who pulled the covers over my head if I heard a strange noise in the middle of the night instead of calling 911, but I didn't care.
My cell phone chose that moment to burst forth with a string of high-pitched rings, saving me from having to answer her. God bless technology.
"Hang on a sec," I said, leaning down and unsnapping the front flap of my case. I withdrew my phone and placed it at my ear. "Events by Naomi."
"Where are you?" an angry male voice ground out. "I tried you at home. Many times. Obviously you weren't there."
Recognition came instantly, as did the tingling surge of excitement. The warm rush of desire. Royce.
"I'm at Cinderella Catering," I told him, commanding my heart rate to slow. "Good news. They've agreed to cater the party."
"What are you doing there? You were supposed to meet me for lunch. Have you forgotten?"
"No." Frowning, I glanced up at Kera, who was watching me with unconcealed interest. "We met yesterday instead. I thought-"
"So don't think. We met yesterday in addition to our lunch today. I expect you to be at my office in ten minutes."
"But I-"
"Ten minutes, Naomi."
"Will you just listen to-" I needn't have bothered trying to explain myself. The other line had already clicked, signaling its abrupt disconnection.
My teeth ground together in annoyance, anticipation and disgust at my reaction to simply hearing his voice. I threw the phone back in my briefcase, wishing it were Royce's head so I could toss it to the ground and stomp on it. Maybe even give it a hard kick between the eyes (while wearing steel-toed boots) for good measure.
I liked to think it took great lengths to shatter my composure. (Hey, there's nothing wrong with lying to oneself.) Yet it seemed as if Royce had only to open his mouth and my patience immediately flew out the window. Damn Triple C.
I directed a disgruntled look to my cousin. "I've got to run. Duty calls."
Her features were lit with interest. "Bachelor of the Year?"
"None other," I said with a grimace.
"So you met with him yesterday, hmm?" She crossed her arms over her chest and stared over at me, eyes narrowed. Her lips twitched, ruining her efforts to appear angry.
"Yes. I met with him." I offered no more.
"I don't recall hearing anything about this."
Giving Kera a quick hug, I said, "Should we have your ears tested, then?"
"You better spill the details tonight. Try to clam up and I'll sic Mel on you."
I gave a mock shudder. "What a cruel, cruel woman you're becoming."
"Hey," she said, eyes twinkling with the same wicked glint Mel's sometimes had, "you didn't happen to bring your green handcuffs, did you? Mel will be disappointed if you don't use them soon."
"No, I didn't bring them." Thank God. "I didn't know I'd be seeing Royce today."
"Keep them in your briefcase. That way, you'll always be prepared."
My brows arched as I pretended confusion. "Think I'll need to perform a citizen's arrest for his bad attitude?"
She snorted. "Hello, you can cuff him to his desk and have your naughty way with him."
I had to completely blank my mind before delicious images invaded. Images of Royce lying on his desk and me crawling over him, running my tongue over every inch and hollow. Damn it!
Gathering my composure, I stepped outside, throwing over my shoulder, "I'll see you tonight." As the door closed, I glanced at my wristwatch. I only had nine minutes and five seconds to get to Royce's building.
Realizing it would be faster to cut through the city streets on foot rather than let a cab maneuver through traffic, I raced down the pavement. My slightly heeled brown shoes thumped against the ground. The sound echoed loudly in my ears. Why was I rushing around like an idiot?
Jump through the fiery hoop, little kitty, Royce mocked inside my mind.
Can I do it naked? my hormonal doormat responded, while the Tigress in me growled, Why don't I hill you both, instead?
Along the way, I rammed into a portly gentleman holding a box of doughnuts. Uttering a hasty apology, I helped him rescue the now dirty pastries, then picked up my bag and hurried on.
I hate, hate, hate being late. Always have. I think the need to be on time had been ingrained in me since birth. My mom, who was always late, said I'd arrived two weeks ahead of schedule, that I'd walked and talked early and that I'd begun my terrible twos-whatever that meant-when I was only one.