Before I even attempt to see Chance, I need caffeine. With a choice between terrible coffee and a cup of tea, I go for the tea. I even brew Chance a cup, then drop my mug off at my desk while I take the other mug into his office.
He's sitting behind his desk, forehead crinkled, staring at a document.
I place his mug on the desk beside the document. "Good morning, Chance. I thought you might need it, so I brought you a cuppa."
And I'm so damn proud of myself for remembering the British word for a cup of tea.
He glances up at me and smiles a little, his forehead smoothing out. Taking a sip of tea, he studies me. "Thank you, Elena. You look incredible this morning. In my dreams last night, we had a very good time."
"You shouldn't say things like that at work. Someone might overhear."
"Yes, and then Raisa might fire me." He says that with a twinkle in his gorgeous blue eyes and an amused slant to his lips. "I'm sure you can console me when that happens. I've already fantasized about you doing that."
I really, really, really need to tell him to stop flirting.
Before I crawl onto his lap and unzip his pants.
Yeah, I know what I should tell him, but my mouth has other ideas. Or maybe it's my hormones talking when I hear myself say, "You look pretty damn incredible too. And in my dreams, we had more than a good time. We rocked."
Chance grins, and every part of me that can melt does. "Why would you say something like that? You keep telling me we shouldn't have sex or even go out to dinner. But you're flirting with me." He sets down his mug and slants toward me. "And I love it."
"I didn't mean to. What I said was inappropriate, and I apologize." I'm totally lying, but who cares? This is too much fun. "How can I make it up to you?"
He pushes his chair back and pats his lap. "Come here, Elena."
My name. Again. Flowing from his kissable lips.
I want to go over there, but I don't dare try it. The door is open, and he hasn't darkened the windows, but I'm not at all convinced that will stop me from behaving in a very unprofessional manner. With him, I have zero willpower. Not one itty-bitty scrap of it.
"Work, Chance," I force myself to say. "This is a law office, not a strip club. What work do you need me to do for you?"
He sighs like I've said the most boring, annoying thing imaginable. "If you insist on doing your job, I have research for you to dig into."
I walk out of Chance's office five minutes later with enough research on my plate to keep me busy all week. I could almost cry from relief.
No more faltering willpower. Instead, I can hide out in law libraries.
Coward? Me? Nah.
Chapter Five
Chance
I've been acting like a sleazy lawyer. People make jokes about those kinds of lawyers, the ones who have no morals and no ethics, no compunctions about doing anything and everything to get what they want. I've prided myself on being a decent bloke who happens to be an attorney, and my clients appreciate that. Raisa has always thought I was too rigid and ought to bend my ethics now and then. Not break them, but simply stretch the boundaries a little in the name of serving my clients' interests. I refuse to do that.
Yet here I am sexually harassing a paralegal.
Granted, I'd met Elena before I started working here. We had sex a few days ago, and I still can't wrap my head around the idea she works for my ex-wife and now for me, temporarily. How can I not flirt with Elena? I've kissed her, fondled her, fucked her. I know more about her body than any employer has a right to know, but I can't erase Friday night from history. I don't want to, anyway.
Sure, the firm's policy on dating gives me leeway. But I'm technically her boss, which pushes me into a gray area.
I have to stop my inappropriate behavior---at work.
How can I convince her to see me outside of the office? I can't figure out how to arrange that when I've resolved to behave like a professional, ethical attorney.
"Fuck," I hiss under my breath.
Elena disappears for the rest of the day, no doubt ensconced in a law library somewhere.
I try my damnedest not to think about her, but it's like trying not to breathe. Elena Linwood is temptation incarnate, not to mention being sweet and competent and thoughtful. She'd brought me tea this morning, voluntarily. I survive the entire day, managing to do my job despite fantasizing about the sexiest paralegal I've ever met.
At ten o'clock, I decide I've worked long enough today. Raisa is still in her office when I shut the door to mine. I can tell by the light leaking out around her office door, though she's turned the windows opaque so I can't see into the room. My hopes of skulking out of here without needing to speak to her are shattered when I'm halfway to the elevator and her office door opens, spilling light across the array of cubicles and all the way to the elevator.
"Chance," Raisa calls out. "I need to speak to you. Immediately."
I growl, too softly for Raisa to hear. Why hadn't I left five minutes earlier? She might not have noticed then.
"I'm knackered, Raisa," I say as I turn sideways to glance at her. "Whatever it is can wait until morning."
She disappears into her office for a few seconds, long enough that I almost believe she's given up. Then she emerges again, her purse slung over her shoulder, and shuts off the light. Only the ambient glow from outside the windows illuminates the space as she trots down the center aisle of the cubicle farm and straight to me.
"Let's have dinner in your hotel room," she says. "We can talk there."
"No. This is my relaxation time." And my time away from her. "I'm off the clock until morning."
She makes a noise that implies I'm an idiot. "Lawyers are never really off the clock."
"This one is."
"Don't be this way, Chance." She runs her hands up and down my lapels, inching closer and closer until her body almost touches mine. "After a long day of working, we both need to blow off some steam. And you have a nice big suite right across the street."
When I'd first met Raisa, she had been the sexiest woman on earth to me. These days, I can't look at her without remembering the things she did to drive me away. I don't want to speak to her, much less take her to my hotel room.
All I want is Elena.
"Forget it," I tell Raisa. "That ship sailed and sank a long time ago. The me who wanted you drowned in the wreck."
I might have stretched that metaphor a bit too far.
Raisa moves to kiss me.
"Leave off," I say, pushing her away. "Try to remember I'm doing you a favor by working here."
Her expression hardens, the way it always does when I deny her something she wants. "Who are you sleeping with, Chance? You must be doing someone."
"Even if I am, it's none of your concern." The fact that I frequently want to throw Elena over my desk and ravish her has no bearing on this conversation. "Good night, Raisa. I'll see you in the morning."