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Demonstrating surprising agility, she’d gotten to her feet and then attempted to perform a tuck and spin that would have her landing into Fred’s arms.
Despite the laws of physics seeming not to be on her side, the stunt might have worked, had Ginger not been so much bigger than Fred.
The paramedics had been called.
“But at least they had fun! And now look at them,” Nikki said and giggled softly to herself. Before last year’s party, the self-proclaimed nerds had been too bashful to talk to the other. But since returning from the ER, bandaged and bruised, the now inseparable lovebirds had been just about joined at the hip.
They would be celebrating their upcoming nuptials in the spring.
Nikki sighed, thinking of her own love life. It wasn’t like she was jealous of Fred and Ginger—nothing like that—but she had come to terms with the fact that it might be a while...a long while before she found her Mr. Right. Which was why she’d decided that Mr. Right Now would do.
Between school and the job, she had zero to no time for anything serious. The problem was that she was, well...horny.
She felt her cheeks heat, but truth was truth.
She hadn’t had good dick in... She frowned, trying to remember the last time she had.
“That is so sad,” she mumbled to herself, and took another sip.
Nikki squared her shoulders. She had never been the type of woman to have sex for the sake of it, but she had needs. And those needs had cobwebs on them. It had been so long since they’d been fulfilled.
Oh, well, what the heck. ’Twas the season to be merry and all that, she thought, and brought the flute to her mouth.
Deciding she needed a healthy dose of courage, she downed the champagne in one swallow and started coughing. Slow down...slow down, she cautioned herself. The night was young and she was in need. And as she waited for the one she’d set her sights on to help clean her cobwebs out, she didn’t need a trip to the doctor because of choking.
Damn. So much for trying to be cute, she thought as she tried to clear her throat of the liquid that seemed to have gone down the wrong pipe.
A nearby waitress quickly came to her rescue and thumped her so hard on the back she nearly pitched forward onto the table. She held up a hand and signaled the woman to stop her rigorous pounding. Then she handed the energetic waitress her empty flute after mumbling, “I’m fine, thanks.”
Nikki hazarded a guess the woman was simply trying to help, but something told her that the waitress was well aware that all that hard thumping had not been necessary. Nikki had caught the waitress checking out one of the waiters who’d been watching her during the collision. Not a worry. As fine as both waiters had been, neither one was on her menu for the night.
She grew impatient after checking the clock. She chewed her bottom lip. It was still early, but it seemed the entire staff of MagHard Interior Design had shown up tonight, and apparently had brought guests, as they’d been invited to do. The office party had grown into an all-out holiday ball, she thought. There were plenty of men in attendance, and Nikki knew she’d caught the eyes of several.
And she could probably pick one to help her out of her...situation.
But she didn’t want just anyone.
There was only one whose dark emerald eyes she wanted to catch. Nikki bit her lower lip again, hoping he’d actually come to the swanky office party. From what she could ascertain from the office gossip, odds were he was coming. She’d overheard a few of the ladies in the secretarial pool discussing that very fact. She wasn’t the only one who had her eyes him. Not even close.
She hadn’t wanted to get her hopes up too high in case he was a no-show, but as usual her friend Tony had been the one who’d found out the info she needed. Tony had inadvertently given her the scoop when he’d informed Nikki that he’d heard it from Wanda, who worked in Accounts Receivable, who’d heard it from Linda, who worked in Human Resources, who’d overheard Sheila, the assistant to the assistant manager...that he was planning to attend.
Merriment made her laugh out loud at the string of I heard it froms that peppered that particular trail.
Max Stele.
Just thinking his name brought the image of the sexy-as-hell temporary employee of MagHard Interior Design to her mind’s eye.
For two weeks Nikki had both avoided and sought to catch glimpses of the temporary office manager. And she wasn’t alone.
