“Ms. Ryan. Do you make a habit of being late?”
There was no delay in recognizing the deep, velvety voice. Her dark lashes blinked with disbelief as her gaze zeroed in on the new partner sitting opposite, at the boardroom table. Six other staff members had taken up nearby seats.Talk about receiving a good hard whack to her senses. The stranger she’d spoken to earlier that day was—the new boss. She’d shared his umbrella, due to a sudden, tropical downpour.
Embarrassment floored her.She’d told the stranger that the new boss was probably a grumpy old fart, a man impossible to work for, and so up himself that everyone’s life would be sheer misery the day he made a show. Her stomach shriveled with the thought. It made her feel as small as an ant and probably minuter, if she could remember what else she’d babbled on about. At that moment, dissolving through the plush, carpeted floor would make her feel a whole lot better.
Repeating rumors wasn’t in her character, and she couldn’t believe she’d actually participated in office gossip. Her body wavered, and filled with warmth. Subconsciously her grip over her notebook and loose papers relaxed, and they dropped to the floor. Drawing in a quiet breath, she bent to pick up the paperwork.
“Is everything all right, Ms. Ryan?”
Demanding her weak legs to straighten, she flicked her gaze toward Mathew. “Yes, sorry I’m late...the traffic. I was with a client. And the rain, it’s raining.” Oh hell, what a statement. It’s raining! He’s going to think you’re a real genius now, but I guess it’s better than saying, ‘I’ve brought a watermelon'.
“We are aware of the downpour. Can we begin now?”
All morning she’d been so damn edgy, now she knew why. Chatting like a mother hen was one thing, especially to a stranger, but to discover he was her new employer infuriated her to the max. Imagine not announcing he was the new boss of Coleman and Associates, one of
As she took the few steps toward the table, under a lowered gaze she noticed he pulled out a chair beside him, and tapped on the edge. Feeling as though her knees were given a great thud with a hockey stick, she ignored his gesture. Instead she slid onto the chair in front of her.
“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable over here, after all, you are my personal secretary.”
She sucked back a nervous breath noticing all eyes were on her. Although it could have been her imagination, one thing was for sure, bees were setting up a nice little residence in her stomach. Pushing upwards from the chair and walking around the table, she hesitated behind the high backed leather chair.
He stood, hand outstretched. “Mathew King.”
She glanced upwards, her gaze rested on his rich blueberry eyes. A clock on the wall marked the slow ticking of seconds in rhythm with the heavy beat of her heart.
She had always thought her son Robert had the bluest eyes ever, but this stranger presented a serious rival.
Snapping from her reverie, she moved her hand in front of her. The contact of a loose handshake wrapped a silly warm glow around her heart. She snatched her hand from his touch, and with reluctance slid onto the chair.
It was much too close.
His woody aftershave purposely dispersed over her, prompting a sharp unexpected gasp. The warm dragging sensation circulating in her stomach certainly didn’t belong there. What was happening? She’d never reacted to a male like this before, ever.
COMING SOON ETERNAL PRESS. E-format and Print Edition.