LITMIR.BIZ

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Or not.

      Maybe she should’ve just let him stay in his office.

      * * *

      Brody shouldn’t have gone out there. He knew it, and yet he did it anyway.

      Now he sat at his desk, silently brooding. He hadn’t been able to touch his container of baked spaghetti for the past hour. It was his favorite, but he’d lost his appetite the minute he came face-to-face with Samantha Davis.

      The surveillance cameras hadn’t done her justice. She was absolutely breathtaking in person. She had a glow of confidence—a radiance—that didn’t translate through the lens. Neither did her scent. Her sweater had left the smell of her floral perfume on his hands. When he got closer to her, he also picked up a hint of what he assumed was her cherry lip gloss. It had made her full pink lips shiny and alluring.

      Brody was suddenly very warm. He kept his office cool to offset the heat produced by all his computer equipment, but it wasn’t enough. He leaned forward and shrugged out of his suit coat, tossing it aside. It barely helped.

      He wanted to kiss her and taste those lips more than he had wanted to kiss another woman in his life. His body had quickly reacted to being so close to her. His pulse raced, his groin tightened and his grasp of the English language vanished. It was an instantaneous reaction. One that forced him back into his office before he made a fool of himself.

      Samantha would never kiss him. At least not because she thought he was attractive and wanted to kiss him. On the one occasion in the past where a woman had appeared interested, it was his bank account, not his body that drew her in. Once she got what she came for, she was gone.

      Truthfully, Brody had enough money for women to overlook the scars. He’d known women to put up with worse for access to the black American Express card. Every billionaire in Forbes magazine had some busty blonde twenty years younger than him clinging affectionately to his arm in photographs. It didn’t matter how old or ugly or unpleasant the men were because they were rich. But that’s not what Brody wanted.

      He wanted more than arm candy or a trophy wife. He wanted more out of a relationship than what he could buy. He might get sex in a dark room. He might get companionship in exchange for expensive gifts. But Brody would never have love and he knew it. It only took one time getting burned to learn that lesson.

      But Samantha gave him hope. She hadn’t reacted the way he expected her to. There was the initial draw of air into her lungs, but there the reaction stopped. Or changed, he should say. Instead of her gaze running over his scars, it had found its focus in his eyes. There had been a softness there, a comfortable warmth in her dark brown eyes. And then...she had smiled.

      No disgust. No pity. No irritation. If he didn’t know better, he might think it was actually attraction. He’d seen the same look in a girl’s eyes as she admired one of his brothers in high school. Or the way his foster mother, Molly, looked at Ken. But it had never been directed at him.

      The problem now was figuring out what to do next. He was tempted to drop the rude act and actually try talking to her. Maybe from there he could consider asking her out. His gut warned him to stay away while his body urged him closer.

      Turning back to the monitor, Brody lamented his inexperience with the fairer sex. The past few years with Agnes hadn’t helped much. What if he was wrong about Samantha’s reaction? He’d feel like a fool when she rejected him. And she would. The work relationship would be even more strained then. So he would keep his mouth shut on the subject.

      But at least the worst was over. Samantha had seen him. The veil had been lifted and the awkward moment was behind them.

      The chime of his email program turned his attention back to his computer. He had a teleconference with his executive staff in fifteen minutes. Not even his most trusted and senior employees ever spoke to Brody in person or saw his face. Typically his employees spent the entire time talking to a red curtain backdrop while he sat to the side. He could’ve just called a conference call, but he liked to see their faces during meetings. He could get so much more from their expressions than just their voices.

      Before the meeting started, he needed the agenda and financial reports he’s asked Samantha to pull together earlier.

      Brody reached out to press the speaker button and hesitated. There was absolutely no reason to go out to Samantha’s desk aside from the fact that he wanted to see her again. He almost wished she had recoiled in horror so he could return to focusing on his work instead of the sway of her hips as she walked.

      Perhaps he’d read her reaction wrong. She might just have a good poker face. If he went out there and she avoided looking at him...if she shied away from his scarred hand...then he could return to his life in progress and know all was right with the world again. Yes, that was why he was going out there.

      He pushed away from his desk and walked past the vintage pinball machine to the door. His hand rested on the knob for a few moments before he worked up the nerve to turn it. Earlier, he’d been angry and hadn’t thought before he reacted. Now he couldn’t shut his brain off long enough to make his wrist rotate. What if he was wrong? He didn’t want to be wrong, but what would he do if she was attracted to him?

      “Coward,” he cursed at himself and forced his way into the reception area.

      Samantha immediately shot to attention at her desk. She looked at him with wide-eyed surprise as he came out and approached her desk. Under the initial shock was a bit of apprehension. Her delicate brow furrowed as she fought a concerned frown. Was she afraid of him? She wouldn’t be the first, although he hated to think so.

      “Is s-something wrong, Mr. Eden?” Samantha leaped up from her chair, nervously straightening her blouse and fidgeting with a ring on her right hand. “I apologize for earlier, sir. That was unprofessional of me. You’ll come out of your office when you want to.”

      That explained it. She thought he was mad over her little stunt. She had probably been stewing at her desk, worrying she was about to get fired while he was thinking of kissing her. That only proved how far off base he was. He hadn’t been thrilled at the time, but it was just as well that they got over that first hurdle. She wasn’t about to be fired. Nor, sadly, was she about to be kissed. Brody shook his head dismissively. “No apology is necessary, Miss Davis.”

      She breathed a soft sigh of relief and every tense muscle in her body seemed to uncoil at his words. He couldn’t help but notice every detail of her body from the slight movement of her full breasts as she breathed to the curve of her throat.

      “Sam, please,” she said, distracting him from surveying her body.

      Sam. He liked that. There was something sassy and decidedly feminine about the nickname despite its traditionally masculine use. “I should’ve come out sooner. I’m very busy.”

      Sam nodded with understanding, but his excuse sounded lame to his own ears, so he figured it had to seem hollow to her, as well. “Of course.” She reached down to a file on her desk and handed it to him with a wide smile. “Here’s the report for your one o’clock meeting.”

      Brody froze in place, momentarily entranced by the stunning beauty of her smile. Full, pink lips. Dazzling white teeth. It seemed so sincere, begging him to trust her. It lit up her face, making her even more attractive. His foster mother had always insisted that he was so handsome when he smiled. He never believed Molly—moms had to say things like that—but it was never a truer statement than with Sam.

      He reached out and took the file from her, tucking it under his arm. At this point, he knew he should return to his office, but something kept him anchored to the spot. He wanted to stay. His mind raced for an excuse.

      Brody sucked at small talk, so he wouldn’t even try. Instead, he thrust his hand into his pants pocket and found his USB flash drive there. The tiny memory stick held most of his important files, and he carried it with him everywhere he went. It was perfect, he realized. Just the thing he needed to help him figure out if his new secretary was sincere or a really good actress.

      Grasping the flash drive in his

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