button that shirt.
His gorgeous eyes narrowed. “The company is more than afloat. In fact, last time I checked, it’s practically floating in the clouds, we’re doing so well this quarter. Have you forgotten we raised our estimated IPO to $10 billion?”
You patronizing… “Just because it’s doing phenomenal doesn’t mean you can jump ship.”
“Newsflash: I can do whatever I want. I own the ship.”
Oh, it felt too good to hear his deep, sexy voice. The unprofessional in her wanted to run to him, hug him, tell him she missed him, missed his voice. That was how out-of-whack his absence had made her.
She crossed her arms and steeled her nerves. “As your VP of PR, it’s my job to make sure your reputation doesn’t get caught in the net of rumors and conjecture, putting the company in a shadow when it’s really starting to shine. Being gone for a couple weeks is fine. A month? Manageable. Two months with no immediate date of return? There are rumors you’re out here brainstorming something epic. People are starting to talk.”
“When you say people, to whom are you referring?”
“Clients,” she emphasized, her Spanish accent coming out. “Employees. Business associates. It’s a matter of time before the media gets wind of what’s going on, and starts printing theories about your absence.”
He shrugged, hands on hips. “Do your job and handle it. That’s not something I need to concern myself with.”
“I have been doing my job! Part of it is anticipating fires, and putting out the flickers before they turn into infernos.”
“You’re being a little dramatic, don’t you think?”
“Dramatic? Dramatic would’ve been here weeks ago. Panicking after a month. Taking ulcer medication after two. By the way, I took a week of vacation just so I could find you. I’m doing what you pay me for. If you want a passive PR executive, then fire me and hire someone else.” She inwardly gasped, disbelieving her blurt. Justin could easily retort, Okay, you’re fired, and walk away, leaving her unemployed and ashamed. Her mouth could get her in so many places, including in trouble.
Everyone and their cousin wanted to work at It’s Handled. Slack dress code. Health benefits. Free gym, free food, sleeping pods for afternoon naps…the benefit list went on. If she was smart—and she was—she’d do everything to keep her job. To keep working beside Justin.
Eyes forward, chica. Don’t look at the defined chest and rippled abs. No, no. You might be away from the office, but that doesn’t mean you can openly ache at the sight of your boss’s fantastic body.
He said nothing, continuing to hold her gaze, his expression blank. Usually she was good at reading people, but like a spotted leopard, Justin Faber was a rare breed. Growing up with four brothers, she thought she knew everything there was to know about reading men’s body language, tone, mannerisms…. But he was unlike any man she’d ever encountered.
That made him fascinating, to the point of obsessively fascinating. Which was probably why she was standing there in front of him, instead of forcing Chloe to put him on the phone.
Done with the drawn-out silence, she said, “You haven’t returned any of my calls or emails in weeks. Why are you being like this?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been busy.”
“Doing what?”
He made a gesture to the structure behind her. “Enjoying myself. What do you think?”
She turned around to stare at the house in all its glory. “I think you stole my idea.”
“I guess I did,” he said in an amused tone.
Must be nice to be wealthy beyond reason, able to purchase a unique glass house built on a lake. Her salary was generous, and the company perks were unheard of, but it would take her years of hardcore saving to afford something like this, let alone the land it sat on.
“How could you?” she whispered.
“Have I upset you?”
She jerked at his nearness. When had he snuck up behind her? She could feel his heat, smell his musk. Little awareness bumps raised on her skin.
“Upset? Pfft. I’m happy for you. I just…didn’t know you were listening. Or paying attention to my wistful little dream.” She’d often spoke of buying a glass house by some body of water whenever they went out for company socials.
“I’m always listening. I’m always paying attention. When it comes to you.”
When had his voice taken on a sensual quality? She’d never heard it before, in the office or otherwise. Was he flirting? Justin didn’t do that. Not with her. In fact, he was the opposite when they were alone. Short, terse, succinct. Though there were moments in meetings when they tended to finish each other’s sentences. She’d look at him, he’d look at her, and time kind of time stopped. She secretly lived for those moments.
Antonia slowly faced him. However, there was no teasing light in his eyes, twist in his lips, or any obvious sign he was flirting. It was all in her head. She kept her tone sharp. “When are you coming back?”
He took his time answering, searching her gaze. “Eventually.”
“That’s a vague answer.”
“That’s the only one you’re going to get.” He walked past her.
What the hell was going on with him?
She followed him up the steps. “Are you having an early mid-life crisis or something? You’re only thirty-five. Maybe it’s different for you because you’ve accomplished so much at a young age, but if you’re going through some existential crisis, I need to know.” Actually, she didn’t. She was his employee, not his therapist. But she’d do anything to get him out of his funk and back to where he belonged.
He stopped so abruptly, her face was almost introduced to his ass. “What if I was going through something? What would you do?”
“Are you going through something?” She looked up, trying to read him, but as usual, got Nowheres-ville.
