I didn't knock and stepped inside, closing the outer door quietly behind me. A quick look towards Suzanne's office verified she was gone for the evening. Sophia had left her door open. I stepped through the doorway just as she looked up from her desk.
A sense of relief washed through me, mingling with another notch of need, the combination unsettling and invigorating. She set me on fire. Her eyes widened when she saw me.
“Lucas,” she said simply.
I leaned against the doorframe, sliding my hands into my pockets, feigning some semblance of control.
“Hi Sophia. You appear to be working late.”
Her hair was tied in a slapdash knot atop her head, loose auburn tendrils falling to frame her face. Her brown eyes were wide and the soft light from the corner lamp illuminated her. For a beat, she looked uncertain and then she nodded.
“I am. You haven't replied to any of my emails.”
“No, I haven't. I figured we could discuss anything necessary in person.”
I pushed off the doorframe and crossed the office toward her. I still wasn’t accustomed to the way the air came to life around us whenever I was near her. She bit her lip and let her breath out in a sigh.
When I reached her desk, I stopped. I wanted to kiss every freckle scattered across her nose.
“Are you here to work?” she asked.
I shook my head. “No, I was hoping you’d reconsider dinner with me.”
She was quiet for a moment. I could practically feel the wheels spinning in her brain. “Lucas, I told you I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she finally said, her tone resigned.
Intellectually, I knew why she was saying that, but I couldn't bring myself to care, not at all.
“At least have dinner with me. We'll call it a working dinner if that makes you feel better,” I added.
She tried not to smile, but she lost the fight, her lips curling and a little laugh escaping.
Chapter 13
Sophia
I tried not to smile. Dammit, I tried. But it was impossible. A smile tugged at my lips, and a small laugh bubbled up.
My eyes soaked him in. Dear God, even his hands were sexy. He rested one
on the edge of the table, the subtle motion drawing my eyes there. They were strong, just like all of him. I remembered the feel of his fingers buried inside of me, teasing me to an explosive orgasm. I gave my head a shake.
Don't go there. Be professional. Stay professional.
“I'll ask again,” he said. “Have dinner with me.”
His mouth hitched at the corner in one of those dangerous, ridiculously sexy half grins of his. I felt my own smile stretching in response. Sanity flew out the window, although I tried to hang onto it.
“That wasn't a question.”
The other corner of his mouth curled up. “No, I suppose not. Let me try again. Will you have dinner with me?”
I meant to shake my head, but instead, I laughed. He made me feel giddy and hot all over, flushed inside and out with need. I drummed my fingertips on the table, eyeing him and trying not to smile. I completely failed. I angled my head to the side.
“Lucas, you know this isn't a good idea.”
He was quiet, his hot green gaze locked to me.
“Actually, I don't know that. In fact, I wouldn't be asking if I didn't think it was a very good idea,” he countered, his gruff voice doing crazy things to my insides.