NATASHA OAKLEY - At The Boss's Command - Taking on the Boss / The Millionaire Boss's Mistress / Accepting the Boss's Proposal

She cast a glance downward to her black heels, willing that one would fall off gracefully and save her from this embarrassment.

His gaze followed, coursing over her suit jacket, down her simple white blouse, over her short black skirt that stopped a good six inches above her knees, down her bare legs to her feet.

His eyes glinted and she had the sudden urge to cross her arms. She felt naked, as though he’d just seen far more of her than he should have. And liked what he saw.

Butterflies swarmed in her belly.

Tahlia jerked her hand up to her face, pushed back her blonde-streaked long fringe and pointed to the lifts. ‘Must go. Love to…’ Die on the spot. ‘But can’t be late for work.’

The cute-suit raised an eyebrow, his blue eyes flashing. ‘That’s it?’

She froze. What? Did he mean to suggest that he was well aware of her disgusting weak-kneed reaction and was expecting her to fall into his arms again? What arrogance!

‘It?’ she enunciated clearly, crossing her arms. What else could he want? ‘As opposed to, what? ’

‘An apology.’

‘Oh.’ The sound escaped her throat. Of course he did. Obviously. Manners. Why hadn’t she thought of that instead of jumping to erogenous conclusions? ‘Sorry for—’

His mouth quirked, fighting what looked to be a smile.

She stiffened, her blood heating anew. ‘Sorry for…running into someone who was obviously not looking where he was going.’

‘Either,’ he added, his voice an octave deeper.

‘Either,’ she echoed as casually as she could, hating to concede a point, and more than infuriated at her body’s total lack of sense. ‘Fine, but since you agree that you weren’t looking where you were going either , you could apologise…’

His eyes sparkled. ‘You’re absolutely right, but I was brought up to believe in “ladies first”.’

‘I think that relates to entries, exits and queues, not to apologies.’ She glared up at him. ‘And you have to admit that men need all the practice they can get.’

The man put down his case. ‘Apologising?’

She nodded. ‘It’s really something they don’t do enough of.’

‘Bad day?’ He slipped his hands into his pockets. ‘Has your husband upset you?’

She shook her head, a smile jumping to her mouth. ‘I’m not married.’ Gawd, no. She wasn’t going anywhere near that challenge for a long time.

‘Your boyfriend, then?’

‘No—’ Tahlia took a step back, her stomach fluttering as though there were a thousand butterflies in it. Was he interested, in her ? ‘Look, I have to go or I’ll be late and you don’t know my boss—’

He didn’t know her either.

‘She doesn’t let you forget any transgression, no matter how insignificant, and it’s not like she’ll be sympathetic to my bumped-into-a-cute-guy-in-the-lobby excuse, even though she is seriously in need of a good—’

‘You think I’m cute?’

She touched her lips. Oh, damn. That couldn’t have been her. She never babbled, let alone incoherently. She never put her feet anywhere except where she wanted to go.

She pointed to the lifts, opening her mouth, but no words would come out. What in blazes was going on with her?

‘See you around then?’ he offered, his warm mouth fighting a smile that promised to be as amazing as the rest of him.

She nodded, swung around and forced herself to get as much distance between them as possible, counting her steps, measuring her speed to look as little like the hasty escape it was as possible.

What was that?

Tahlia shook her head. She wasn’t going to even think about it. So, the guy was cute and lust was a natural response. She didn’t have to concern herself about a bit of lust and there were so many reasons to lust for that guy.

Deep sexy voice, gorgeous body, tall, commanding and handsome as hell, but she wasn’t about to listen to inappropriate primal urges.

She needed a list of criteria for the most appropriate partner, a conservative, safe plan to dating, a timetable that would fit in with her commitments and work demands. This was not the time to get distracted or fall for anyone willy-nilly.

She stepped into the lift, taking a deep slow breath. What was she even thinking? One thing she was sure of. She was never going to fall for anyone, especially someone like that.

She was not going to make the same mistakes as her mother. No way in hell. Case Darrington punched the lift button, unable to stop the smile that had crept on to his lips at meeting the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

It wasn’t just her looks. It was everything about her.

The way she’d pulled her short chestnut-brown hair up and back into a wild and spiky knot intrigued him, suggesting a conservative layer covering something untamed underneath.

The large chunk of hair that she left loose could be called a fringe, hanging down and cupping her cheek like his hands itched to.

Her skin had beckoned to him, creamy smooth. Her lips, full and plump like peaches just begging to be tasted. Her eyes, deep dark green, pinning him to the spot.

So much to explore…who was she?

He should have asked her name, should have skipped getting exact directions from the guard and just followed her. He should have kept her talking instead of letting her have her escape without even getting her name, her floor, a glass shoe.

Case put his attaché case by his feet and tried to stop smiling. Hell. She’d floored him, with her eyes, her lips, her words…

Case couldn’t say when he’d last been so flattered so simply. Had watched such a beautiful display of…innocent reaction.

He stiffened. What was he thinking? He wasn’t about to get carried away with any unusual aches in the heart that he’d thought had died on him.

He’d grown wiser the hard way.

The doors opened on the lift and he snatched up his attaché case and stepped in. He wasn’t here for anything but work.

He gripped his case tighter, the woman’s face leaping into his mind, her green eyes sizzling and her full lips taunting him.

Dammit. Why couldn’t life be as straightforward as figures on a balance sheet?

A woman with deep red hair swept into the small space. ‘Hello, handsome,’ she lilted.

Case turned to find fluttering lashes on dark eyes that were drinking him up.

He stepped back. That tone…that look…sent memories flashing through the gashes in his heart.

‘Are you visiting or are you planning to stay around and make all my dreams come true?’ she asked softly, her smile widening, showing teeth.

‘I work here,’ he said bluntly, staring at the lift doors, willing the thing to get to his floor faster. He’d have to look into that. The lift was too slow. Employees needed to get to their floors much faster, especially when accompanied by predatory females.

She waved a hand laden with gold jewellery, the bracelets tinkling. ‘I think I’d remember you unless you have that whole Clark Kent-Superman thing going,’ she purred softly, sidling closer to him. ‘So are you Clark, or are you my Superman? I do love games.’

‘I’m new.’ And he hated games. He’d seen enough games to last him a lifetime. Hell, his ex had been a master at them, playing him in ways he’d never believed possible.

She ran a hand along his jacket sleeve, leaning closer, affording him a generous view of her low-cut blouse and the assets heaving there. ‘I could show you around.’

‘I don’t think so, Miss—?’ He stared at the panel— the floor he wanted was the only one lit. Please let it be a mistake, let her not be working with him… The last thing he needed was a constant reminder of his biggest failure in life to date.