Tall, dark and handsome was such a cheesy description, but that was exactly what he was: six feet five inches, two hundred and thirty five pounds of pure muscle, with dark, wavy hair that sculpted his perfect head and mysterious emerald-green eyes with midnight-dark eyelashes.
She knew his weight and height because Molly from Payroll had given her his stats. She had no idea how the woman knew and hadn’t asked. Molly was odd like that—she knew some of the strangest details about people. But this time she hadn’t chalked it up to the woman’s proclivity to know unique statistics, but on the fact that every woman in the office was interested in knowing anything and everything about the handsome new manager.
Although Max was white, his skin had a deep golden tan, one that didn’t come from any tanning bed but was strictly natural, just man and sun.... She shivered and grew warm just thinking of him. Which was one of the many, many reasons that Nikki had decided he would be the one to end her embarrassingly long drought.
She glanced up and saw one of the accounting managers making a beeline for her and nearly groaned. No damn way, she thought, not feeling the least bit concerned for her lack of kindness. If she got caught up chatting with Tom, she’d never get loose, and she needed to make sure she was free when Max finally showed.
Nikki hopped off the stool and looked for an exit, then blew out a sigh of relief when a woman she recognized from Human Resources put a hand on Tom’s arm, forcing him to stop. She caught the frustrated look on his face and knew she’d been right; he’d been aiming right for her.
She felt bad, really uncharitable. It wasn’t just because Tom was short and bald that she didn’t want to talk to him, but Tom thought he had game and was a bit obnoxious, constantly bragging about his convertible coupe and expensive clothes.
Nope. Not even her type, she thought. Not on her worst day. She might be lonely, but she wasn’t desperate.
Nikki began to walk through the crowd, keeping her smile firmly in place as she nodded her head, casually making eye contact with those she knew as well as the many she didn’t. She took a sip from the glass she held. Tonight was all about the happy...and her mission. Again...there was only one man she was on the lookout for: Max.
He’d come to the office after the last manager’s abrupt departure and would be around only long enough for upper management to find and train his replacement. Other than that, no one knew much about Max. His background was a mystery. Not that it mattered to Nikki. She had one thing in mind.
After she readjusted her girls discreetly inside her new, barely-there demi bra, she glanced to the side and saw the one she’d been looking for, Mr. Tall, Dark and Fine himself staring at her from across the room.
She felt as though her stomach had bottomed out. Dear God. Fine, fine, fine...ooh. The man was unbelievably fine.
She shook her head and bit back the groan...hoping he hadn’t witnessed the coughing and the vigorous thumping that had ensued. Not to mention the dodging of Tom and all that talking to herself. She didn’t want to scare him off.
She took a deep breath and smiled. Directly at him. Game on.
Nikki felt her confidence rise as she realized that although he had a gathering of both women and men surrounding him like bees to a honeycomb, she could feel his eyes on her even as he spoke to one of the other managers.
She stared in his direction. Thanks to the champagne, she felt bold. And thanks to the new dress and sticking to her exercise regimen, she felt sexy. Damn sexy.
And from what she’d gathered from her undercover intel, he wasn’t really the kind of guy who went in for long-term relationships.
He was a get-it-and-hit-it kinda guy.
Good.
Because she wasn’t looking for that type of relationship either. Not anymore, she thought.
If the grapevine was right, not only was he a get-it-and-hit-it type of guy, when he hit it...he hit it out of the park.
She squared her shoulders and put a little extra sway in her walk as she began to make her way casually to where Max was standing in the crowd.
Game...on...
Chapter 2
Maxwell Steele-Hardaway, aka Max Stele, had come to the office party for one reason and one reason only: to get Nikki Danes, in any way he could.
The gorgeous part-time accountant had captured his attention from the first time he’d seen her two weeks ago when he’d joined the staff of MagHard Interior Design.
Temporarily joined the staff, he corrected himself, quelling the surge of irritation.
When his mother had approached him to help out the family, she’d used guilt and motherly love, but especially guilt in her appeal to her only son to help her in what she called her “time of need.” Time of need, his butt, he thought.
