“I like it.” I glance back at her and smile. Her brow relaxes. “Anything else I need to see?”
“Go to your tab and see if you’re comfortable with what I’ve done.”
I click on the tab bearing my name. “I didn’t think you did web design.”
“I don’t. I sent the images and the text to the designer and told him what we wanted.”
The page opens to a professional shot of me at my desk poring over a file. It’s taken from a distance, and the office is dim-lit. It has the feel of burning the midnight oil, and a short quote, Fighting for your case is at the top. It would feel ambulance chaser if it weren’t couched in such a classy, leather and brass, background.
“Very nice.” I glance up at her and smile. “You’re the best.”
She smiles and straightens, running her slim hands down the front of her dress. “Thanks.” Green-hazel eyes flicker to mine briefly before moving away again. “Well, that’s it, then. I’ll just take a few shots of the other guys and send them over, and I’m done.”
I stand and slowly walk around the desk so that I’m on the same side as her. I haven’t missed that she’s also taken a few steps backwards, to the door.
“I’ve been turning over the idea of adding a full-time marketing function ever since you joined us.” Stopping, I lean back on the edge of my massive desk facing her. Nothing is between us, but I’m not crowding. I see her ready to run.
“It wouldn’t make sense for a firm this size.”
“Are you trying to say we can’t afford you?” I smile, going for calming humor.
Her chin drops and a little smile crosses her lips. That’s better, beautiful.
“That wasn’t my initial thought.” Her shoulders relax slightly. “More, you just don’t need a nonstop marketing presence. It’s something for larger firms with busier schedules and more outreach.”
“What if I make you an offer you can’t refuse?”
She blinks up at me, and our eyes meet. Yes, I intended a double meaning.
Her jaw drops, but she doesn’t reply. Taking a chance, I straighten and close the space between us. “Amy.” My voice is low, but full of authority. “I want you to stay.”
“No you don’t. You just want...” She doesn’t finish that thought, so I do.
“You’re smart, and you’re top shelf at what you do.” Catching her forearm, I demand her attention. “You’re right to suspect I want more. But I think you do too.”
Pulling her arm back, she shakes her head, breaking our eye contact. “I can’t say that.”
I can’t help it. Her back is against the door, and every single touch we shared pulses between us, drawing me to her. Warm cinnamon floods my senses, and I want to taste her lips. Her beautiful lips that I devoured so many times this weekend.
“I’m thinking of boats and living on an island and flying.”
As I lean in, her entire body stiffens. A hissed inhale, and she jerks her face to the side, chin down.
Frustration burns hot in my chest at her immediate, seemingly involuntary response. Goddammit, Amy. For a half-second I consider taking her, claiming those lips, forcing her to say what she wants. Of course, I don’t.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to crowd.” I step back, and my eyes flicker over her beautiful body silently fighting me with everything she has.
“No. I’m sorry. I-I don’t mean to...” Her voice wavers, and I turn and go to my desk.
My back is to her, and I gentle my tone. “Nothing we said made an impression. Nothing changed.”
“It’s not that. It’s just...” I know she’s struggling, but now I’m pissed. “I don’t like being out of control.”
“Of course.” I face her, forcing my expression to remain placid. “You don’t do relationships, and I don’t chase.” My voice is flat. “We do fuck, however. Many times and very well. Shockingly well.”
Her eyes blink closed, and I see her struggle. It pleases me. I want her to fucking struggle. I want every bit of this ridiculous fight she’s holding onto to twist her heart painfully. The way it’s twisting mine.
“I just... I need more time.” Her voice is soft. “I’m sorry. It’s the best I can do.”