My CEO, My Desire

"We should go to a bar and party."

I wasn't surprised by my roommate's emphatic statement. Cary Taylor found excuses to celebrate, no matter how small and inconsequential they were. I always have considered it part of its charm. "I'm sure drinking the night before starting a new job is a bad idea."

"Come on, Eva." Cary sat on the floor of our new living room in the middle of half a dozen moving boxes and flashed his winning smile. We had undone our suitcases for days, and yet it still looked magnificent. Thin, haired black and green-eyed, Cary was a man who was rarely absolutely stunning, no matter how may be the day of his life. I could have been angry with him if he hadn't been the right person for me. most expensive in the world.

"I'm not talking about a master," he insisted. "Just a glass of wine or two.

We can

have happy hour and arrive at eight o'clock.

"I don't know if I'll be able to turn back time." I gestured to my yoga pants and my fitted workout tank top. "After timing the walk for me go to work, I'm going to go to the gym."

"Walk fast, train faster." Cary's perfectly executed arched eyebrow made me laugh. I really expected his face to be worth a million dollars one day appear on billboards and in fashion magazines around the world entire. No matter his expression, he was a knockout.

"And tomorrow after work?" I offered as a replacement. "If I succeed in passing the day, it will be worth celebrating."

"Deal. I'm going to the new kitchen for dinner.

"Um..." Cooking was one of Cary's joys, but it wasn't one of his talents.

"Great."

Pushing a stray strand of hair out of his face, he smiled at me. "We have a cuisine that most restaurants would kill for. There's no way to waste a meal in there.

Doubtful, I left with a wave, choosing to avoid a conversation about the kitchen. Taking the elevator up to the first floor, I smiled at the doorman when he let out into the street with a grand gesture.

As soon as I stepped outside, the smells and sounds of Manhattan embraced me and beckoned me

to explore. I wasn't just halfway across the country from my old home in

San

Diego, but apparently on the other side of the world. Two large metropolises, one infinitely temperate and sensually lazy, the other full of life and energy frantic. In my dreams, I imagined living in a walk-up building in Brooklyn, but being a dutiful daughter, I ended up on the Upper West Side. Without Cary alive with me, I would have been miserably alone in this sprawling apartment that cost more per month than most people earned in a year.

The doorman tipped his hat to me. "Good evening, Miss Tramell. Will you need a taxi this evening ?"No thanks, Paul." I swayed on the rounded heels of my fitness shoes.

"I'm going to walk."

He smiled. "It's been a little quieter since this afternoon. It should be nice. "I was told I should take advantage of the June weather before it gets really hot."

"Very good advice, Miss Tramell."

Emerging from under the modern overhang of the glass entrance which corresponded to a somehow given the age of the building and its neighbors, I appreciated the relative quiet of

my tree-lined street before reaching the hustle and bustle of traffic on Broadway. One day soon, I hoped to blend in, but for now, I still felt like a fraudulent New Yorker. I had the address and the position, but I

Always wary of the metro and had difficulty hailing a taxi. I tried not to wander wide-eyed and distracted, but it was difficult. There was so much to see and

experiment.

The sensory input was astonishing: the smell of vehicle exhaust mixed to the food from the vendors' carts, the cries of the street vendors mixed with the music of street artists, the impressive range of faces, styles and accents, the magnificent architectural marvels... And the cars. Jesus Christ. The frenetic flow of

Tight cars were like nothing I had ever seen.

There was always an ambulance, patrol car or fire truck trying to separate the stream of yellow taxis with the electronic wail of sirens at take your breath away. I was impressed by the heavy garbage trucks that were driving around the small one-way streets and by package delivery drivers who braved the traffic bumper to bumper while meeting strict deadlines.

True New Yorkers have been through it all, their love for the city as comfortable and familiar as their favorite pair of shoes. They didn't see the steam escaping from the nests- de-hens and sidewalk vents with romantic pleasure and they don't have blinked as the ground vibrated beneath their feet as the subway roared past, as I grinned like an idiot and flexed my toes. . New York was for me a whole new love story. I had starry eyes and it showed.

