“I think that’s it.” He leaned back. The piles had shifted from one side of the room to the other. Her rhythmic typing continued. Her finger trailed down the page. She typed in the number, then lifted the sheet and added it to the other pile.
“That’s the last one.” She pressed the equal sign and then pulled the tape out of the machine.
“What’s the damage?” He leaned forward.
She studied the number and then handed him the paper.
“Five hundred thousand dollars? This can’t be right.”
She looked back at the piles. “I can add it up again to double-check.” She pulled the stack she’d just added back over.
Without this amount, Night Blooming would have been around the initial projections. They would need to have everything together if they were going to accuse Martin.
His gaze went back to Natalie. Watching her work was better than hanging out at clubs by a long run, but when she started to trail her finger down the page, he covered her hand with his. Startled eyes met his. A faint tinge of blue had appeared under her eyes. Most of her brown hair floated around her face, framing it.
“You can rerun the numbers tomorrow,” he said, gently. When her gaze flitted to his hand on hers, he reluctantly pulled it away. Standing, he reached his hand down to her.
She glanced up at him before sliding her hand into his. His body came alive, but he resisted every temptation to pull her into his arms. The gentle curve of her mouth was almost too much. As soon as she stood in front of him, he released her hand.
“Let’s get these back to your desk.” Grabbing a pile, he headed out the door, away from her sweet scent. He thought he caught the sound of a sigh as he left the room.
Chapter Six
Grabbing a stack, Natalie followed, too confused and tired to argue. Not that she would have. She passed Chase in the hall on the way to her desk. Her hand still tingled as if he still touched her. She rubbed it on her skirt when she was in the conference room.
She bent and picked up more reports. When she stood, her glasses slid down her nose. Tipping her head back, she tried to wiggle them back.
“Here, let me help.”
Before she could protest, he gripped the sides of her glasses and adjusted them on the bridge of her nose. Her breath caught in her throat. She held the papers as a makeshift shield to keep her treacherous emotions at bay. He was just helping her. That was all.
As if he couldn’t resist, his fingers trailed down the sides of her face. Her pulse jumped, and desire pooled in her core. Papers on the floor behind her blocked her automatic urge to retreat. Surely, he hadn’t meant anything by it. Certainly he hadn’t meant to make her feel desire.
He dropped his hands and took the load from her without a word. She released it, thinking he’d take it and she’d grab the next. Her breath passed out over her lips.
He set the papers on the table and turned back to her. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. She’d seen the look on his face dozens of times. Her heart threatened to pound its way out of her chest.
That was the look he’d given the heroine right before he kissed her. A look that had invaded her dreams where she played the part of Elizabeth in If Only. This was where the music would crescendo.
But this wasn’t a movie. Chase wasn’t playing a character, and neither was she. He stepped closer until a mere breath separated them. Obviously giving her the chance to stop him.
She should stop him. She wasn’t what he wanted. She couldn’t be what he needed. She didn’t want to be famous. But with that look in his eyes and those eyes on her, she didn’t think she could bear to stop him.
The back of his hand caressed her cheek. Her head leaned into the warmth as his hand left a trail of fire in its wake. His gaze held hers captivated, as his hand slipped to the back of her neck.
One last chance to say something. Her pulse raced through her veins. She licked her lips. One last chance to stop this. One chance, one taste, that’s all she needed.
He closed the distance until a breath separated their mouths. Her hands came up and grabbed the front of his shirt. His mouth touched hers, a whisper of a kiss.
Her eyes fluttered shut, and she jerked on his shirt. His lips pressed against hers, gently touching, tasting. They were soft and full. Her heart was pounding so hard she was certain he could hear it.
Her mind swam in a sensual fog. Chase Booker was kissing her. Natalie Collins. His tongue met hers and her knees buckled. It wasn’t just the Chase Booker kissing her, but this man. The one who opened doors for her, walked her to the car, made her feel pretty even with her glasses on.
But he shouldn’t be kissing her. He was her boss. His mouth slid to her cheek and sent a searing bolt between her thighs. She pulled in air, desperately trying to surface. She needed space. She needed to think. Pulling back, she rested her forehead against his.
His jagged breathing matched hers. His thumb rubbed the side of her neck, sending an echoing ache through her. Lifting his head, he smoothed her hair back from her face.
She opened her eyes. His were filled with desire, need and frustration. Her body responded to his, wanting to invite him in.
“I should walk you to your car.” His tone was cool. His hands dropped, and he turned.
Ice water splashed through her, cooling her overheated body. He hadn’t meant to kiss her. Was he trying something for a new role? Had she just been convenient? Or something different?
Jerkily, she picked up a stack of papers and walked around him.
“I’ll do that,” he said.
She couldn’t look at him or speak. She just continued down the hall to her desk. Her eyes burned with tears, but as long as she didn’t talk or stop, she could hold them back.
As she set down the papers, she felt him behind her. His hands rested on her shoulders. She could feel the walls crumbling all around her. There wasn’t a hole big enough to sink into.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” he started.
Her body started to shake.
“No, I did mean to, I just-”
“Stop, please. Just stop.” The first teardrop crashed down on the desk. She felt so stupid for actually thinking a man like him would want her. She couldn’t turn around. She couldn’t see the look on his face. Jerking from his grasp, she went around the desk and grabbed her purse.
Without looking at him, she hurried down the hall. Tears blurred her vision but didn’t fall. He was behind her, but he let her go.
She didn’t stop until she was behind the wheel of her car. She’d been stupid to think someone like him would want someone like her. He’d stopped at the building door and stood there watching her.
She could still feel his lips against hers. Desire clung to her. She’d kissed Chase Booker. It was like going to the sun. She should have known that she’d get burned.
Chase purposely arrived late the following morning. He’d had a long talk with Robert about Martin after Natalie had fled last night. They decided to keep things normal for now, so Martin wouldn’t suspect that they knew anything.
He hoped Natalie had time to get settled before having to see him. He’d acted impulsively last night and moved too fast, but he’d needed to know how she tasted.
It’d been more explosive than he’d imagined. He hadn’t wanted it to end. It shouldn’t have happened in the first place, but he definitely wanted it to happen again.
When he entered Pandora Productions, the receptionist turned to smile at him like she always did, but froze and pretended to pick up a call instead.
Damn it. He’d hoped his foul mood wouldn’t show, but he had no desire to act right now. No desire to force niceties. He only cared how one person was doing today.
When he walked past her desk, she wasn’t there. He stopped in the hallway. Had she stayed home? Had he pushed her too far?