“I’ll have him call you as soon as he gets in,” I say into the phone and watch as Branson heads into his office.
Through the door opening, I can see him hang his coat on the rack and place his briefcase on the desk. He’s going through his papers as I hang up the phone.
Standing up, I lay my palms over my stomach and take a long, deep breath. I wore a white button-down, tucked into a gray pencil skirt, and Mary Jane high heels—something I thought was sexy but in a conservative way.
I look in the mirror on the wall near my desk and appraise my outfit. My long blonde hair is blown out and cascading down my shoulders. I’m wearing red lipstick today, which I’ve never done before. Despite the red, I still look very stiff.
I undo a button on my blouse, putting my cleavage on display. “Oh, what the hell? Let’s go for two buttons,” I mutter to myself.
I’ve never been so brazen. In fact, my hands were trembling at just the undoing of a single button.
Am I really going to come on to my boss at nine thirty in the morning?
Well, you have to start somewhere.
My hands shake as I walk over to Branson’s doorway. He’s checking his email, staring at the monitor with an expression showing he’s slightly annoyed at what’s on the screen.
I take a step forward and stop. He doesn’t notice me standing here. I glance down at my open shirt and push my shoulders back, hoping to make myself more bountiful than my modest B cup.
With my head raised, I clear my throat.
Branson turns his attention to me. “Hi, Katherine. I need the reports on the ratings an hour earlier than usual. I want to bring them to my ten o’clock.”
“They’re already done,” I say with a smile and take a step forward as his gaze goes back to his computer.
Okay, so that didn’t work.
With a more purposeful attempt, I walk all the way up to his desk and lay a hand on top of the mahogany, leaning forward. Branson is still typing as his chin moves toward me and then his eyes. When they see me propped there—rather seductively, I should add—his brows rise, and his sight lands right on my chest.
And now, I’m panicking.
Branson is looking at my breasts. Why is he looking at my breasts? Because you wanted him to. I know, but … oh dear … now, I’m think-talking to myself. And he’s still looking at my boobs.
His focus startles, and his gaze meets mine. “Is there something I can help you with?”
This is it, Katie. What was it Hunter said to do? Eye contact? Yeah, you got that part down. Compliment him! Yes …
“Your eyes are …” I fidget with a paper clip on the desk and spin it around my finger while swallowing down this anxious feeling running through my body. “They’re a blue that’s so …” I stare into them and try to remember what it was I said to Hunter. He said to be honest. “Blue?”
He tilts his head in confusion, leaning back in his chair and staring at me a beat longer than usual. “You’re just realizing this now?”
“No,” I state. “Actually, I’ve been noticing you for—”
“There you are,” a man’s deep voice announces from behind me and I glance to see who.
It’s not just any man. It’s Hunter. I’d know that swagger anywhere.
I take a quick inhale, embarrassed, hoping he didn’t just see that god-awful performance.
I stand up jerkily and turn to him. He’s in the doorway, wearing a black suit, black tie, and a pissed off expression.
My eyes widen at him and then shoot to the side, silently asking him what the hell he’s doing here.
His orbs darken at the sight of my open blouse and then round at my hair covering my shoulders. His gaze skirts to Branson reclining in his leather chair and to where I was just leaning over the desk.
With an expression of sheer determination, Hunter struts toward me, laces a hand around my waist, and pulls me into him. My body’s flush against his as his mouth comes crashing onto mine in a strong kiss. I lose consciousness as his tongue enters my mouth and he pulls me down the rabbit hole with his passionate embrace. I kiss him back but only momentarily.
I raise my arm in the air, about to push him away, but his thumb glides along my spine, and the sensation has me falling deeper into the kiss. My knees wobble, and I’m pretty sure I’ve forgotten what day of the week it is.
When he releases me, I’m breathless and shaken.
It only takes a second for my face to ignite with rage.
I open my mouth to speak, but he says the first word, “I’ve been looking for my beautiful girl all morning.” He spins me in his arms, so I’m now facing Branson. “Sorry, boss, but you don’t mind if I whisk her away for a few minutes, do you?”
“What are you doing?” I whisper-ask him.
I try to move, but he grips me tighter.
Hunter laughs. “This vixen. She snuck out of bed this morning and didn’t say good-bye.” He nuzzles my neck and coos loudly enough for Branson to hear, “After a night like we had, I was hoping to see you before work.”
My eyes feel like they’re about to bulge out of my head. “Hunter, you—”
“You don’t need her right now, do you?” he asks, and the tone sounds awfully accusatory.
I try to turn in Hunter’s arm to tell him off when Branson lets out a grunt, clearing his throat and adjusting his tie.
“Snogging, eh? I didn’t realize you two had copped off. Are you now a couple?”
“No,” I say as Hunter says, “Yes. Baby, it’s okay.”
He rests his chin on my shoulder. His mouth is so close to my neck that I can feel his breath on my skin. “I cleared it with Human Resources. There’s no problem with us dating since you don’t report to me.”
Branson raises a brow as he takes in the sight of Hunter holding me from behind, cocooning me. “I hope this isn’t another one of your escapades. I happen to like Katherine and don’t need her quitting when this all goes south.”
“This isn’t any woman. Katie is special,” Hunter says, standing tall with his arms still around me.
I should say something, but I’m in shock at how he’s behaving. I’m at a loss for words.
“She is,” Branson says as he stands up. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to use the loo.”
“You do that,” Hunter says over his shoulder as Branson walks out of the room and through my administrative area.
When he is out of earshot, I spin out of Hunter’s grasp and punch him in the arm. “What is wrong with you?”
He kisses me on the cheek and then walks around Branson’s desk, taking a seat in the leather chair. “I was saving you. It’s okay to thank me.” He leans back and puts his hands behind his head and his feet on the desk.
My arms rise in exasperation. “Thank you? I was about to make my move!”
The smile on his face dissipates. “Yeah, about that … I was wrong. Coming on to him like that is a bad idea. Women throw themselves at Branson Ford every day. He doesn’t want that kind of woman.”
I let out a frustrated huff. “And you think kissing me in front of him is the way to go?”
Hunter makes a pointed-gun gesture and shoots it at me. “Bingo. You just earned yourself a boyfriend.”