When Staci Takes Charge (Leave Your Shoes On 2)

“‘Staci’ is fine.” She shot Evan a look. “Or you could call me ‘Liz.’ It’s sort of a nickname.”

He glared at her. She snickered.

Staci said to the assistant, “For the record, I didn’t stage any sort of riot or an accident. Took a spill on a wet floor that wasn’t marked.”

“Oh, dear,” Tanya said as she rushed over to the minifridge and pulled out a bottle of water as Evan carefully carried Staci inside his office and set her on the sofa. Tanya handed over the bottle.

“Thanks.” Staci smiled. To Evan, she said, “And thank you for not dropping me. My ass is still smarting.”

Evan bit back a groan. The last thing he needed her drawing his attention to was her ass. He knew exactly how it felt in his hands as he slid into her heat and wetness.

r /> The scent of her hair, like fresh lilacs in the spring, held him spellbound, and that was all wrong. The smell of her skin was a complementary vanilla. The exact scent from the Four Seasons.

The feel of her shapely body cradled against his was now burned into him, but it couldn’t compete with knowing how she felt naked and writhing beneath him. The tantalizing sensations of her fingers and lips teasing his skin. Her hand fisting his cock and pumping slowly…

Shit.

There he went again. Getting caught up in thoughts of her, drowning in lust the way he had that night.

Evan had to put some space between them while he got his bearings. He went to his desk and grabbed his medical bag. He said to Tanya, “Please let Dr. Morrow know I’ll be late to our meeting.”

“Of course.” The assistant left the room, closing the door behind her.

Evan fought the sense of foreboding encroaching on him. For one thing, Morrow would have a field day over Evan missing a staff meeting. One which Evan was to lead as head of the department. Morrow would fill in for him—and would no doubt mention the fiery redhead stalking Evan.

He could take the ribbing, no worries there.

Except that—point number two—said fiery redhead turned Evan on way too much.

She asked, “So why are you pretending you don’t recognize me from the hotel hallway?”

His brow jerked up. “The hallway?”

“Fine. Naked in your hotel suite. How’s that?”

He raked a hand through his hair.

“That is where we first met, yes?” she challenged.

Evan let out a low growl. “That’s not something I want to think about or discuss.” Especially not in his office, his professional workspace.

“Why are you so annoyed with me?” she suddenly demanded. “You sure as hell weren’t like this at the Four Seasons.”

“That night was…different for me.”

“How? Why? I’m dying to know.” Her gaze narrowed. “Are you bipolar? Because I could probably work with that as opposed to this recent animosity.”

Evan’s teeth ground. “I am not bipolar.”

“Then what’s with all the hot and cold?”

He fought the grimace. Point-blank told her, “I’m finding it incredibly irritating that I let my dick and whatever I was feeling for you that evening override my sensibility.”

She glared, all signs of flippancy flying out the window. “That’s a shitty-ass thing to say.”

“You knew who I was. You staged the whole damn thing. Locked yourself out of your room, tugged on my heartstrings with your I’m-all-alone-with-no-one-to-admire-me-in-my-sexy-nightie, and then seduced me. Jesus. I can’t fucking believe I fell for that!”

She gaped. Clearly shocked.