The Love Game

He’d thought having her nearby would dim her appeal. He’d been wrong. More than two weeks had passed since she’d moved into the small conference room down the hall and around the corner from his office. During that time, his attraction to her had only strengthened. He was going out of his mind.

Tyler’s stomach growled. Loudly. According to the time displayed in the lower corner of his computer monitor, he’d been woolgathering for almost five minutes. No, not woolgathering. Iris had consumed his thoughts again. He frowned at the minifridge in the far corner of his office. He’d packed a perfectly decent sandwich and container of soup but they didn’t interest him.

What was Iris doing for lunch? She had a habit of eating at her desk, too. He’d see her using the microwave in the office kitchenette. Tyler tapped his keyboard to lock his computer, then pushed himself to his feet. He had an urge to find Iris. This time, he wouldn’t fight it.

He left his office, closing the door so the automatic lock triggered. He strode down the hall to the small conference room and found its door locked. Tyler knocked to get Iris’s attention. She rose from her seat.

Iris pulled open the door. “Hello, Ty.”

Her dark purple business dress skimmed her neat, slender curves, stopping just above her knees. The color made her honey features seem even warmer. Her matching three-inch stilettos caused his brain to stutter. How many shoes does she own?

Tyler looked into her cool coffee eyes. She still hadn’t forgiven him. “You can prop open the door.”

“I suppose I could.” Iris stepped back.

Tyler dropped to his left knee. He reached for the wedge of oak wood to push it beneath the door just as Iris extended her leg to tap the wood into place. He caught hold of her ankle. Tyler’s arm shook as though he’d been jolted with electricity. The warmth of her skin filled the palm of his hand. His gaze followed the length of her long, well-curved calf to her knee. His hand itched to trace the shapely muscle. Dazed, he looked up, still on one knee. Iris’s beautiful eyes were clouded. She tugged her leg from his hand. Embarrassed, Tyler let her go.

“Is this the part where you ask me to try on a glass slipper?” Her teasing smile trembled around the edges.

Tyler shoved the wedge under the door, then rose to his feet. He drew in a breath, capturing the scent of citrus and vanilla. Iris’s scent. “Am I your Prince Charming?”

* * *

Iris’s thoughts scattered to the four winds. Had Tyler Anderson just turned the tables on her? She’d expected him to respond to her comment with a blank stare. Instead he’d issued his own challenge. She’d underestimated him—and the effect of his smooth baritone on her senses. Not to mention the feel of his hand on her leg.

“Our meeting isn’t until later this afternoon.” Iris retreated to her desk. Her ankle was still warm from his touch. “I haven’t crunched the estimates from all of the vendors yet.”

“How’s it looking so far?”

Iris stopped beside her chair. She dragged her gaze from Tyler to the papers strewn across the glass-topped table. “So far, it’s even better than I’d hoped.”

“Is there anything you can tell me now?” Tyler took a step toward the table. Then another. His movements were like a panther stalking his prey. Iris was mesmerized.

What were they talking about again? The budget; that’s right. “I can only speak in generalities. When we meet later this afternoon, I’ll give you specific numbers.”

“Fair enough.” Tyler nodded toward the dark purple jacket hooked to the back of one of the chairs. “Let’s get lunch.”

“I brought my lunch.” That was a lame response but he’d caught her by surprise.

“Eat it for dinner instead or lunch tomorrow.”

Iris started to decline his invitation but the challenge in his eyes made her hesitate. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. All I did was smile at Donovan and you accused me of flirting with him. If I have lunch with you, what will you accuse me of?”

“Very good judgment.” The gleam in his eyes caused Iris to doubt his claim.

“You usually work through lunch.”

“So do you. But I’ve been told that I should see the world outside my desk once in a while. Join me.” His voice evoked thoughts of something other than lunch.

What’s going on here?

Iris glanced at the small silver cooler that held her chicken sa

lad and thermos of iced tea. They’d both keep. Still she hesitated. His invitation was tempting but she couldn’t afford to give in to what she suspected was a growing attraction to her client. Iris wanted to fall in love. But this was not the right place and certainly not the right time.

She tightened her grip on the back of her chair. “I really should keep working.”

“I admire your dedication but you could use a break.”