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He frowns. “I didn’t see Misty this weekend.”

“Did she have to cheer for an away game?” I can’t stop snideness from creeping into my tone.

“Something like that. I’m living vicariously through you. Spill the details.”

Men. If he drew me a picture, he couldn’t be any clearer about the fact he’s only interested in a secondhand thrill. “You’re my boss, and this is an inappropriate conversation in general, much less five minutes before a crucial meeting.”

His smile falls. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just…I’m also your friend, and I want to see you happy. Did he make you feel good?”

I close my eyes. Be short, sweet, and honest. That’s always the best way to deal with Noah. “Yes and no. I don’t know him. He didn’t⁠—”

“You don’t know who he is? Still?”

He doesn’t sound surprised exactly. But his tone suggests he is.

“No. He never said his name. I…couldn’t see.” God, I can feel a fresh flush spreading across my cheeks. “Anyway, he doesn’t really know me. I have no idea why he picked me. He said he’d be back, and he didn’t show. I’m guessing it’s over, and that’s the end.”

Finally, we reach the double doors to the meeting room. Through the glass, I see a couple of people already gathered inside. Thank goodness, this crazy, uncomfortable, disheartening conversation is over. And maybe for a few hours I can pretend that the man I want most isn’t amused by the fact another guy spent Friday night in my bed.

After the meeting, I can go to the bathroom and kick a stall door to purge my frustration.

Except Noah grabs my arm, preventing me from heading into the conference room. “I think you’re underestimating your stranger, sugar. And your appeal. He sounds like a man on a mission, and you’re a beautiful woman. Don’t be surprised if you see him again soon.”

I shake my head. “I told him to leave.”

Noah leans in, his heat enveloping me. His very height and breadth make me feel small, feminine, and lightheaded. Dangerous things flutter in my belly. Even more dangerous ideas roll around in my mind.

“If he got half the welcome I suspect, then he knows you’re not immune. He’ll be back.”

Noah

Lauren’s expression swims with annoyance as she walks past me into the conference room. Damn!

Okay, so asking her about Friday night right before the biggest meeting of her new career was a bad idea. But our conversation, while ill-timed, proves that Lauren enjoyed Friday night. I was pretty sure she had. The feel of her pussy rippling around my cock and her scream ringing in my ears told me so.

I blame my blabbing of questions on my impatience. I’m hooked on Lauren. Totally addicted. Forcing myself to stay away Saturday and Sunday, rather than returning and spending the weekend deep inside her, was damn difficult. But I’ve planned a new strategy after our less-than-satisfying parting left me hungry—and very clear that the battle for her heart, not her body, will be the far bigger challenge. I’m so damn driven that I stayed up ‘til all hours devising a better strategy.

Mr. Mysterious will continue breaking down the barriers around Lauren’s body. As Noah, I’ll start seducing her heart—gently. She’ll fall into the arms of both. When the time is right, I’ll tell her we’re one and the same. Then we’ll be happy.

But her pushback after sex was a shock. She doesn’t believe in happily ever after anymore? Doesn’t want love? Bullshit. Lauren is a happily-ever-after, white-picket-fence sort of woman.

Frankly, she’s troubling me this morning, too. She considers me a good friend. So why is she refusing to dish about Friday night? And why did she throw Misty in my face? I stopped seeing the cheerleader weeks ago. Misty has lots between the waist and shoulders…not much up north. Certainly not enough to interest me for more than a few hours. Lauren acted almost…jealous.

The thought makes me grin.

From behind, Lauren taps me on the shoulder. I turn to find her right in front of me. A sheer gloss sheens her full, rosy lips. The taste of her kiss lingers on my tongue. I want it again. I want her. Now.

I clench my fists to keep my hands to myself. Not only is this not the right place, but it isn’t the right time. Lauren isn’t ready for the truth. After she falls further under the spell of Mr. Mysterious and I guide her into the “R” word—relationship—I hope she’ll be ready to see me as the man for her. Then I’ll have to dredge up patience about springing the “M” word on her. Or try.

“Can you hand me the laptop?” she asks, all business.

With a frown, I reach behind me to grab it from the table. She opens the case and begins setting up with efficient movements. Without thought, I hand her cords as she needs them.

“Handouts?” I ask.

“End pouch.”

I withdraw them, setting the stapled pages in front of her. “You got this.”