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Benjamin watched her walk across the room and into her office. The subtle sway of her hips, and the slight hollow behind her knee just below her skirt's hem, mesmerized him. He swallowed against the dryness in his throat.
What are you doing? Don't go there, Roth!
Benjamin shook his head. What had possessed him to march down the hall last week and bargain with Traynor to let Ms. Kincaid work for him, and not Burke? At the time, he convinced himself it was because of her qualifications. She was tremendously overqualified to work as just a glorified secretary. It was a stroke of good luck for Benjamin to find a woman as qualified as Jewell Kincaid who was also so fluent in Sign. She was a gift from the gods. After an hour of persistence and powerful demands, Travis agreed to give her up for a better position. Now, here she was.
But he was no idiot. She was gorgeous and ten steps beyond sexy. With the simple two-inch heels she wore, Jewell stood close to five-foot-ten. The top of her head would just hit his nose if he embraced her. Her figure screamed all woman with curves in all the right places. Although Jewell wore a professional, tailored suit, it did little to disguise the tempting curves and valleys of her body. Femininity embodied her.
She was dangerous.
He was a fool.
He inhaled and the delicious scent she left behind filled his senses. The top layer was a musky, floral perfume with the slightest hint of oriental jasmine. Benjamin took another breath. Beneath the manufactured scent was her true essence. Mingled with the perfume was a sweet, fruity trail that was probably her shampoo. Peach lotion and the clean aroma of ivory soap completed the layers. Together they were an intoxicating and heady combination. Individually, each was incomplete and hollow.
He shot out of his chair. Knock it off! He’d boxed yourself into a corner this time. She was right in front of him, and he couldn’t even think about touching her. Not without having a sexual harassment suit thrown in his lap.
Annoyed, Benjamin raked his hair with his fingers. He just had to keep his libido in check. This wasn’t her doing, and she certainly hadn’t done anything to make him think otherwise. He guessed she wasn't the type of woman who would be involved in an office fling.
Neither was he.
Now he would have to work with her, closely, every day and learn to deal with the consequences of his impulsivity. All because he let the wrong head do his thinking for him. It was like cutting off his nose to spite his face.
Benjamin stalked the room. He was better off with Mrs. Soldano!
He stopped near the door to her office and leaned back to spy on her. Jewell sat at her desk, her back to him, as she familiarized herself with the computer system. She seemed competent as she moved through the custom-designed programs, which piggybacked the basic PC setup. Her hand came up so her fingers touched the small curls at the nape of her neck. Absently, she tucked the auburn escapees back into the tight twist. Benjamin wondered how much hair she hid in the prim style, and how it would look flowing free around her shoulders.
He closed his eyes. Rather than the enticing picture of her flowing hair, his mind filled with the erotic image of her lips as they formed his name.
Benjamin.
Those full, luscious lips pursed ever so slightly when she said his name. They pressed together and slowly separated before drawing together and back in a soft pout. He felt the rumble of a groan in his chest and his eyes snapped open to make sure she didn't notice. Jewell didn't look up. For all he knew, she was playing music or something, and had no idea he watched her.
Frustrated, he turned away and returned to his desk.
CHAPTER THREE
On Friday of her first week, Jewell opened her desk drawer at 12:22 and scowled at the cold sandwich and bag of chips she'd grabbed that morning. She'd eaten at her desk every day since Monday, when she'd nearly gone bankrupt buying a salad in the company café. She held out until nearly one, when her stomach declared with a loud rumble that it would be fed, and now. The door to both Mr. Roth's office and the main bullpen were open, but the only sound she heard was the mix of keys clicking, phones ringing, and low conversation that prevailed in the big room.
The sandwich still held no appeal, so she shoved back from her desk and went to Mr. Roth's door, glancing inside the empty office. His laptop sat on the desk, open, but with the security password screen showing. She had learned quickly that if he didn't have a lunch meeting, he ate at his desk, if he ate at all. Part of her had hoped he was there and she could convince him to escape for lunch. With a sigh, Jewell turned and left her office through the door leading to the backside of April's desk just as April came down the wide corridor down the center of the bullpen.
"Hey," April said with an open smile, setting her purse on the inside of her desk wall. "Did you need something?"
"Yes, something decent to eat for lunch."
"Have you been down to the cafeteria?"
Jewell snorted a laugh. "Yeah, tried a salad?—"
"Ouch," April interrupted, wrinkling her nose. "You don't have to say anything else. I've had one of those salads you need to rob a bank to pay for. Do you want to get out for a while?"
Jewell folded her arms on the high ledge of the desk and looked down at April as she settled in front of her computer. "Is it bad that I've only been here a few days and I'm already going a bit stir crazy?"
April laughed, logging into her system. "No. At least you can get out this time of year. A few more months and you'll need a full-body snowsuit just to cross the street."
"Guess I should escape while I can. Any suggestions?"
"Depends. What are you in the mood for?"