So I had to really try hard to play it cool as I headed towards the building where I was going to work. As far as my job was concerned, at least I had succeeded. I wanted to win my life based on my own merits and that meant an entry-level position.

From the

The next morning, I would be Mark Garrity's assistant at Waters Field & Leaman, one of largest advertising agencies in the United States. My father-in-law, the mega-financier

Richard Stanton, had been annoyed when I accepted this position, pointing out that if I had been less proud, I could have worked for one of his friends and reaped the rewards of this connection.

"You're as stubborn as your father," he said. "It will take forever to pay back

your student loans on a cop's salary."

It had been a major struggle, and my father didn't want to back down.

"Damn, if another

man could pay for my daughter's education," Victor Reyes said when Stanton told him had made the offer. I respected that. I suspected that Stanton did too, although he wouldn't admit it

Never. I understood the point of view of both men, because I myself had fought for repay the loans...and I had lost. It was a source of pride for my father. My mother had refused to marry her, but he never gave up his determination to be my father every possible way.Knowing there was no point getting upset over old frustrations, I focused on getting to work as quickly as possible. I had deliberately chose to make this short trip during a busy time on a Monday. So I was delighted to reach the Crossfire building, which housed Waters Field & Leaman, in less than thirty minutes.

I tilted my head back and followed the line of the building to the thin ribbon of sky.

The Crossfire was truly impressive, an elegant arrow of brilliant sapphire piercing

the clouds. I knew, thanks to my previous interviews, that the interior on the other side of the revolving doors adorned with copper frames was equally impressive, with floors and gold-veined marble walls, and a security desk and aluminum turnstiles brush.

I took my new ID card out of my inside pants pocket and introduced to the two black-suited guards in the office. They still arrested me, without doubt because I was very poorly dressed, but then they let me pass. After having finished an elevator ride to the twentieth floor, I had a general schedule for

the entire journey from door to door. Score.

I was heading towards the elevators when a slender, beautifully groomed brunette grabbed her purse on a turnstile and knocked it over, spilling out a deluge of change.

The coins rained down on the marble and rolled merrily, and I watched the

people dodge the chaos and carry on as if they don't see it. I grimaced in sympathy and I crouched down to help the woman get her money, as did one of the guards.

"Thank you," she said, giving me a quick harassed smile.

I smiled back. "No problem. I've been there."

I had just crouched down to reach a nickel lying near the entrance when I came across a luxurious pair of black oxfords draped in pants custom black. I waited a moment for the man to move out of my way and as he

didn't, I arched my neck back to allow my field of vision to get up. The custom three-piece suit hit several of my hot buttons, but it was the tall, powerfully lean body inside that made him sensational. Yet, as hot as all this magnificent masculinity was, it wasn't until I reached the face of the man I fell for the count.

Wow. Just wow.

He squats elegantly right in front of me. Struck by all this exquisite masculinity at eye level I could only stare. Dazed.

Then something changed in the air between us.

As he looked back, he changed... as if a shield was slipping away from his eyes, revealing a scorching force of will that sucked the air from my lungs. Magnetism intense that it gave off grew in strength, becoming an almost tangible impression of vibrant and relentless power.

Reacting purely on instinct, I backed away. And lying flat on my butt. My elbows hurt from the violent contact with the marble floor, but I barely noticed the pain. I was too preoccupied with looking, glued to the man in front of me. Inky black hair framed a breathtaking face. Its structure bone would make a sculptor cry with joy, while a firmly engraved mouth, apointed nose and intense blue eyes made him savagely magnificent. His eyes wrinkled slightly, his features otherwise plunged into impassivity. His shirt and suit were both black, but his tie matched perfectly with those bright irises. His eyes were discerning and evaluating, and they bored me. My heart rate increased; my lips parted to

adapt to faster breathing. He smelled terribly good. No cologne. A body wash, maybe. Or shampoo. Either way, it was tempting. just like him.