He loved his mother, but she was without doubt the queen bee of drama. Naomi Steele-Hardaway was also blessed with one of the sharpest business minds he’d ever known.
She ran the family’s business, MagHard Interior Design, with all the precision and attention to detail of an army drill sergeant. She’d launched the company with his father more than thirty years ago, and since his father’s passing when Max was still in high school, the business had earned the distinction of being on the Fortune 500 list, with affiliate offices all over the United States.
The fact that she’d used the trump card of her “time of need” was just her way of asking Max to come home. He shook his head. Scratch that. Demanded that Max come home.
The only question was...why.
Max pretended to listen to Michelle Grimes, one of the supervisors in Design, as she regaled him with stories about the manager he’d replaced while he contemplated his mother’s reason for asking him to help...and searched for Nikki Danes in the crowd of partygoers.
The fact that his mother had fired the last office manager made her request more palatable. At least this time the alibi made more sense. But Max knew there was something more, another reason for her demand for him to come home.
“So if you’d like, we can discuss the changes over coffee Monday?”
Max frowned and looked directly at the woman in front of him. Michelle had been one of the first execs he’d met when he’d arrived at the Austin offices. Lucky for him, the office was one of the newer ones, and outside of top management, no one knew who he was. He’d told his mother he wanted to keep it that way. She’d agreed easily to his demand, which was odd, since his mother rarely, if ever, agreed to anyone making demands of her.
“Sure, no problem,” he said to Michelle, without knowing what in the hell he’d just agreed to. When her face lit up like the Christmas tree, he felt apprehensive. Oh, hell...what had he just agreed to? he wondered as he studied the woman. Damn.
Michelle’s over-the-top flirting, starting the moment he’d arrived, hadn’t gone unnoticed. But he’d hoped to hell she would get the hint that he wasn’t interested.
She hadn’t. Obviously. He knew that part of her attraction to him was the mystery surrounding exactly who he was. He had tested the waters by using his mother’s maiden name, Steele, rather than the family name, Hardaway. But even then he’d added a twist and spelled it “Stele,” just to make sure no one made the connection.
When he told his mother, she’d given him a butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-her-mouth kind of smile and agreed.
He felt the frown deepen.
Damn it. He was here to enjoy, let go and have fun. And not think about his mother and what she was up to.
“Great! I’ll uh...come by in the morning and we can go down to Starbucks. Or we can go to the new coffee shop that just opened up on the corner, near the office building. I’ve been wanting to check them out,” she continued to babble, and it became incredibly difficult for Max to pay attention to the woman. He had one woman and one woman only on his mind.
Michelle continued to speak. “I hear they make a great café fresco and they have fresh pastries, homemade! Not like those made at—”
“I’ll just bring the coffee to our meeting,” he cut in, ending her enthusiastic soliloquy. Hell, if he didn’t, she’d probably have him agreeing to crap he had no desire to agree to, as his focus was currently diverted.
“Do you want to meet at eight-thirty?” Michelle asked.
“I’m not always sure what time in the morning I will make it in. Depending on how late I’ve had to be up the night before,” he murmured, letting the very obvious meaning sink in.
“Ooh,” Michelle said, a bright blush staining her pale skin. Obviously she caught the hint he threw out.
Which was another thing he was aware of—the office gossip that he was a player, a guy who enjoyed women. But he made no attempt to rectify the rumors that circulated, both in the office and out. It helped to keep those at bay who knew who he was...or better yet, knew who his family was—and along with that, knew about the money. After convincing his mother that he wanted no one to know he was technically part-owner of the company, he’d finally agreed to help her out of the supposed bind she was in.
In actuality, his original reluctance at being at MagHard Interior Design had evaporated like steam the minute he’d walked into headquarters the morning he had started and seen Nikki.
He’d been on the elevator the first time he’d seen her.
