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I blink at the typed note, then read it again. And nearly stop breathing. Someone here wants me? Someone who’s gone to the trouble of writing me a note and leaving it in my chair. No hint of a signature or his identity. And maybe the situation should creep me out…but I don’t sense menace in his words, just desire.

I scan the sea of cubicles. Who? Gary is too straightforward. Most of the other men here are older, happily married, or gay. Except Noah, and he has little Miss Pom-poms to keep him warm at night. Maybe it’s someone who works in another part of the building. Tender Forks shares this six-story office suite with several other businesses. Security is fairly lax. Maybe one of the consultants across the hall is sending me a message? The possibility doesn’t excite me.

“Lauren?” Noah murmurs in his sin-inspiring voice just behind me, his warm breath cascading down my nape, making me tremble.

“You find that memo?” Noah asks.

At his voice, I shudder. I can’t help it. I can’t seem to get my mind off a whole night of naked skin and shared fantasies…and inserting him in the picture. “Memo?”

“This it?” He takes the piece of paper from my hand and lifts it.

I reach to grab the page back, but it’s too late. Noah’s dark expression tells me he’s already read every word.

“Who gave this to you?”

I feel myself flushing every shade of red. “I don’t know. I found it in my chair.”

Is he pissed I might be hooking up with someone in the office or so amused he’s about to laugh his ass off? I can’t tell. Noah is a master negotiator. His face never gives anything away.

“Well, you don’t have to guess what he wants.”

My flush spreads wider, along with an insidious heat. “No, that’s clear.”

He quirks a dark brow my way. “Worried this is some psycho? I can beef up security.”

Gnawing on my bottom lip, I glance up at Noah. But I worry my desire is too deep to conceal, so I look away.

How perfect. One man wants me—a man who clearly understands how much I enjoy surprises and wish for a lover. But the man I ache for stands right in front of me, asking questions and offering to protect me like a brother.

“I’m fine. You need those appetizer suggestions, right?” I move behind my desk, toward my computer.

Noah grabs my arm, his grip gentle but unyielding. “Talk to me. Are you scared?”

I send him a rueful smile. “I probably should be. But this is the most admiration I’ve had since my divorce. Whoever he is, I don’t think he means any harm.”

Slowly, he releases me. “You want naked skin and shared fantasies?”

Something about Noah’s voice makes me shiver. “What red-blooded woman doesn’t? I appreciate your concern, but⁠—”

“Can you handle skin and fantasies?”

“According to him, I’ll find out soon. Guess I’ll let you know then.”

Chapter Two

TGIF! I’m more than ready to call it a week. After Wednesday’s fiasco with the short skirt and filmy blouse, I almost thanked the cold front that forced me to wear wool pants and a cashmere sweater on Thursday. Or I would have…if I hadn’t realized that the more clothes I wear, the more comfortable Noah is.

Grateful for casual Friday, I wear no-nonsense jeans, sneakers, and a turtleneck. Only a nun’s habit is more asexual.

I glance at my watch as I make my way back to my desk after a meeting so boring, watching paint peel sounds thrilling by comparison. 3:45 p.m. An hour and fifteen minutes. Replying to today’s e-mails will eat that time. Then… I’ll have a whole weekend to myself.

And I’m determined to spend it thinking about anything except Noah Reeves.

As I approach my desk, I spot a white rectangular box with a big red bow sitting on top of my controlled clutter. A red rose lays across the lid.

My heart skips a beat as I glance around. But I don’t see anyone who seems out of place. Since my desk is in a corner, near the window, this package wasn’t left here accidentally. Someone specifically placed the box where I wouldn’t miss it.

The same person who left the bare-skin-and-fantasies note two days ago?