quickly looking towards the door like someone is going to burst in.
“Go on,” I order, sitting down on the arm of the chair.
She tightens her ponytail, taking a deep breath. “So yeah, I was too shocked over his appearance, and then he yelled at me.”
“He yelled at you?” I ask, standing up again. Job or no job, I’ll put him in his place. Leana is one of the sweetest and kindest people I know. It kind of makes me sick. Still, no one has the right to yell at her.
“Yes!” She throws her hands up, still red as a beetroot. “I didn’t know my left from my right, I was that out of it. I rushed over to introduce myself and give him his coffee and muffins, and I fell.”
I cringe, seeing where this is going. Only Leana could do that.
“Are you okay?” Chrissy asks, unable to look at Leana head-on.
“Am I okay? I fell into his lap! Face first!” she screeches.
I press my lips together to keep myself from bursting into hysterics, but it’s no use. Laughter spills out of me and I bend forward, clutching my stomach.
“Oh my Gosh,” Chrissy murmurs, her laughter more dignified than mine. I’m pretty sure I’ve snorted twice.
“It’s not funny! I went to apologise—while I was still in his lap. My mouth was around his very large appendage.”
I fall back into the chair, laughing uproariously. “Leana, you have made my day.”
“He’s going to fire me, isn’t he?” she asks, sounding so defeated I laugh harder.
I wipe at my eyes, straightening in the chair. “No, but you should be worried about Stewart.”
Her eyes go round. “Oh my God, do you think he’ll think I cheated on him?”
Getting up, I walk over. I rub her arm, still struggling to hold back my laughter. “Nope. You have nothing to worry about there.”
“Do I pay you to stand around and talk?”
“Mr Cross,” Leana squeaks.
My back is to the person with the warm, smoky voice that slides down my spine. My stomach swirls and my heart races. It’s pure sex. Husky with a slight hint of a London accent.
I’m not into dirty talk during sex, but fuck me if I don’t imagine him doing just that. Though knowing my luck, he’s probably dog ugly.
I don’t know what compels me to look at Chrissy first, but I do, gauging her reaction to the mystery voice. When the normally straight-laced, dignified woman openly gapes at the newcomer with desire written all over her, I know his looks will match that sexy voice of his.
I slowly spin around to address him, and I’m nearly knocked on my arse.
Damn, he’s even hotter than his voice suggests.
His cat-like green eyes with flecks of gold stare back at me. They’re sharp, yet narrow, giving him an immediate intensity about him.
Men in uniform have always been my kryptonite—well, that and tattoos.
But I think men in suits is my new favourite look.
His charcoal grey slacks fit him well, especially around the bulge area.
I lick my lips as I raise my gaze, letting it roam over what I hope are hard abs under the crisp, white shirt. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, leaving me breathless at the sight of his tattoos and thick veins.
God, even his red tie is bringing on dirty thoughts.
I clench my hand when I go to fan myself. I’m a goner.
His golden skin looks smooth, yet the five o’clock shadow and crooked nose, which must have been broken at least twice, gives him a rough appearance—in a ruggedly handsome kind of way. He wears it well, just like he does his tattoos, which decorate his arms and peek out from the collar of his shirt.
He’s everything I want in a guy. The whole package. Not even the age difference bothers me, though he doesn’t look that much older than me.
Fingers click in front of my face. I blink out of my haze and stare up at the sharp features of my boss. If I was a normal person, I’d be turning red with embarrassment right now over being caught checking my boss out.
But I’m not.
It isn’t in my blood.
His lips pinch together as his eyes tighten, narrowed down on me. “Are you with us or would you like more time staring at me?” he snaps harshly.
And there goes my dream of him being the whole package.
I sigh, tilting my head. “You had to go and ruin it,” I murmur, causing his eyebrows to crease.
I guess everyone has a flaw.
“Excuse me?”
I