I turn toward the beautiful door, wondering what the hell is about to happen.
Have I completely lost my mind? Am I really going to have sex with this guy?
I startle as a buzzer sounds on the desk in front of me.
“Come in, please, Miss Brooks.” It’s a low, rumbling voice, and I shiver as I walk toward the door.
Opening it, I’m met with a wide, cavernous office, minimalistic in the extreme. There’s a white desk ahead of me made up of shiny metal and glass. The carpet is pale gray, the furnishings creams and whites, giving the impression of an almost heavenly space.
There is a large bookshelf on the left, with the books cascading in height. It looks as if they’ve had new covers printed to match the style of the room.
This guy sure likes his clean lines.
I close the door behind me and finally look at the man I’ve come to meet.
He’s standing in front of his desk, leaning casually against it, but he rises to his feet when I walk in. He’s enormous, almost 6’5 and broad. I can tell by the tight fit of his perfectly tailored suit and the way he carries himself that he has a toned, well-built body.
His face looks younger than I expected. I’ve been told that he’s thirty-nine, but other than some horizontal lines on his forehead, he seems young for his age.
Dark brown eyes follow me as I step into the room. His chin is angular and sharp, completely clean of stubble, hair closely cut and styled beautifully, streaked with gray, giving him a distinguished, icy facade.
I try my best not to stumble as I come to stand in front of him.
What must he think of me in my mom’s suit? I look like a fucking amateur.
Those dark eyes are assessing, moving over me in a languid way that sends another shiver down my spine. My hands are shaking. I’m so nervous, but I force myself to meet his gaze.
“So, you’re Amelia Brooks,” he says, with a smirk. “Would you be so kind as to come here and bend over my desk?”
Chapter 4
Amelia
Idon’t move for what can only be a few seconds, but it feels like an hour.
Excuse me? Did he just say what I think he said?
Sterling House hadn’t mentioned anything about the interview actually involving sex. I‘d expected to do that in a few days or next week even, once I’d gotten settled in. Not within a minute of walking through the door.
Shit.
Mr. Crawford cocks his head to one side, putting his hands in his pockets, perhaps sensing my unease.
“On second thought, stay where you are for a sec. I want to have a look at you first.”
I force my body not to fidget as he walks around me. He’s barefoot, which strikes me as odd. I try not to stare at his enormous, but beautifully pedicured feet.
He circles me once, then stops in front of me.
“Jacket.”
He holds out his hand, and I try to keep my fingers steady as I undo the buttons, shuck it off, and hand it over. His eyes zero in on my breasts. I’m glad I wore the new bra now, because I know they look good in this blouse.
He grunts, laying the jacket carefully over the chair behind him, and then begins to walk around me again. I hold my breath as he comes to a stop at my back; his presence making me hot all over. I can hear his breathing, and I jolt violently as his fingers skim over my waist.
A low chuckle rumbles from his chest.
“Twitchy one, aren’t you? Don’t worry, I won’t do anything you don’t like, I promise.”
