Free Love Is Louder by Antoinette Candela, Paige Maroney Page A

smiles, and that’s when the scent of her perfume, something lightly spicy and expensive, infiltrates my heightened senses.
    I shrug and start to back away, even though I can’t help staring at her lips. I’m aware my sense of control is directly proportionate to the distance between us. I pride myself on my self-control, my tenacity, and my ability to get the job done, but when it comes to a beautiful woman like the one standing in front of me, my control is nearly nonexistent.
    “Yes.” I cringe a little, thinking about the amount of cases that has piled on my desk in the past few weeks. One in particular.
    “I realize we have a ton of cases. Don’t think I don’t feel it too, James. We’re a team, remember?” She gives my forearm a little squeeze.
    Irrationally, I want nothing more for her hands to squeeze another part of my body, which would do wonders in relieving some of the tension building in my neck and shoulders. I squirm a little, praying she hasn’t read my expression or my mind.
    “Some of these cases are becoming tedious.” I scowl and focus on my framed Harvard degree hanging on my wall and not her and the way my body and my mind seem to go fucking haywire at her simple touch and smell. “A waste of time.”
    “I’m here for you if you need anything.” I still for a moment. Her appeasing voice makes my body coil in anticipation. “As a friend,” she murmurs seductively with a hint of a smile.
    I scratch the side of my jaw to mask my unease and tension that have gathered in my chest from the blind sexual energy she gives off. I glance away at the files to get my mind back on track.
    “Thanks.”
    Having trouble doesn’t begin to describe what I’m dealing with. Hell no. I need to be more careful. Otherwise, I could lose everything I’ve worked for all these years. The last thing I want is the Fleming name involved in some scandal. This isn’t an option. It never was and never will be. Damage control. Mother made sure of that when I was a kid, so now, I hate to say it, but I may need to rip a page out of Mother’s book.
    An hour later after the meeting wraps up, I decide to leave the office an hour early. I have to get away from Lisa before I actually shove her into my office, rip every piece of damn expensive fabric off her sinful body, and slam her against the wall. She’s making things too easy and excruciatingly complicated simultaneously.
    My hands are sweating as I grip the steering wheel, and my heart thrums in my chest thinking about all the things Lisa would allow me to do to her. She won’t say no to me. That is more than crystal clear.
    Out of frustration, I slam the breaks at the red light, grab my cell from my jacket, and slowly dial my mother’s number, deciding at the last minute to pay her a visit. I can’t go home to Brie like this. I listen to the phone ring, committing myself to the fact I’m running away and acting like a coward, but I won’t change a damn thing about how I handle things. I do have moments where I hate the person I’ve become, like right now.
    Mother answers on the first ring. I let her know I’ll be over in ten minutes. I press the gas on the Range Rover when the light turns green, listening as she asks if Brie is coming along. Dissatisfaction drips like acid from her every word, burning a hole in my heart. I reply with a no and hang up, throwing the phone onto the passenger seat.
    Is this how it’s always going to be? Will my mother ever stop trying to meddle in my life and just be happy for me?
    The way my mother approaches the women that have come and gone in my life is one aspect of her personality I despise. Perhaps she doesn’t want me to end up with someone like her, whose entire existence hinges on my father and what he’s accomplished and created. She doesn’t have goals or interests of her own, so she’s focused her attention on my life and career, as well as my father’s career at Fleming Financial.
    Behind all the façade of