The elevator had been crowded and he’d kept his eyes straight ahead, not in the mood to make eye contact with anyone. The packed elevator made several stops along the way, letting folks in and out and when the doors slid open, allowing the last passengers to leave, he’d breathed a sigh of relief.
Max had muttered, “Thank God,” only to hear someone yelling....
“Oh, please hold that, please!” a breathy feminine voice had begged and although he would have loved nothing more than to have the last few seconds alone until he made it to his destination on the top floor, he had pressed a finger on the door-open button.
“Thank you so much!” the breathless voice had replied as a small woman hurtled herself into the elevator. Before Max could really get a good glimpse of her, her perfume, light, unique and floral, had caught his attention.
“No problem,” he had said, turning to glance down at her.
She had looked up at him as she readjusted the messenger bag over her shoulder, again thanking him. She had smiled and two large dimples appeared in her cheeks, her almond-shaped eyes slanting, giving her an exotic look.
He had run his glance over her as she’d eased her small frame against the wall of the elevator, her gaze leaving his as a fine blush stole over her creamy brown skin. Fascinated by the obvious blush, Max had continued to stare at her.
Beauty didn’t really describe her.
Her flawless skin was the color of deep milk chocolate without a hint of cream, and was just as smooth in appearance. She had the type of skin that made a man want to reach out and touch her face just to verify if it was as soft as it looked.
Her slanted eyes, although a rich brown, had flecks of what appeared from his distance from her a lighter color. He had been tempted to draw closer to her to see exactly what shade they were, and barely restrained himself in time. Her nose was small, and set above a full set of sexy, plump lips.
His cock had stirred as his gaze lingered on her mouth.
He had forced his eyes away. If he hadn’t, he’d been afraid he’d act on the inappropriate desire he had to go up to a woman he didn’t know, lean down and kiss those delightfully full lips.
She had been dressed casually, in a formfitting black skirt, not too short, the hem flirting around her knees. She had worn a pink tank top beneath a billowy, long-sleeved white tunic, buttoned halfway and tucked neatly into her skirt.
Maybe a little bit on the bohemian side, but not outlandish. Nothing special, but on her it looked sexy as hell. The colors she had worn were a perfect foil for her dark skin, and the skirt was fitted enough that it showed off her small waist and tight butt. Perfectly, deliciously proportioned A.T.W.: ass to waist.
And what an ass she had. Perky, the round globes appeared firm, and he had felt his cock stir again at the thought of what they would feel like cupped in his hands. What it would feel like to slide his hands over their no-doubt silky-feeling perfection. She’d wake up the morning after from a night of hot sex with his handprints all over that butt of hers.
She had just enough overflow to...bounce.
His eyes had met hers, caught them on him, checking him out just as he’d been checking every fine inch of her out as well.
Good. She now knew he was interested, and as he prided himself on knowing women, he also knew he’d piqued her interest.
Max had known time was limited; the ride would only last so long.
“Which floor?” Max had asked, his voice low, guttural, his mind on what he would love to do to her even as his gaze locked and loaded on hers.
The offices of MagHard Interior Design were located in a building that the corporation owned and managed, leasing out the luxury suites in the high-rent district of downtown Austin at a premium price. His office as well as all of upper management resided on the top floor, with the two floors directly beneath for the rest of the company. One floor was dedicated to the design team, the other for administration, including Human Resources.
Max had focused his gaze on the beautiful woman, her eyes downcast as she tried her best not to look at him.
So damn sexy, he had thought. And again his dick had reacted to the visual of the offbeat little beauty. A small smile had tugged the corner of his mouth upward when her tongue had sneaked out and swiped across her bottom lip.
When she had glanced up at him, he had dropped his lids low to hide his eyes. He knew his lust had to be shining brightly; there was no way he could hide his reaction.
She had that offbeat, backhanded, casual type of sex appeal. The type that came as naturally to her as breathing.
