Hero: Rob Coleman. Millionaire.Thirty-six. Likes to follow heroine to get coffee every day at the same time. It’s not creepy stalker, but hot and sexy stalker.

Heroine: Ella Lachlan. Twenty-four and just starting out in the world. Secretly fantasizes about Rob every day while getting coffee. She wears short skirts for him.

 

She’d made a coffee run to the cart in her office building’s lobby every workday at two-thirty for the two weeks. He’d shown up for the last four days. He never spoke. Never acknowledged her except with a slight nod of his head. But no matter where she was in line, he’d somehow end up behind her, standing close enough to send every cell into a wild dancing frenzy inside her. Just inches away until the heat of his body seeped through his suit and her short skirt, straight into her skin.

The unrelenting attention didn’t scare her. She knew this was about attraction and not a threat. Call it instinct, something innate and primal.

He was careful not to touch her, even as every inch of her, every part of her mind and body, craved it. But he watched. She’d catch his heated gaze traveling down her legs as she picked up her order and walked away. See him peek over the rim of his cup or sneak a quick look as he pushed the buttons on his phone. He pretended indifference on the outside even as an unseen energy arced and crackled between them.

Skipping ahead…

"I’m buying."   His husky tone blew across the back of her neck.

They were the first words he’d ever said to her. Her breath caught in her throat in response. It whooshed out again a second later when he leaned in, his mouth close to her hair as he reached around her to drop a twenty on the counter.

"She’ll have an iced coffee, room for milk.   I’ll have the same but black is fine. I prefer mine dark and rough," he said to the barista, who scurried to fill the order. The words skated down Ella’s spine. He sounded as good as he looked and the sensual undertone had her shifting her weight to keep from spinning around. She finally found her voice.

"How did you-"

"I pay attention."

Skipping ahead….

She’d worn the outfit for him.

In her rich fantasy life she often picked her clothes by imagining him ripping each piece back off. Just that morning she opened her drawer and ran her hand over lacy white panties and the matching bra, picturing what his expression might be as she eased her blouse open to give him a peek underneath.

The bell dinged and after a quick hello to the businesswoman exiting the elevator, he ushered Ella inside. By the time the doors closed, trapping them alone together, a pulsing need hummed through her body. Her ears buzzed and her head danced. When she looked down she could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest as the air rushed in and out.

"Are you afraid of me?" He asked the question from his spot next to her at the back of the elevator. His free hand wrapped around the bar running behind them, with his fist just grazing her hip.

She tried to swallow but couldn’t. "Should I be?"

He stared at her in the reflection in the closed doors, his eyes serious. "Never." Without thinking, her gaze traveled to his fingers again. No ring. No tan line.

"But you are shaking." His open hand went to where she held the coffee cup.

She hadn’t heard the ice jingling until his fingers closed over hers. "I must be cold," she said, trying to find any excuse other than the truth of her attraction.

He turned to stare at her, his gaze caressing the side of her face. "Are you? Is the temperature sending this fine tremor racing through you?" His finger traced her jawline. "Is that what’s stealing your breath?" The fingertip slipped down to her collarbone. "Pushing your breasts against your blouse?"

Her fingers tightened on the cup.

Skipping ahead…

"Well, Ella. If you can take your full fifteen minute break tomorrow, I’ll meet you on the elevator at two-thirty."

She glanced up at the black dome on the ceiling of the elevator, the same one she always assumed housed a camera, and wondered if the security guys in the basement could hear them. Keeping the stranglehold on her cup, she stepped out of the car and into the hallway beside him.

Neither of them moved as the doors shut behind them. She stared at the pointy toes of her pumps, feeling the intensity of his gaze on her face.

"Well?" he asked.

"Okay."

She looked up in time to see him nod. Without saying a word, he crossed in front of her to go to the left side of the office floor. Shoulders back and head up, he walked with the precision of someone sure of his place in the world.

Before he vanished from sight, she found the word she needed. "Why?"

At the sound of her voice, he turned around. "Excuse me?"

"Why do we need the extra fifteen minutes tomorrow?"

That start of a smile broke into a full grin. "Think about it, Ella." Then he slipped around the corner and was gone.

She doubted she’d be able to think of anything but him for the next twenty-four hours.

Down to Business by HelenKay Dimon is a short novella (50ish pgs) that I enjoyed. Goodreads l Kindle l Nook.