Damn him. What part of stay away from her had he not understood?
Then again, who was she kidding? Saying no to Tristan or telling him not to do something was like daring him to do it. A lot of his success had to do with the fact that he didn’t take no for an answer, and Cree telling him to stay away was like holding out a red flag in a bullfight. He’d charge forward just to provoke her.
Clearly, he’d forgotten who he was dealing with. He couldn’t just snap his fingers and expect her to fall at his feet. And if he thought that’s what she’d do, he had another thing coming.
“Tell Mr. Whitmore I’m busy, and if he wants to meet with me, then make an appointment. And when he tries to make an appointment, make sure he understands I’m busy for the next twenty years.”
Silence greeted her on the other end of the phone line before Shantel burst out laughing. “Yes, ma’am,” she said and then disconnected the call.
That ought to get rid of him.
Cree went back to work. After another hour, she slipped her feet back into her high heels that were under the desk and stood. She’d gotten stiff from all the sitting, but in turn, she was able to clear out her inbox. Now she needed to move her body some and maybe even get out of the office a minute.
Twisting back and forth at the waist, she stretched her back, then reached up high for another stretch. After breathing in and out a few times, she let her arms drop down to her sides. With her muscles feeling loose, she grabbed the two padded envelopes that needed mailing and headed out of her office.
She strolled down the short hallway, and as she entered the waiting area, Cree spotted two men sitting on opposite sides of the space. However, there was only one who met and held her gaze, and Cree pulled up short.
Tristan. The last person she expected to see. Had he really been here for the past hour?
He stood to his imposing height, and her breath stalled in her throat as he buttoned his suit jacket. At well over six feet tall, the man was dressed to impress and looking as if he came to play hardball. Gone were the dress shirt and pants from earlier. In its place was a navy-blue suit that screamed wealth, and no doubt had been tailored specifically for his drool-worthy body.
The man looked larger than life standing there, and it was taking every bit of strength Cree had not to walk up to him and kiss him senseless.
Yeah, that wouldn’t be smart at all. Still, she was tempted.
She swallowed hard as she struggled to keep her gaze from traveling over his impressive physique. Impossible. There was no woman alive who could see this man and not do a double take. Hell, they probably wouldn’t be able to take their eyes off him period.
Yeah, he was that fine, and the suit only added to his imposing masculinity.
Her gaze did a slow glide over his extra broad shoulders that looked strong enough to hold up a twenty-story building. Then there were his ridiculously wide chest and biceps almost as big as her thighs.
But in this suit, every part of him seemed magnified. Except his waist. His shoulders tapered down to a narrow waist. She didn’t have to look beneath the clothes to know he still had eight-pack abs.
And those thighs? Lord have mercy. It was no wonder he was one of the best running backs to play the game. His pants highlighted his powerful thighs and long, super long legs.
Immediately, memories of him holding her up against the wall as if she weighed nothing, while thrusting in and out of her, flooded her mind. Sex with him had always been intense, hot, and beyond satisfying as he brought her to one orgasm after another.
Cree shook the memory free and realized Tristan’s confident steps were bringing him closer.
“Hello, Cree,” he said when he stood in front of her, and the sound of his voice was deep and as sexy as the rest of him.
Cree heard Shantel whimper, and she couldn’t much blame her. This was all part of the power that Tristan willed over unsuspecting women.
His gaze swept the length of Cree’s body before returning to her eyes. Then he held up a thick manila envelope in his right hand, which was when she noted the bling on one of his fingers and more around his wrist.
His wealth was showing on every part of his body, and it all looked good on him.
Tristan moved even closer and lowered his voice. “We can either talk now, or we can have this conversation over dinner tonight. Your choice.”
Chapter Four
Tristan had known it wouldn’t be easy to get some alone time with Cree, and he’d been right. The way she was glowering at him told him all he needed to know. She was pissed, and he should be very afraid.
So when she huffed out an exasperated breath, handed the receptionist some envelopes, and suddenly turned on her sky-high heels, he just stood there. Should he follow her and risk her wrath? Or should he leave and rethink his Win-Cree-Back campaign?
“Go!” the lady at the desk, Shantel, whisper-shouted and shooed him with her hands to follow Cree.
“Right. On it,” he said and gave her a head nod before rushing after Cree who seemed to be speed-walking.