Instead of answering, he resumed his climb.
She uttered a series of low curses in Spanish and forced her legs up the stairs. When she reached the top, her unlady-like swearing came to a stop.
“I don’t blame you for wanting to stay, but you can’t. You should be in Seattle.” What would he do if she just fell on his bed of white sheets and snuggled in for an hour?
He sauntered to the kitchen and pulled a pitcher of water from the fridge. “I don’t have to be physically present at the office to work. Besides, the place isn’t falling apart without me.”
“It shouldn’t have to fall apart in order for you to be there. Don’t you miss it?” Or, maybe even me?
He met her eyes briefly before pouring a glass of water. “Miss what?”
“Your company.”
“I’ve lived and breathed it for six years. I’m never that far from it. But I had to get away for a while.”
“Why?”
He raised the glass to his mouth, looking past her shoulder. “I don’t know.”
That was the second time he said that. Justin didn’t utter the phrase I don’t know. It was disconcerting because he always had an answer. He always knew. Maybe he was under some kind of pressure she wasn’t aware of. Maybe he was bored. Maybe this rumored new idea was sucking up all his energy.
A dog barked from somewhere in the house, and came jaunting from around the corner. She grinned at the adorable golden retriever. “Who’s this?”
“Fletch.”
She smiled. “Hi, Fletch.” She bent down, petted his head, and scratched under his chin.
Now that she couldn’t talk Justin out of staying, she didn’t know what to do. If he wouldn’t come to work, then she might as well bring work to him.
“Can I go over a few things with you befo
re I leave? I did drive six hours, almost hitting four different species of animal, and narrowly missing a rogue boulder on the way.”
“Damn, you’re incorrigible. If it’s absolutely necessary.”
She gritted her teeth. “It is.” She went to the car to grab her tablet, laptop, and purse. Even though he’d been short with her, she couldn’t help but smile.
Just like old times.
Justin watched the woman of his fantasies from the window.
His heart hammered, his hand tightened to a fist. How dare she come out here and disrupt his peace?
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew she would. He couldn’t explain it, but he had an inkling if he stayed away, Antonia Ruiz would eventually hunt him down, especially since he’d been ignoring her for too long.
That was intentional. He’d been attempting to purge the lustful ache, clear his mind, and become whole again with self-discipline and isolation. He knew if he heard her voice or even responded to her emails, he’d be back at ground zero.
So he’d been cruel and dismissive, cutting off communication with her until he felt ready.
Well. The past two months had been an effort in goddamn futility. His reaction to her arrival proved he’d been in denial the entire time. The second he laid eyes on her, the suppressed feelings revived like a violent volcano, gushing, fiery, and melting any inner strength he’d had carefully built.
Damn her.
He strode to the wireless router and disabled it. She had to leave. He didn’t trust himself not to blurt out how he felt. He didn’t want her to know how much he missed her, how dependent he’d become on seeing her smile to remind himself life was good. He couldn’t let her know how much he fed off her enchanting, unspoiled energy to get through a hard day, even when they argued.
Before she came along, he didn’t need anything in his life except his company, his friends, his coffee bar, favorite bike trails, and the occasional one-night-stand.
Then Drew, his IT guru, told him he needed to hire a public relations pro, and brought Antonia in for an interview. Quite frankly, he’d pictured…someone else.
She was vivacious, intelligent, articulate, and witty. Something told him to hire her, and it’d been one of the best decisions he’d ever made. The office became a lot more colorful with her in it, swearing in Spanish and donning her colorful blouses. She had to be the best-kept secret in the city, and he’d been shocked no one had scooped her up with her credentials, a Gonzaga grad who’d interned at one of the most respected PR firms. Not to mention, she was a stunner. All that long, dark hair, caramel-tinted skin, and those healthy curves, particularly an ass that had him—at many frustrating times—inwardly groaning, his cock twitching to brush between those plump cheeks.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Fuck.” Five minutes ago he wanted her to leave, and yet…since she was there, and they were alone, he couldn’t help but think this was what he’d needed all along.
Her with him. No more of this solo crap.
No one else hovering around them. No office etiquette between them. If there was ever going to be a perfect time to explore their chemistry, and discover if what he felt was real, or if it was plain physical attraction, then he’d never get a better opportunity.
He leaned his forearm on the glass. Telling her could derail everything. If she didn’t want him…if he exposed his desire and feelings only to have them rejected, then he’d be humiliated, and he’d lose her.
Everyone at the company would lose. She’d go work for someone else and make another man’s day brighter, someone else’s company better.
Part of him would be grateful, because then the suffering would end.
Was it worth the risk? The attraction was mutual. He could see it. Passionate woman that she was, she couldn’t help but show it at times. Everything was in the eyes, and her sexy browns told him the yearning wasn’t one-sided.
With a frustrated growl, he turned from the window, shoving his hands in his pockets. A few years ago, he would’ve mocked a man with a similar problem. How cliché: the boss panting after the sassy, bewitching VP. Willing to fuck up a successful professional relationship for the slim chance at a successful personal one.
