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  ***

  The doorbell rang at nine that night. Nigel and Carly weren’t back yet. “We’re hanging out at a bar with some of her friends. See you later tonight,” was the text Sarah received two hours before. Fine with her. She didn’t mind having the place to herself for the whole day.

  So when the doorbell rang at nine and she was all alone? Fuck. That.

  “I’m not answering you, Mr. Blackbourne.” The doorbell rang again. Sarah didn’t need X-ray vision to know Lucas stood on the other side of the door. “You will deal with being stood up on a date I never agreed to.”

  Well, maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to check out what it was. Just in case it wasn’t Lucas.

  Ha! How stupid of her. Of course it was Lucas. Dressed in a three-piece suit, sans tie, the top few buttons undone and the rest of his white dress shirt rumpled from a day’s use. His face was covered in more than stubble – he clearly hadn’t shaved a bit since Friday morning. And that piercing gaze that loved eating at Sarah’s soul? Currently boring a pothole in her sanity, traffic not redirected.

  His gaze only faltered when he glanced up, eyesight landing directly on the only bouquet left in the living area. “I knew you got my message,” he growled.

  Sarah tried to shut the door. The damn thing got stuck, giving Lucas enough time to put his hand out and hold it.

  “You enjoy standing men up, Ms. Clayborn?”

  Really? Typical man. Sarah could growl right back at him. “It’s not standing you up if I never agreed to see you to begin with.” .

  “It didn’t have to be a date.”

  Sarah had to do a double-take. Did billionaires dress like that to non dates? Oh, of course they did. She should have known that by now. “Sure, and I’m a humble servant girl.”

  “Have I done something to offend you?”

  “Well, for one, how they hell do you know where I live?” Something she’d been pondering for most of the day.

  “I have my ways of finding things out.” He leaned against the doorway. “It also helps to work in the same office as you do and have certain permissions.”

  “So you were snooping for details.”

  “Again, have I done something to offend you?”

  “Mr. Blackbourne,” Sarah knew how to have a backbone. She wasn’t afraid to erect it before him and stand her ground. “I would prefer to keep our relationship strictly professional. It can’t be helped that we’re working in the same office. I’m afraid the woman you met last week is not available at this time. If you have work related issues you would like to take up with me, however, then I may be open to a professional conversation.”

  “I’ve got a professional topic of discussion for you, Ms. Clayborn.” Did he think she was going to drop her panties for a growl like that? Yes. If I didn’t have control of myself right now? Yes. Fuck me. “How about this ridiculous amount of sexual tension we’re dealing with? What are we going to do about that, hm?”

  Sarah had expected something like that out of his mouth. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Any inappropriate sexual feelings you have for me are entirely one-sided.”

  “Really?” He stepped forward, into her apartment. Sarah likewise took a single step back. “Please tell me how we have a night like last Saturday’s and not deal with tension at work?”

  She swallowed. “That’s different. I wasn’t… we weren’t…”

  He loomed over her. “You weren’t yourself, is that it?”

  Don’t look him in the eye. “No. I wasn’t. I was blowing off some steam. That’s all it was. I honestly never thought I would see you again.”

  “Well, you have seen me again, and I would like some answers before I decide I no longer have an attraction to you, Ms. Clayborn. That’s all I’m really asking for.”

  “Answers?”

  “Just tell me the truth about what you were doing at a club like that and seducing a man like me, and I’ll let it all go. Even if I don’t like the answer.”

  She considered that for a moment. “Not now. Not here. I’m sorry, but this is not an appropriate situation.”

  “Fine. Then tomorrow. Lunch. Assuming Damon lets you have a damn lunch without work being on the table.”

  “Whatever.”

  “We’ll go somewhere private where nobody will care that you and I are conversing. Your boss doesn’t have to know.”

  “He better not. I would be mortified.”

  Was that surprise in those stony blues? Sarah was trying not to look at them, lest she lose her will-power around this man she had a sex dream about as little as twelve hours ago.