He held out his hand to me, displaying onyx cufflinks and a very expensive watch.

With a shaky breath, I placed my hand in his. My pulse quickened as his grip tightened. His contact was electric, sending a discharge into my arm that raised the hairs on the back of my neck. He didn't move for a moment, a line of frown marking the space between his arrogantly trimmed eyebrows.

"Are you okay?"

His voice was cultured and soft, with a rasp that made my stomach flutter. This made me think about sex. Extraordinary sex. I thought for a moment that maybe he could make me cum just by talking long enough.

My lips were dry, so I licked them before answering. "I'm doing well." He stood with economical grace, pulling me with him. We maintained contact visual because I was unable to look away. He was younger than I was believed at first. I guess he was under thirty, but his eyes were much older. worldly. Tough and extremely intelligent.

I felt drawn to him, as if a rope tied my waist and he slowly pulled it, inexorably.

Coming out of my semi-dazed state, I released him. He was not only handsome; he was... exciting. He was the type of guy who made a woman want to rip her shirt off and watching the buttons disperse along with his inhibitions. I looked at him in his suit

civilized, urban and outrageously expensive and I thought of raw, primitive, clawing sex.

He leaned down and retrieved the ID card I didn't realize I'd left fall, freeing me from this provocative look. My brain came back into gear superior.

I was irritated with myself for feeling so uncomfortable when he was so completely master of him. And why? Because I was dazzled, dammit.

He glanced at me and the pose – he was almost kneeling in front of me – still had a once disturbed my balance. He held my gaze as he stood up. "Are you sure you are you okay? You should sit down for a minute.

My face heated up. How nice it was to appear clumsy and clumsy in front of the most confident and gracious man I have ever met. "I just lost balance. I'm doing well."

As I looked away, I saw the woman who had emptied the contents of her purse.

She thanked the guard who had helped her; then turned to me, apologizing

abundantly. I faced him and handed him the handful of coins I had collected, but her gaze locked on the god in the costume and she quickly forgot all about me.

After a while, I walked over and threw the change into the woman's bag.

Then

I risked another glance at the man, finding him looking at me theneven as the brunette gushed with thanks. To him. Not mine, of course, the one who had it

really helped.

I talked about her. "Can I have my badge, please?"

He offered it to me. Although I made an effort to retrieve it without touching it, his fingers touched mine, sending this charge of consciousness back into me. "Thank you," I whispered before walking around him and out into the street through the revolving door.

I stopped on the sidewalk, swallowing a breath of million-scented New York air of different things, some good and others toxic.

There was a sleek black Bentley SUV in front of the building and I saw my reflection in the windows impeccable tints of the limousine. I was red and my gray eyes were too bright.

I had seen this expression on my face before, in the bathroom mirror just before to go to sleep with a man. It was my look of "I'm ready to fuck" and it didn't matter. absolutely no reason to be on my face now.

Christ. Have a grip.

Five minutes with Mr. Dark and Dangerous, and I was filled with nervous, restless energy.

I could still feel his pull, the inexplicable need to return to where he was. I could argue that I hadn't completed what I came to Crossfire to do, but I knew I would blame myself later. How many times was I going to make a fool of myself in one day

?

"Enough," I scolded myself under my breath. "Move on." » Horns blared as one cabin rushed past another with only a few centimeters ahead, then braked suddenly as daring pedestrians entered the intersection seconds before the light changed. Screams What followed was a barrage of curse words and hand gestures that carried no real meaning.

anger behind them. Within seconds, all parties would forget the exchange, which was just a beat of the city's natural rhythm.

As I merged into the flow of foot traffic and headed toward the gymnasium, a smile teased my mouth. Ah, New York, I thought, feeling again installed. You manage.

I planned to warm up on a treadmill, then finish the hour with some machines, but when I saw that a kickboxing class for beginners was about to start, I followed the mass of waiting students. By the end, I felt more like myself.

