Free Sweet Surrendering by Chelsea M. Cameron

comfort, even though he was almost completely silent.
    He followed me all the way to my desk and I was about to snap at him to stop following me, but then I realized I hadn’t showed him to his desk.
    Get your head in the game, Clarke.
    I set down my coffee and the bag of pastries.
    “Your, um, desk is right over there,” I said, pointing to the desk that was right in the middle of the hallway across from my office. Granted, I had a door in between us, but I almost never closed it (BLB, Before Lucas Blaine) unless I needed privacy, and that was rare. So basically, we’d be facing each other. All day. Every day.
    Those stormy eyes would be staring at me for at least forty hours a week. More if we had a big project to work on.
    He faced me and walked backwards to his desk with a come hither smile. He wasn’t making this easy. Well, I could make it hard.
    Head in the game, Clarke.
    I tried to snap my spine straight and made sure my heels made the maximum amount of noise as I crossed the space between us and started explaining everything.
    We did have a dedicated person whose job it was to train new employees, but I was a bit of a control freak and I’d rather teach him once and have him do it the way I wanted, than have to spend time making him unlearn one way and relearn my way.
    This meant there was a lot of leaning over his shoulder and trying not to breathe in his scent too much, or let our faces get close when he turned to ask me a question. I’m pretty sure he did that on purpose, along with leaning back in his chair and bumping into me, and the half-dozen chest grazes.
    It was evident within a few minutes that he was smart, he learned fast and he could remember it. I’d had a little hope that he’d turn out to be a moron, but he was sharp and took everything I could throw at him. I needed some space, so I started him out with the task of going through my inbox and flagging anything that might be important and deleting all the chain emails that were against company policy, but still seemed to make the rounds anyway.
    “I’ve got this, boss,” he said with another smirk as I walked back to my desk and I could feel his searing gaze on my ass. I tossed my hair back and closed the door behind me, breathing a small sigh of relief before going for my coffee and belated breakfast.
     

     
    An hour later I was knee deep in approving a presentation and wondering why it was that the people I worked with could speak html and CSS, but not English when there was a knock at my door. Wonder who that could be?
    I crumpled the empty pastry bag and shoved it in the trash bin before answering. For some reason I didn’t want him to know I’d binged and eaten everything due to the fact that he stressed the hell out of me.
    “Yes?” I kept my voice calm and cool and glued my eyes to the computer screen before the doorknob turned and he poked his head in.
    “I’m sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to know if you needed anything. Coffee, or . . .” he trailed off with a smile. Bad boy.
    “I think I’m all set for now, but thank you. How are the emails coming?” I pretend to type something on the computer so I had an excuse not to look at his face. His freckles were especially cute today.
    “You seem to have a lot of spam coming in, so I reconfigured your filters. I hope you don’t mind.” That made me look up. I hadn’t messed with that in months, and not since the last software upgrade. You’d think, living my entire life inside this company, I would be on top of something like that.
    “Oh, thank you. Yeah, I have noticed a lot of funny stuff getting through, but I’ve been so swamped I haven’t been able to deal with it.”
    He gave me a smile and it was like I’d given him another gold star.
    “You’re welcome. Anytime. Just let me know if or when you need something, Miss Clarke.” He managed to make the last part sound just a little bit dirty.
    “Thank you, Mr. Blaine.” I called my last assistant Sal, but