Heated

Damn.

I hurried back to the desk, and had just started to search for the key or something to pick the lock with when I heard the doorknob rattle.

I glanced at the clock—not even five minutes had passed—then shoved the desk drawer shut and ran around the desk, moving on my tip toes so that my heels wouldn’t click on the wooden floor. I heard the rattle of a key, then saw the deadbolt turn. The door started to move inward just as I leaped onto the desk, leaning back a bit to accentuate my breasts and then plastering on a smile that I hoped would convince the bartender I’d come here only to get down and dirty with Tyler.

Except it wasn’t the bartender.

It was Tyler himself.

“Well,” he said, stepping into the office, then locking the door behind him. “Isn’t this interesting?”

I crossed my legs, trying to ignore the cold wash of panic that had settled over me.

I reminded myself to be calm. That this scenario was covered by one of my contingency plans. But plans never felt quite the same in reality, and I was having to work hard to control my breathing.

“You pissed me off,” I said, with a husky edge to my voice. “I thought I’d come here and try to change your mind.”

“Did you?”

I cocked my head. “Greg called you, didn’t he? Told you I was here.”

“No.”

“No,” I repeated thoughtfully. Greg may have called, but that wasn’t why Tyler was at Destiny. No way he could have made the drive in barely five minutes. “No,” I said again. “You followed me.”

He took two steps closer, and my pulse increased exponentially. “I told you, Sloane,” he said. “I intend to find out what you want. Why you came after me. Why you told me that you want to play.”

“I told you that already,” I said. “Is it so hard to believe that I want you? That you pissed me off? And so I came here to make sure I would have you?”

He smiled easily. “As stories go, it has some heart. But I’m not buying it.” There were only a few feet between us now, and he closed the distance easily until he was standing right in front of where I sat on the edge of his desk. He reached out and uncrossed my legs, then gently spread them.

He stepped between my knees, then cupped the back of my head, easing me toward him even as he leaned in and kissed me hard, biting my lower lip before pulling away.

“Try again,” he said. His voice was light, but he was watching me intently, and I used the short span of time before I answered to remind myself that Tyler Sharp was a brilliant man who hadn’t gotten where he was—in either legitimate or illegitimate enterprises—by being foolish or blind or reckless. On the contrary, he was clever and careful and ruthless. And that meant that I had to be even more so.

“Did you know I applied at Destiny?” I asked him. “Got turned down flat.”

“Did you?”

“I thought it was strange, because I’ve done waitressing before.”

“There’s not a lot of turnover at Destiny,” he said. “Our employees are very loyal. But I’m beginning to understand.” He eased my dress up until his fingers found bare thigh.

I shivered, his touch making me feel a little drunk.

And then he slowly, so slowly, slid his fingers toward my sex.

“What were you planning, Ms. O’Dell?” he murmured as his fingers found the edge of my panties. He slipped under, and I drew in a sharp breath, then released a groan of pure, sensual pleasure. “Were you hoping to use your feminine wiles to convince me to give you a job?”

“I—yes—oh, god, Tyler.” I placed my hands behind me on the desk as I arched my back, glorying in the delight of his touch.

“I do like your feminine wiles,” he said as he slid two fingers deep inside me, then withdrew them slowly.

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