Jonah didn’t know if it was better or worse that he found her perfume so appealing. Actually, as he anxiously watched the digital numbers of the elevator climb, he began to wonder if it was a perfume at all. The scent was more like a clean, fresh mix of shampoo and a lady’s hand cream. It suited her more than the heavy stink of the perfumes that made his nose twinge. Much more delicate. Like the line of her collarbone that was barely visible at the V of her blouse.
The reflex to glance down her top for a tattoo was stifled by the blue dress shirt she wore. One less woman to slap him with a harassment suit, he supposed. Besides, Miss Goody Two-shoes was the least likely candidate to be his butterfly that he’d run across yet.
The doors finally opened and they took the short trip to the twenty-fourth-floor finance department. As they walked, he noticed Emma’s gaze didn’t wander like so many other visitors. Normally people were interested in the untraditional workings of FlynnSoft. Emma’s vision was fixed like a laser in front of her. Her intensity was both intriguing and a touch disconcerting. Would she be this focused on the financial reports?
He stopped at a visitor’s office and opened the door. The small L-shaped desk took up much of the space with the computer setup and phone occupying one whole side. There was a corporate lithograph framed on one wall and a ficus shoved in the corner. It wasn’t intended for long-term occupancy, but certainly it would be adequate for the short time she required it.
“This will be your home for the next few weeks. The desk is full of supplies, the phone is activated and there’s a docking station for your laptop. If you need anything, the finance assistant, Angela, can help you. She’s down the hall and to the left.”
Emma watched him gesture, then nodded curtly. Another annoyingly dismissive gesture. The woman just couldn’t wait for him to go away. What exactly was her problem? She was tight as a drum, every muscle taut, and anxious as though she itched to brush past him into the office and shut the door in his face. Why would such an attractive woman be wound up so damn tightly? She needed a drink. Or a good lay. Both couldn’t hurt. He’d be happy to oblige if she’d give him the opportunity.
“Are you all right, Emma?”
Her head snapped toward him, a slight frown puckering the area between her eyebrows. Her green eyes searched his face for a moment before she spoke. “I’m fine.”
The hell she was. But pushing her probably wasn’t the best tactic this early on, so he let it slide. He didn’t have to claim victory on the first day. He’d do it soon enough.
“You just seem a little uncomfortable. I assure you none of us bite.” He planted his right hand on the door frame and leaned closer to her to emphasize his words. “You might even find you enjoy your time with us.”
Emma’s face went pale, her eyes focused on his hand and completely ignoring his persuasive charms. When she turned back to him, she flashed a saccharine smile. Sweetly artificial. “Of course. I’m just anxious to get settled in.”
His hand fell heavy at his side. This wasn’t going as well as he’d planned. He wasn’t sure if she was deliberately being difficult or she was just like this normally. Paul had better be rushing that transaction because his wine-and-dine plan might not pan out the way he hoped. He’d just been assigned the only woman in Manhattan who was immune to him. Possibly even annoyed by him.
Maybe it was just the work environment. It was possible she stuck to strict business protocol and the casual interactions he was used to made her uncomfortable. All the better to get her away from the office, then. Give her the chance to let her hair down, kick off those heels and relax. He’d drop the dinner invitation, then leave her alone for the rest of the afternoon to stew over the possibilities. The anticipation alone would do a great deal of the work for him.
He glanced at his watch to lay it on thick. “I’d love to talk to you some more about your assignment, but I’m afraid I have a meeting in a few minutes. Would you be interested in having dinner with me tomorrow night?”
“No.”
Jonah opened his mouth to suggest a restaurant and stopped cold. Had she just said no? That couldn’t be right. “What?”
Her pale skin flushed pink and her eyes grew wide for a moment as she seemed to realize her mistake. “I mean no, thank you,” she corrected, turning on her heel and disappearing into her new office with a swift click of the door.
The following morning, Emma met Harper at the twenty-third-floor coffee bar before work. She’d barely slept the night before and was seriously in need of some caffeine.
“You look like hell,” Harper said, always the honest one. When they’d first met at the sorority house, Emma wasn’t quite sure what to think of her. Now she’d come to appreciate her candor. Most of the time.
“Thanks. Good morning to you, too.”
They got into line and waited to place their orders. “What’s wrong?” Harper asked.
“I just didn’t sleep well last night.”
Harper nodded and took a step forward to call out her customized coffee to the guy at the counter. Emma watched her, her brain trying to decide what she wanted to drink, but it simply refused to function like it should. She hadn’t slept. Of course, she hadn’t told Harper why.
She’d been in a nervous tizzy. Jonah Flynn. The playboy millionaire of the software world had the matching half to her tattoo. Fate had played a cruel joke. There was not a worse match on the planet for her, much less to father her child. It was just as well she’d kept her identity a secret. He most certainly would’ve been disappointed to see who she was beyond the tequila and the mask. And fatherhood for the most elusive bachelor in the five boroughs? Yeah, right.
And yet, as she lay in bed that night attempting to sleep, all she could think about was him. How he’d saved her from the creep. How a thrill of excitement had raced through her when he kissed her for the first time. She remembered his hands running over her body as though he couldn’t get enough of her. After everything with David, it had felt incredible to be desired like that. It was a feeling that could easily become addictive and that meant it was dangerous.
She’d tried to forget about that night and had been mostly successful, but her body remembered. Being in the same room, touching him and breathing in his familiar scent had brought it all back. With a vengeance. In the dark of her bedroom, she could easily recall the sensations he’d coaxed from her body. Not once, in two years with David, had she ever responded like that. It was something raw, primal.
“Ma’am?”
Emma turned to the man at the counter, who was patiently waiting on her drink order. “Hot tea,” she blurted. Although she probably needed the jolt of a black cup of coffee, she knew she wasn’t supposed to have too much caffeine. That was a cruel irony for pregnant women everywhere.
The area was as miserably crowded as any Starbucks, so when their drinks were ready, they took them and their pastries, and went on their way back to their offices.
Harper seemed quite pleased with her new work arrangement. “I can get used to having you working here. I’d finally have someone to talk to. Everyone here is pleasant and all, but most of them have their heads in the clouds or their noses in a computer.”
Emma had noticed that. Software designers were definitely different than most of the people she’d worked with. They were intensely focused, usually not even making eye contact or saying hello in the hallway. They were all on some mission, be it to fix a software bug or beat their nemesis at some video game. That or perhaps they just didn’t know how to speak to women.
“Then