What’s a Girl to Do?. Aimee Duffy

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СКАЧАТЬ Her yoga instructor would be proud.

      With her head cleared, she got her focus back in the game. Jude would have his article on the desk by four forty-five. She could do this. And later, when her head was frazzled and her fingers ached, she’d go out with her girls and drink the well dry.

      Opening a new email, she sent another message to Georgia and Eloisa.

       The bitch is at it again. Make mine doubles.

      After hitting send, she got to work.

      ***

      With half an hour to spare, Shey was relieved her speedy fingers and dedication meant she’d get to see Jude’s jaw drop. Three read-throughs later and the article was as polished as she could make it, but she wasn’t kidding herself that it would be enough. Little bitch, or LB as most of the office staff called him, was pernickety and thorough. One mistake or missing word and he’d come down on her so hard that some would think she’d made an attempt on his husband’s life.

      Tapping the pointed toes of her Prada stilettos, Shey waited for the article to print. When it was done she aligned the pages, stapled the top corner, and made a beeline for Jude’s office.

      Storm was exactly what she had expected when she’d landed the internship over a year ago. All white plastic with brightly colored furniture and art. Bitches around every corner waiting to stab you in the back to get on their editor’s good sides. And the jackpot: free backstage passes to fashion shows, exclusive clubs, and parties. God, she loved it. She really did. But she suspected the cattiness was rubbing off on her. When she’d started the internship she’d been quiet, too scared to say boo to anyone. She learned quickly that if she didn’t stand up for herself and grow a backbone, she’d be crushed like a bug.

      Rounding the corner she spied what her friends would call ‘a suit’ talking to the receptionist, Mandy. Shey slowed her steps, taking him in from side profile. That body was built, in a Brad Pitt kind of way, with much better arm definition. Dark-chestnut hair grew long enough to cling on to and he had skin as dark as her own, which meant he was either half-Latina like her or paid a few visits a week to the tanning booth.

      Either way, hot as sin.

      When he turned and she met his hazel gaze, her skin warmed like it was on fire. The white cotton shift dress she’d donned for work suddenly felt as thick as a quilt and she had trouble getting air into her lungs. Christ, the guy must’ve been throwing some kind of freaky pheromones her way. Either that or it had been way too long since she’d had a date.

      His gaze roved over her body from her head to the scarlet Prada’s and he didn’t make any effort to hide his scrutiny. He was a ten, at least. And thank you God! There was no mistaking he liked what he saw, if his wink was anything to go by. Most guys who came for a meeting at Storm were gay. This hottie either swung both ways or he was all about the ladies. Shey didn’t really care which, as long as she was on the list of things that made him burn.

      Pulling her shoulders back, she added a sashay to her hips as she approached him. There was plenty of time to get the paperwork to Jude and, if she could find out something about Mr. Tall, Dark, and Built, she didn’t mind being a little late. After all, who else would he find to put up with his bullshit? She’d been the only intern who got promoted to assistant editor last year. The others would crack within a week.

      She did a little looking of her own as she approached, giving him points for the navy tailored suit, deducting a few for not wearing a tie. Ties were sexy. She could pull a guy over for a kiss with it, or slide it off then wrap it around his eyes while she led him to the bedroom. More points for rockin’ the open collar on the white silk shirt, especially since the skin underneath was smooth and bronzed.

      Determined to play it cool, Shey headed to the reception instead of approaching the guy.

      ‘You hitting the town with us tonight?’ Shey asked. Mandy was one of the few in the office that Shey could actually stand. Her housemates liked Mandy too.

      Mandy bit her cherry-glossed lip. ‘Club Zero?’ Shey nodded. ‘I can’t. Graham wants me to watch the game with him tonight. He says doing more stuff together will bring us closer.’

      Shey tried not to screw up her face and failed. ‘Watching the game, seriously? Like the Yankies are going to make up for months of no dates or attention?’ She pitied poor Mandy and wished she had the balls to ditch that loser. She was gorgeous, all busty and blonde, and that guy treated her like an afterthought.

      A husky laugh made her turn.

      ‘I suppose you agree with her idiot boyfriend?’ Shey asked the stranger.

      His lips twisted up at the corners and a sultry look darkened his eyes. ‘Hell no. I can think of better ways to entertain a lady.’

      Her heart rate went crazy.

      Mandy gasped, but was saved by the phone ringing. Shey didn’t have the same time to compose herself. She was lost in his gaze and that fiery burn scorching through her body. For the first time since she could remember, Shey couldn’t find her tongue. Those damn eyes messed with her head and she couldn’t break free from their spell if she tried.

      He stepped closer and the burn intensified. She was so hot she wanted to rip the dress off and stand in front of an open freezer to cool down. Up close she could see a dark five o’clock shadow on his sculpted jaw. His throat was thick, just like his shoulders. The slightly crooked nose suggested he’d had it broken at some point in his life, but it didn’t deter from his harsh beauty. Shey was awestruck, and so turned on she thought she might come just from looking at him.

      ‘What’s your name, gorgeous?’ he asked.

      The disinterest on his face made it seem like he was flirting out of habit rather than because he wanted to. Even still, there seemed to be a magnetic force between them, crackling in the air and sparking. Those eyes of his had darkened, contradicting his Mr. Cool Man front. No way was Shey going to make this easy for him.

      ‘Seriously? That the best line you’ve got?’ She forced a laugh, but it came out husky, damn it. ‘Next you’ll call my dad a thief for stealing the stars and putting them in my eyes.’

      His brows shot up, but he composed himself in a heartbeat. With a smile, he leaned forward and brushed a kiss over her cheekbone. The spicy smell of him invaded her senses and her skin sizzled with the contact. Her body went hyperactive. Hands trembling, knees weakening and oh yeah, soaked right through her lacy thong. She had to get away from him before she did something crazy, like beg for those soft lips to touch her again.

      ‘Sweetheart, with you I don’t need any lines.’

      Anger boiled through her veins, loosening his hold on her body. She didn’t even know his name and he had her salivating, for Christ’s sake. He was a cocky bastard, so sure he had her right where he wanted her, and the worst thing? He was absolutely right. Next time those lips touched her skin she’d be putty in his long-fingered hands.

      ‘It’ll take more than arrogance to win me over.’ Shey left the asshole unspoken. ‘I have somewhere to be.’ Without waiting for Mandy to get off the phone or for Mr. Cool to reply, she left reception.

      His voice trailed behind her. ‘I’ll see you soon, gorgeous.’

       Yeah, big shot. In your dreams.

      ***

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