She's quiet for a moment. "Hard to tell the difference when you're not looking at me."
I turn to face her, catching her quickly averting her eyes. She'd been checking me out and now she's pretending she wasn't. The thought sends a rush of satisfaction through me.
Time to play this up a bit.
I roll my shoulders casually, knowing the movement stretches my shirt across my chest. "Got your email about the flights this morning," I say, moving slowly back toward her desk. "Very thorough. Very... professional."
"That was the intent." Her cheeks flush slightly. "I'm a planner."
"I noticed."
I smile at her, taking another step toward her desk. "So about those tickets..."
"Yes, the tickets." She straightens papers that don't need straightening. "When do you plan on buying them?"
"Already looked into it this morning." I tap my phone. "Planning to book them before our meeting. First class is still available."
"Still can't believe you're dropping that kind of money just to people-watch in an airport lounge."
"Worth every penny. "
She stands abruptly, circling her desk with a file folder clutched to her chest like armor. When she reaches the front, she perches on the edge, crossing her legs at the ankle. The movement draws my eyes down to her heels, then back up. Her dress hugs her curves in a way that makes professional thoughts nearly impossible.
"Sebastian." Her voice has a warning note.
"Charlie." I mimic her tone, moving closer still.
Now I'm standing directly in front of her, close enough that I can smell her perfume. It’s something light with hints of vanilla, I think. She has to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact, which puts her at a disadvantage she clearly doesn't appreciate.
"I feel obligated to remind you that this fake relationship doesn't start until Sunday." Her voice is steady, but her fingers fidget with the edge of the folder. "At the airport. When we're officially on family vacation time."
"Is that in the contract? I must have missed that clause."
She narrows her eyes. "There's no contract."
"Exactly."
She inhales sharply. "The office is off-limits."
"We're the only ones here."
"That's not the point."
I lean in slightly. "Then what is the point, Shortcake?"
"The point is—" She stops, swallows. "The point is we need clear boundaries."
I can't help it and my eyes drift to her lips, remembering how they felt against mine. How soft and responsive they are. How she'd leaned into me for a moment before pulling back.
"About last night..." I keep my voice low.
"What about it?"
"I've been thinking about something."
Her breath catches. "Sebastian—"
"You're still calling me Sebastian."
