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Anna-Beth seemed to have lived a different life than he and Malcolm. His friend spent a lot of time with his parents. As the firstborn son, Malcolm had been this welcoming beacon to his family. George had known how loved his friend had been—the son that would take over the company. At the dinners he attended, there was rarely mention of the sister.
Pulling out of his thoughts, he moved toward his desk and pretended to be working, while at the same time focused on the door opening. He wanted to see her. Craved it.
George sat back and ran a hand down his face, wondering what the hell he was doing. He’d never tried to manipulate a woman like this, and he didn’t quite like it.
I want to see her.
There was a light knock on the door before it opened, and there was no time to change what he had done. He watched as Anna-Beth stepped into his office. The moment she saw he wasn’t on the phone, she stopped.
“Happy lunchtime,” George said, getting to his feet. He did a stretch to pretend he hadn’t been standing by his window, looking for her.
He hadn’t been able to work all morning. Since it was his company, he didn’t give a fuck if some things arrived a little later.
“Would you like me to come back another time?” Anna-Beth asked.
“No, no, of course not. I’m starved. What’s for lunch?”
He moved away from his desk and took several steps toward one of his more comfortable chairs. As he did so, he moved past Anna-Beth and got the most intense scent of lemon. Fuck, he loved lemon. The scent of it always made his mouth water, and now Anna-Beth did as well.
He sat down, even as he felt his cock hardening. She was once again in a dress. This one fell to her knees, and the apron she wore over it seemed to curve all the way around her body, and she looked stunning. Every curve was on display, and he wanted her, unlike any other woman.
Anna-Beth moved closer, putting the tray of food onto his lap. “I made you poached salmon, salad, and a special vinaigrette to go with.”
She lifted the lid off the food, and there was a delicious-looking lunch.
“I also cut some of the sourdough bread you like. I hope that’s okay?”
“Of course it is. Where is your food?” he asked.
“Uh, in the kitchen.”
“Go grab it and come and join me.”
She opened her mouth, and he just knew she was going to refuse him, which he didn’t want.
“I hate eating alone, and I’ve got no phone calls until this afternoon. My assistant booked them for the wrong time.” He gave a little tut, the lie dropping easily from his lips.
“Do you think that is appropriate?” Anna-Beth asked. Her cheeks had gone a delightful shade of red.
He wanted to reach out and cup them within his palm, and see if they felt as red as they looked. Instead, he kept his hands to himself, and his cock had gotten even harder. He was pleased the lunch tray was on his lap to hide his erection.
“I don’t know, is eating lunch with a friend not appropriate?” he asked.
“A friend?”
“That’s what we are, right? I know I’m supposed to be your boss, but we’re friends first. I’ve known you for twenty years.”
And now, he remembered that she was ten years younger than his forty years.
“You’re right. I’ll go and get my lunch.”
She spun on her heel, and George had every intention of playing the gentleman, but he couldn’t help admiring the curves of her ass as she left his office.
He closed his eyes.
Get it together, George.
He wanted her. From the moment she had arrived at his home, via Malcolm, he’d wanted her. It was a craving he hadn’t understood.