But he’d tried to fight it. Honestly, he did. No matter how clever or logical he was, he was just a man, and every man had his weaknesses. Antonia happened to be a notable one of his.
Like so many other times in his life, he was going to set logic aside, and go for it. Give in for once, instead of resisting forever.
Running a hand through his hair, he frowned. He couldn’t seduce her like this, covered in dirt, sweat, with greasy hair. He needed a shower before he spoke one more word to her.
A half-smile tugged his mouth, the first in a long time since he’d been out there.
It felt good, and just a little bad.
Justin wasn’t anywhere in sight when she returned and placed her belongings on the dining table. Then she heard water running and saw the bathroom door ajar.
She gasped, eyes wide. Her boss was showering just steps away, soap and water sluicing along his plank-hard stomach and butt, down those muscled legs.
She plopped down in a chair and squeezed her eyes shut, blindly typing in her username and password for the laptop. Was her lack of a sex life the cause for this constant fantasizing about one man?
Sex was awesome, but it wasn’t vital to her like it was for some of her single friends. Ever since she’d started working with Justin however, the very thought of it had become oxygen. She’d been experiencing unprecedented sexual cravings.
Six months prior, her friends had talked her into participating in a bar crawl, and she’d met a charming, sexy Chris Hemsworth lookalike. Many empty bottled beers between them later, one thing led to another and they ended up at his place, where he rocked her world. Or, at least she’d moaned like he had, because the only man she thought about was Justin.
His mouth searing along her skin. His tongue leisurely licking her pussy. His cock stroking in and out of her body. She’d been having sex with a good-looking guy with stellar skills in bed, and yet all she could think about was doing her boss, wishing it was his hands squeezing her ass, his voice choking out her name as she rode him vigorously.
“Antonia.”
She shot her gaze to Justin’s. Her cheeks flamed with guilty heat. “What?”
“I asked if you wanted anything to drink.”
An ice cold bucket of water would do. She cleared her throat. “Juice if you have it.”
He opened the fridge door. His hair was damp and run-through, and instead of the rags he’d donned earlier, he wore jeans and a light blue V-neck. Hmm. She sort of preferred the rags in a weird way, but damn, he looked good. Especially with the beard. It made him even more masculine, and with his new tan, he looked like a rugged, nature god—
“How about lemonade? Bought it fresh from a neighbor kid down the road,” he said.
She cleared her thoughts and focused on her laptop screen. “You have neighbors? How far are they?”
“A mile down. And on the north side of the lake.”
God. They were so isolated it wasn’t even funny. Normally she’d love it, but being secluded with Justin seemed to make her world smaller and harder to breathe. “What’s your Wi-Fi password?”
“It’s on a sticky-note underneath the mouse pad.”
“Not exactly a prime hiding place, Mr. Faber.”
He shrugged. “I’m hiding enough as it is.”
When she typed it in, a message popped up that there was no signal. She tried again. Still didn’t work. She restarted her Mac and got the same results. “I can’t get online. It says there’s no internet access.”
“That’s weird. Let me check the router.”
He squatted behind the desk in the corner and assessed the equipment. “Something’s wrong. It’s not showing a signal. I’ll restart it.” Five minutes later, and it seemed technology had failed them. “Sorry. Looks like we won’t
be doing any work.”
She held back a frustrated groan. “Justin! You’re a man who made millions on the latest workstations for the nomadic professional. How can you not have the best reliable network here?”
“We’re in the middle of nowhere. What do you want me to do? Move satellites with my mind?”
Ugh. She was so fed up. “So I came out here for nothing? I can’t convince you to come back to Seattle, and I can’t get any work done while I’m here. Just great.” She yanked the power cord from the outlet, wrapped it up, and turned off the laptop and tablet.
Justin took a sip of water, his eyes narrowing. “I didn’t ask you to come out here.”
“Well, you can rejoice now, because I’m leaving.”
“Fine.” He set down the glass on the desk with force. “Take your attitude with you. I don’t need it and I definitely don’t need you.”
That stung more than a slap to the face. She wanted to get out without looking back. She slipped on her jacket, gathered her belongings, and charged to the front door. “By the way,” she said, turning the knob. “I quit.”
Years back, when she was an impulsive teenager, every time she did something stupid, her grandmother’s words of outrage would sound off in her head. Idiota! You never think before you speak! You spit on the Lord’s blessings.
Her grandmother would be right this time, but she had too much pride to turn around.
“Antonia!” Justin angrily shouted behind her, but she kept going.
Too emotional to confront him, she yanked the rear passenger door and threw her stuff in the backseat.
“Antonia.”
He jogged down the steps and marched toward her. Just when she opened the driver side, he slammed it shut before she could get in. “You can’t quit, damn it.”
“I can and I did.” Part of her celebrated the fact he’d come out here, furious with her decision.