  “I don’t mean to embarrass you.”

  “Well, you have. Suppose it can’t be avoided, huh?”

  “Suppose not.”

  They stood in silence. Sarah wrapped her robe tighter around her body before turning completely away.

  “I suppose I’ve been a bit forward since revealing my knowledge.” Lucas cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. It was never my intention to make you uncomfortable.”

  “Doesn’t help that I thought you were married until yesterday.”

  “Yes, well…the divorce was recent and we managed to keep the details out of the press. I prefer it that way.”

  Wouldn’t most people? “How recent?”

  He scoffed. “Nine months ago. Well before I met you.”

  “I didn’t mean to imply…”

  “But you’ve implied enough already.”

  Since when did this turn around on Sarah? “Sorry. Sounds like we’ve both had a misunderstanding.”

  “To be fair,” Lucas straightened out his jacket, “if I were in your shoes, I can see where it might be a bigger misunderstanding.”

  Finally, Sarah looked at him again. Gone was the overconfidence of a man who was sure he was having a hot date that night. If he thought he was seeing Angel for dinner tonight, he was sorely mistaken. She was simply Sarah. Nothing more, nothing less. Angel was packed away in her walk-in closet and only came out in New York.

  Sarah was seriously starting to reconsider Angel’s existence, if this was the kind of punishment she had to look forward to.

  “So don’t worry. I won’t tell Damon about any of this. Nor will I make you feel uncomfortable around me, if I can help it.”

  Sarah relaxed her tensed-up shoulders. “Thanks for the flowers. I guess.”

  “That was very forward and presumptuous of me.” He chuckled. “I should’ve sent just one, hm?”

  A smile cracked on Sarah’s face. “Five is a bit overkill, but nothing you billionaires do surprises me anymore.”

  “That so?”

  “Please. I was the one who arranged Mr. Monroe’s City Hall marriage, almost single-handedly. I’ll have you know he only knew that woman for a few weeks when they got hitched.”

  “Ah, yes, I recall. One week he and I are partying in Ibiza, getting wasted on wanton pussy, and a few weeks later he calls me up and says, ‘Oh, by the way, Luke, I’m married now. You should come meet my wife.’”

  Should Sarah mention she was there for that party in Ibiza? Granted, she went back to her hotel room before Mr. Monroe got any kind of “wasted,” let alone with women, but she wouldn’t mention it. I also helped that woman get home the next day. Luckily, that woman spoke English. Kinda. Not enough to safely take a cab back to her own hotel by herself, but good enough.

  “If you still want to have lunch tomorrow,” Sarah then continued, “that is fine with me.”

  “Deal. We shall discuss this mess we have found ourselves in. I’ll give you a complete timeline of my marriage and subsequent divorce until you are most satisfied that I was not cheating on any wife when I was with you.”

  Sarah remained silent.

  “You’ll tell me what that ‘Angel’ business was all about?”

  “I’ll tell you something.”

  Lucas approached, his scent, his powerful aura caressing Sarah as if he were a familiar lover. Not that familiar. Just because I know how it feel
s to have you inside of me…

  “Do I make you feel whole again?”

  Something sank into the pit of Sarah’s stomach. It was a mixture of apprehension…

  …and lust.

  Lucas picked up on it instantly. He took another step toward Sarah, his expression changing from satisfied with his current predicament to as fierce – or perhaps fiercer – than when he entered.

  “Tell me something now. Otherwise I won’t be able to wait until tomorrow.”

  Sarah kept her chin pointed up. “You’ll have to wait.”

  “Not even a teaser?”

  “Everyone should have something to look forward to on Monday.”

  His fingers nicked her chin. Oh, no. Not a touch like that. From the moment he lightly tapped her skin, Sarah burst with that same mighty desire she felt that first night they met in the nightclub.

  “Just one taste, Angel.”