My muscles shook with fatigue and I knew I would sleep hard when I crashed later.

"You did really well."

I wiped the sweat from my face with a towel and looked at the young man who

spoke to me. Tall and muscular, he had bright brown eyes and flawless café-au-lait skin.

His eyelashes were incredibly thick and long, while his head was shaved. "THANKS." My mouth twisted sadly. "It was pretty obvious that it was my first

times, eh?"

He smiled and held out his hand. "Parker Smith."

"Eva Tramell.""You have a natural grace, Eva. With a little practice, you could be literally KO. In a city like New York, it is imperative to know the legitimacy defense. He pointed to a cork board on the wall. He was covered in business cards and leaflet pins. Tearing a flag from the bottom of a sheet of fluorescent paper, he handed it to me. "Have you ever heard of Krav Maga?

"In a Jennifer Lopez movie."

"I teach it and I would like to teach it to you. This is my website and studio number.

I admired his approach. It was direct, like his gaze, and his smile was sincere. I

I wondered if he was heading towards a van, but he was calm enough at that point. subject so I can't be sure.

Parker crossed his arms, which showed cut biceps. He wore a black shirt without sleeves and long shorts. His Converse sneakers looked comfortably damaged and

Tribal tattoos appeared on his collar. "My website has the hours. You should come look, see if it's for you. "I will definitely think about it."

"Do this." He reached out again, and his grip was strong and confident. "I hope to see you."

The apartment smelled good when I got home and Adele was humming along emotion through the surround speakers about chasing sidewalks. I have looked across the open floor plan to the kitchen and saw Cary swinging at the rhythm of music while stirring something on the stove. There was a bottle of wine open on the counter and two goblets, one of which was half filled with red wine.

"Hey," I called out, getting closer. "What are you cooking?" And do I have time to take a shower first?

He poured wine into the other goblet and slid it towards me on the breakfast bar, his movements practiced and elegant. No one would know by looking at him that he had passed her childhood bouncing between her drug addict mother and foster families, followed by her adolescence in juvenile detention centers and drug treatment centers managed by the state. "Pasta with meat sauce. And wait for the shower, dinner is ready. Have fun

YOU?"

"Once we get to the gym, yeah." I pulled out one of the teak bar stools and sat down.

sat. I told him about the kickboxing class and Parker Smith. "Do you want to come with me?"

"Krav Maga?" Cary shook his head. "It's hardcore. I would get bruises and it would cost me of work. But I'm going with you to check, just in case this guy is crazy. I watched him toss the pasta into a waiting colander. "He's a joker, isn't he?"

My father taught me to read guys well, and that's how I understood that the god in costume was a problem. Ordinary people offered symbolic smiles when they were helping someone, just to make a momentary connection that made it easier to path.

Then again, I hadn't smiled at him either.

"Little girl," Cary said, pulling the bowls out of the cupboard, "you are one sexy, beautiful woman.

I question any man who does not have the courage to ask you directly for a date

YOU.I wrinkled my nose.

He placed a bowl in front of me. It contained tiny tubes of salad noodles covered in a light tomato sauce with pieces of ground beef and peas.

"You have something in mind. What is this?"

Hmm... I grabbed the handle of the spoon that was sticking out of the bowl and decided not to comment on the food. "I think I met the sexiest man in the planet today. Perhaps the sexiest man in the history of the world. "Oh? I thought it was me. Tell me more." Cary stood on the other side of the counter, preferring to stand and eat.

I watched him take a few bites of his own concoction before feeling brave enough to try it myself. "Not much to say, really. I got myself found him slumped on his butt in the lobby of the Crossfire and he held out his hand.

"Tall or short? Blonde or dark? Built or skinny? Eye color?"

I washed down my second bite with wine. "Tall. Dark. Slender and built. Eyes blue. Very rich, judging by his clothes and accessories. And he was incredibly sexy. You know how it is: some hot guys don't make your hormones crazy, while

that some unattractive guys have enormous sex appeal. This guy had everything.