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She pulled away once we got to the garage floor and the elevator chimed, and she brushed her thumb over her lip, a light in her eyes. “Keep wearing that today,” she whispered, and suddenly we were very much back to the raw physical attraction. My whole body reacted, and all I could do was nod numbly as the doors opened.
“I… will.”
“I’ll be doing the same,” she whispered. “Meetings where I’ll be dressed like this… thinking of you…”
“Cameron…” Her name came out as a weak plea—an attempted rebuke that turned into a breathy gasp. She licked her lips as the doors opened, and she stepped out into the parking garage, towards her car.
“I’ll see you next time, London.”
I knew damn well why I hadn’t taken the chance to close her. I just didn’t want to think about it.
I kept wearing it, like she’d said, and it had heat buzzing through my body the whole way back to the office, where the coffee machine broke as I walked past and Ruth’s packet of sugar exploded as she pulled it open. Sitting in my office, feeling the keen awareness of every inch of my skin, my mind caught on the thought of Cameron, out there in her meeting right now, wearing that unbelievable red set.
She would be back in full serious work mode. I’d checked videos online and seen her giving interviews, and she was intense when she was in work mode. The image of her standing at the head of a table, leading a meeting, using that stern voice and that steady, intense gaze—and underneath it, dressed like that, thinking about me. Ready to melt for my touch.
Dammit.
I’d never had my work derailed by being horny before, but it was hard to focus. Studying the numbers María had sent me for the conference presentation was dizzying, overwhelmed by it all and hard to make sense of it, and I tried a few times to write my script and got nowhere. I was still in the middle of the spiraling when the door knocked, and I put on a polite smile that vanished when Miguel came into the room.
“London,” he said, looking a little breathless—putting on a show like he’d run to get here, a display to make it look like whatever he was saying was really important—but thank god for my curse, because he got interrupted by his belt loop catching on the doorhandle. He jerked back and banged his hand on the door, and he fumbled trying to unhook his pants.
“I understand your struggle,” I said drily. “Doors are a pretty recent innovation. It’s not easy to catch up with the times.”
“Listen—shut up. Why do things like this only ever happen in your office?”
Maybe because karma was real and wanted to fuck him over. I wouldn’t complain. “Tell me what you want, Miguel.”
He freed himself from the doorhandle and stepped inside, shutting the door, before he leaned over my desk, trying to look powerful. “Cameron Mercier?”
“London Sinclair, actually.” I pointed to the plaque on my desk. “Says it right there.”
“A sixty-million-dollar budget?”
“Plaques aren’t cheap, but that’s a bit steep…”
He sighed sharply. “Stop playing games with me. María seriously put you and you alone on a case like this?”
“What?” I snorted. “Upset you can’t steal this one out from under me, too?”
He glowered. “If you’re whining about Garcia, you just walked in and took it from Ruth, to begin with.”
“She fucking asked. And I actually did shit, not just walk in and throw down some forms. And then lying to María?”
He wrinkled his nose. “Forget it. Did you look at the—” He gestured a folding paper, and I sighed.
“I set it aside to deal with it later. I’m busy. I have a conference to prepare for.”
He paused. “The… conference? You’re going? Not María?”
I bristled, and it took all my willpower not to fly off the handle at him. “I’m going, Miguel. I can handle a little presentation.”
“A little presen—” He threw his hands up. “Fuck’s sake, London, this is the second biggest conference in our field, and you’re describing the headline speech as a little presentation?”
“The headline…” I blanked. “What?”
“Are you fucking with me? Queen Pearl is slated to deliver the headliner event this year.”
I felt my face burn. “If you’re going to try making shit up, make it believable? María would have told me.”