  She had to take a deep breath before she passed out. Eyes closed, Sarah said, “Angel isn’t here right now.”

  “Give her a message for me, would you?”

  Sarah stiffened. “What?”

  She knew it. She knew he would lower his lips to her and be wonderfully inappropriate.

  “I think she’ll know what I’m talking about,” he muttered.

  Shivering, Sarah swayed where she stood. Her robe loosened. Her eyes fluttered open. One moment she was staunchly against anything happening with Lucas, and the next? I’m going to do something really stupid.

  Yup. Stupid, as in let Lucas full-on kiss her as if all her talk about no sexual tension existing between them was a total lie.

  The man was completely unlike a week ago, when Sarah had to all but work to get his attention and seduce him into her innermost chambers. Now he kissed her as if he would die without her lips on his. Both hands on her face. Strength pushing down into her mouth, his tongue tangling with hers in a wild move to keep her in place and preoccupied. Sarah latched onto his forearms and held still, bracing herself against the Blackbourne storm bearing down upon her.

  Lucas hastily broke off the kiss and stepped away, leaving Sarah standing in shock. “Think you could relay that message to her?” His voice was hoarse.

  The man was haggard from the thrills of lust and love. Sarah recognized it, although she wasn’t used to it being because of her. She had seen it on her boss while he courted his Mrs. Monroe. She had seen it when her brother first started dating Carly. She saw it at the nightclubs and at the café downstairs. When a man was in love, he had that crazed look in his eye.

  Hard to miss that same look in Lucas’s eyes when they were so bright.

  No way.

  “I think she got it loud and clear.”

  “Good.” With one wipe of his hand over his face, Lucas transformed into the man Sarah had seen at work that past week. “Also let her know that there’s more where that came from, if she wants it.”

  “You telling that to Angel or to me?”

  “Fuck, Sarah.” Lucas headed for the door. “I have no idea anymore.”

  Neither did she.

  Chapter 8

  Even on a usual day Sarah had no idea what to expect at work on Monday morning. Anything could happen even when she was off the clock. An investor pulled out. Stocks suddenly plummeted. A coup was staged in a country they did a lot of business with. Hell, one day some European businessman’s cat died and business came to a grinding halt for two days, sending Mr. Monroe into an agitated tizzy – and then, because he was such a good friend, he informed Sarah that the two of them were flying to Switzerland to attend this cat’s funeral.

  She really didn’t know what to expect with Lucas around.

  He came into the office a few minutes after she sat down at her desk, but they had barely made eye contact when Alisha approached Sarah with a question and Mr. Monroe commanded Lucas’s attentions. Thus they went about their usual work days without even so much as a polite greeting to one another. It helped that Mr. Monroe and Mr. Blackbourne spent most of those morning hours locked in a video conference call with only Alisha in attendance to take notes.

  Besides, Sarah mostly worked for the missus those days. A missus who had a wonderful habit of saying way too much at the wrong time.

  “Ms. Clayborn,” she said with that motherly effect to her voice that she adopted the moment she became pregnant, “I heard about what happened Friday. I’m so sorry. That shouldn’t have happened, and I’m going to talk to Damon about it.”

  It took Sarah a moment to remember what happened Friday. Right. Russell. “Please don’t worry about it,” she said. “It wasn’t a big deal. Don’t know if you noticed, but the senior Mr. Monroe is not much of a threat to me any longer.”

  Surely, Alice could understand that.

  “Still, it wasn’t appropriate. Please let me know if it happens again.”

  She nodded one last time, as if she had given herself permission to walk away from Sarah’s desk. Alice Monroe shuffled to her office to hold her own meeting with someone who had walked into the greater office. The receptionist took over from there.

  Sarah paused for a moment before returning to her monotonous work.

  At eleven, an inter-office envelope landed on Sarah’s desk. The nondescript woman delivering them around the office continued on without a word.

