What Maxi Needs (Leave Your Shoes On 3)

It wasn’t as though he was the first gorgeous man she’d ever conversed with. Still…there was something about him that was very different from the males she typically associated with. And she found herself taking a couple of steps toward him.

“For the record,” he continued in a congenial tone, obviously not realizing he’d walked into a minefield—or that he’d instantly ignited her nerve endings, “this isn’t the easiest building to navigate.”

Sucking in a sliver of air, she informed him, “This is A. The largest of the Operations conference rooms.”

“Fantastic. That confirms I’m in the right place.” He thrust a hand toward her. “Dr. Ryan Donovan. That’s PhD, not MD, so please don’t ask me to diagnose any sort of personal ailment.” He chuckled softly at his own joke. A deep, evocative rumble that resonated within Maxi.

Shot straight to her core, to be exact.

“Duly noted,” she said, gravitating toward him. Her palm slid across Dr. Ryan Donovan’s. His skin was warm and smooth. No calluses, unlike Kev, who might as well have been a lumberjack for all the rough patches he’d never bothered to buff away. Even after he’d snagged her expensive thigh-high stockings.

Not that Einstein’s neatly trimmed nails and refreshingly supple skin mattered. Why on Earth would she even think of such a thing?

“Although,” the PhD added in his incredibly arousing tone, “I am here to help provide a cure for what ails Staci Kay Shoes.” He smirked devilishly, as though pleased with his play on words. “And you are…?” he politely demanded.

He was a bit infuriating in a really titillating way.

Name, silly. Provide a name!

“Maxi Shayne.” She gave a solid hand-pump that seemed to take him aback—as though he wasn’t expecting the assertive gesture from a woman. Or at least, not one of her lithe build and breathy tone. “Vice President of Operations.”

“Oh, I see.” His gaze didn’t waver, his eyes locking with hers. Making her stomach flutter. Not the proper sensation to be experiencing at work! “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Shayne. Congratulations on your promotion. I’ve just recently learned of it.” He slowly pulled his hand from hers, as though reluctant to do so, and pushed his glasses a quarter of an inch up his nose.

Very Clark Kent just met Lois Lane at the Daily Planet.

Maxi focused on hi

s glasses, because they personified his clearly studious, if not somewhat nerdy, disposition. Safer to focus on than his intriguing presence.

Rugged looks but soft, warm skin and manicured nails? All very contradictory. Which, of course, enthralled her. When it really shouldn’t have.

Maxi couldn’t afford to get sidetracked. Especially not by the way Einstein towered over her, and his very manly scent—sandalwood and heat—infiltrated her senses. Not to mention all that thick, lustrous hair, which suddenly had her fingers itching to comb through it, to muss the slightly wavy strands.

Her inner thighs flamed and quivered, making her a bit unsteady in her skyscraping heels.

She cleared her throat. Continued to clear away wicked thoughts. Or tried to, at any rate. And prayed like crazy that he didn’t notice the tremors running rampant through her.

Come on, Maxi.

Get it together!

“I wasn’t expecting a guest,” she said. “Are you sure you’re in the right room?”

“Absolutely. Ms. Kay signed the New Employee paperwork and had it couriered to Human Resources earlier, since she’s offsite today. I just wrapped up my end of the legalities and became your Director of Operations as of, oh”—he tore his gaze from hers, again seemingly disinclined to do so, and consulted his watch—“twelve minutes and thirty-two seconds ago.”

Her brow jerked up once more. A what the hell are you talking about? question died on her lips as Avril whipped out her company-issued smartphone and then nodded.

“Yep,” she provided affirmation. “HR just forwarded all the documents to you, Maxi, via e-mail and copied me. It’s official.”

Maxi’s gaze snapped back to Dr. Donovan. “But I never even interviewed you,” she contended.

“Sorry about that. Ms. Kay has been courting me—for strictly professional purposes—the past few months. My last consulting assignment recently concluded, so with the production crisis happening here, I’m more than ready to step into a permanent role to help you shore the defenses, as it were.”

Maxi’s mind reeled. She wasn’t quite sure what was putting her in a daze. The fact that Staci had hired a director and that she, Maxi, knew nothing about it, including his attendance at this critical meeting—or said director’s soul-stirring voice.

Not that she should have been so shocked about the former sentiment. Staci had already indicated that she had something in the works for the vacated post, and they hadn’t yet had a chance to discuss the candidate. Or work through a new direction for the division, since Staci was currently knee-deep in contingency planning. And for God’s sake, Maxi had only been VP since Friday. Three whole days. That was all.

Adding to her dilemma was the way her thoughts were getting so easily derailed by the incongruous PhD, his mesmeric, dominant features not the least bit eclipsed by his stuffy air, no matter how perfectly he projected his well-educated, cultured side. And again, that low, intimate tone and spine-tingling accent that made her clit tingle and her pussy throb.