Her gaze flicked up to meet mine, unsure. “Sorry. That probably doesn’t help.”
“No,” I said, my voice lower than I intended. “It helps.”
Her brows pinched together as she breathed in again, this time more deliberate. “It’s missing something,” she murmured.
My brows lifted. “What?”
She paused, eyes narrowing in thought as she considered. “I don’t know. Something intimate to really tie it together. “Musk? Maybe amber? It’s already got a hint of vanilla, but I think the addition of the labdanum and benzoin that make up the rest of amber scent accord would make it complete. And you knowwhat they say— the warm, powdery, sweet scent of amber has a unique and sensual quality. Add that in and I think you got the next best seller.”
“I knew there was a reason I hired you.”
“Oh?” She asked, turning to leave—her hips swaying with her movements. “And here I thought it was for my killer good looks and charming personality.”
I chuckled as she left the office, her scent still hanging in the air.
“Why do I feel like this is dangerous,” I whispered to myself.
Empty platters of sushi, perfume samplers, and crumpled pieces of paper littered the table, the remnants of a night that had stretched far longer than anticipated. The soft glow of the dimmed lights cast long shadows over the scattered notes—ideas for marketing campaigns, sketches of new scents, and lists of celebrities and influencers I needed to contact. And with only a few more weeks until the launch, time was not on my side.
Unfortunately for her, that meant Harper was staying late, too—losing sleep to my schedule, to this office, to a job she had the sense to leave hours ago. But she hadn’t.
She sat across from me, curled up in her chair, sipping on a beer.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” I started, my voice low. My bottle hovered between my fingers as I gestured toward her barren ring finger. “Is there a story?”
Harper followed my gaze, her hand settling against her thigh. A quiet breath escaped her, shoulders falling like she had beenhurt and was too proud to show it. “Well, I thought I knew someone, and as it turns out, I didn’t know them at all. You know, you think you know everything about someone after spending years together. Apparently, I missed the note on him taking his assistants on business trips, you know—the sexy kind. I mean come on,” she laughed, shaking her head as she took another sip, “it’s such acliché! Who even does that anymore?”
A pang of guilt nestled in my chest but was quickly taken over by my own jealousy—anger. That someone could be so close to having her, only to throw her away.
I scoffed, taking another deliberate sip of my beer, letting the bitterness curl over my tongue. “Some men,” I murmured, “have no idea the luxuries they hold in their hands. Especially human ones.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, a challenge glinting behind them. “You don’t need to flatter me, sir.”
Flatter her?
If only she knew. My gaze drifted to her mouth, lingering—too long. Her lips parted slightly, and when her tongue darted out to wet them, I felt it. Heat. A slow smoldering, the raking feeling of my pheromones fighting to escape. “I’m not flattering you,” I said slowly. “I’m simply astonished you can look in the mirror every morning and still believe that what I say is anything but the truth.”
She squirmed in her chair, suddenly finding the window very interesting.
If only she knew how much I wanted to bend her over my desk, show her exactly how she deserved to be worshiped.
“So,” I murmured, setting down my bottle, “tell me. What is it, then? Your perfect love. You’ve told me about the worst… now give me the dream.”
She hesitated, her fingers wrapping around the neck of her beer bottle a little too hard. “It’s stupid,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I am intrigued.”
Her eyes flicked to mine as if assessing whether or not I would laugh before she finally answered. “You know in those romance movies where she is leaving because the guy was a total fool? Where he runs after her right as she is about to board the plane in one big grand gesture for everyone to see, because all he cares about is her. Not what people think, or all the ways they might not work, because all he needs is one chance. It’s stupid, but that is what I want. A completely hopeless, stupid kind of love.”
“And you don’t think you will find it?”
She looked up from her own beer, her eyes dancing between mine. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “Despite my love of fairy tales and happily ever afters, I don’t think Cinderella ever gets the prince. At least not in real life.”
I laughed as I took another sip of my drink.
She didn’t know how wrong she was.
“What about you?” she asked. “Do you have some idea of love that I can laugh at to make me feel less embarrassed about confessing my deepest, darkest secrets to my boss?”