  “Ms. Sarah Clayborn.” She was only vaguely familiar with it right now, but Sarah recognized Lucas’s handwriting right away. She glanced around the office before opening the envelope and peeking at the lunch instructions.

  “I’ve secured us a private room for lunch down at Bell Jar’s. Please meet me there at your convenience between noon and 12:30.”

  Sarah ran the paper through the shredder she shared with Alisha. The trash was wadded up and shoved into the bottom of the paper-only garbage.

  She didn’t know if it was cathartic or not.

  I need to tell him that nothing can happen between us. Not only was it grossly unprofessional considering their current work situation, but Sarah was in no emotional position to take on even a casual boyfriend. She wasn’t at Nigel’s level yet. He had been able to get himself out of bed the day after everything went to hell and go out and get a new job and a girlfriend in the span of one month. Sarah? She had pushed any feelings she had deep down into the pits of her ribcage and put on a straight face to brave the world with. Work went into one category. Play into another. There was a reason Angel came into existence. Sarah needed a convenient way to express her sexual desires while still being “herself.” The everyday Sarah couldn’t handle relationships after what Russell did to her.

  So it should be easy to turn down any advances Lucas threw her way.

  “I’m going to lunch,” she announced to Alisha at 12:05. “I’m meeting someone, so if Mr. Monroe needs something, can you take care of it?”

  Alisha shrugged and only briefly looked up from the papers on her desk. “Sure. Who ya meeting?”

  Sarah said the first name that came to her mind. “Nigel.”

  “Oh.”

  Yeah. Oh.

  Sarah didn’t bother grabbing her coat when she was only going downstairs to one of Mr. Monroe’s restaurants. He and his wife owned a few of them now. Since meeting Alice, that part of the industry had switched over to the “Culver Hospitality Holdings” subdivision, based on Mrs. Monroe’s maiden name. It still felt strange to look at the directory in the elevator and see that instead of “MONROE INDUSTRIES.”

  Bell Jar’s was a soup and sandwich restaurant that boasted grand views of the city regardless of whether people dined in the general gallery or in one of a few private rooms – rooms that were only offered because Mr. Monroe needed places to take meetings for lunch. Sarah was intimately familiar with both the menu and the décor thanks to all the meetings she worked through. At least working during her lunch hour meant her lunch went on Mr. Monroe’s tab instead of hers.

  Lucas was already waiting for her in the most private of the rooms by the time Sarah found the h
ostess on duty.

  She forewent the hostess’s directions and showed herself back to the room. Lucas stood when she entered, but Sarah sat down before the man had the chance to pull her chair out for her. None of that bullshit today.

  “Cobb salad, no dressing, with a bowl of soup of the day,” she said to the waiter the moment he entered. Both waiter and Mr. Blackbourne exchanged glances before the waiter walked back out with the menus in his hands.

  “You know what you want, hm?”

  Sarah shrugged, glad for the large table keeping a healthy distance between her and Lucas. “I come here a lot. You get to know what you want after the familiarity settles in.”

  “That’s… an astute observation.”

  “I’ve done some reading up on you, Mr. Blackbourne.”

  He sat back with a start. “Jumping right into it.”

  “I only have an hour for lunch. I don’t want to waste any time.”

  “I see.” Good. She had made him flustered. Sarah knew coming in that she needed to have the upper hand. This included catching him off guard and making him forget whatever flirtations he intended to hurl her way. “What have you been reading about me?”

  His posture was defensive. Arms crossed. Brows furrowed. Leaning back with both feet planted firmly on the floor. Only distraction was that his legs were obnoxiously wide open like the other night in The Dark Hour. Almost an invitation for a woman to crawl between them and have her fun.

  And I did have fun. Damnit.

  “I read up on your marriage.” What else was she going to do with her Sunday evening after he left? Sarah took that bath she had promised herself and scrolled for miles through her phone, reading everything she could about Lucas Blackbourne’s ill-fated marriage to Jill Blackbourne. “You were only married for five years.”