Page 13 of Baker

Repeatedly.

I had faults. Many of them, to be honest. Most I could conceal, leaving those who encountered me to be of the opinion that I was relatively normal.

I wasn’t.

I was somewhat of a perfectionist. There were many things in my life that could be out of order, but her bun didn’t appear to be one of them. Despite my attempts to dismiss it, I simply couldn’t keep my mind focused on anything else.

She reached for it. “Is there something wrong?”

“Wrong? No.” I tore my eyes from the disaster that sat atop her head and met her gaze. “I had a few questions about the availability of property.”

She lowered her hands.

My eyes shot to the bun.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

I needed to have a conversation with her. I knew myself well enough to realize doing so would be impossible if she didn’t fix her hair. I gestured toward the unsightly mess. “It’s not…” I waved my finger to the side. “It’s crooked.”

“My hair?” She shrugged dismissively. “These things are impossible to get perfect, so I just wing it…”

There was no way I could carry on any facsimile of a meaningful conversation with her hair in its cock-eyed state. I took a few steps toward her and raised my hands between us. “May I?”

“Awk-ward,” she said jokingly.

I raised my eyebrows.

She let out a playful sigh. “Sure.”

I opened the clip that held her hair in place, moved the mound over two inches, and clipped it in place. A quick inspection satisfied me that it was as perfect as it could be. As I stepped away, a wisp of her perfume caused me to falter.

Hypnotized by the scent, I offered a compliment and a suggestive grin. “That’s wonderful.”

She returned a confused look. “My hair?”

“Your perfume.”

“Oh. Thank you.” She curtsied. “It’s shaunce. It’s spelled C-H-A-N-C-E, but it’s French. It’s by Chanel.”

I took every inch of her into view, taking time to pause at the parts that interested me the most. She was far too attractive for me to simply walk in, press her for information, and walk away. As much as I realized I needed to, keeping my hands off her would be difficult, if not impossible.

I drew a slow breath. “It fits you well.”

“Thank you.” She gave me a quick look. “You had questions about property? Here or somewhere else?”

“Here. Do you manage other properties?”

“Have a seat.” She gestured toward the chair positioned in front of her desk and turned away. Her ass was as remarkable as the rest of her. I fixed my eyes on it as she walked around the corner of the desk.

As she sat down, I did the same.

“We have other properties, yes.” A lock of hair fell into her face. She twisted her mouth to the side and blew it out of the way. “I’m not sure where they are. Not all of them, anyway. This is my first day.”

After seeing her outside my office, I had every intention of finding her, determining what she was doing in the neighborhood, and then somehow coerce her to leave before Cash – or any of the other men – saw her. I hadn’t been in her presence five minutes, and I’d altered my plans. Her round ass, narrow waist, perfect tits, and remarkable scent convinced me getting rid of her wasn’t the answer.

I wanted to fuck her into a coma. Afterward, I’d find a way to convince her to ride her bicycle back to wherever she came from.

“Are you here permanently?” I leaned forward. “In this office?”