opened her mouth to decline, but when he smiled at her, she caved. “If you’re sure you don’t mind me staying a little while longer, I’d love a bite to eat. I’m not picky when it comes to food, anything will be fine.”
“I’d like to order an extra-large deep-dish pizza with everything on it, and the twenty-piece buffalo wings,” he said, into the phone. “Bill it to my suite, and ask the concierge to leave the cart outside the door. I don’t want to be disturbed.”
Damien ended the call, took two sodas out of the fridge and handed one to her. “Why don’t you tell me more about yourself? I’m curious to why a woman like you is still on the market.”
“Funny, I was just wondering the same thing about you.”
“Are you trying to dodge the question?” He wore a serious expression, but Niveah could see the makings of a smile on his lips. “Are you between lovers or playing the field like me?”
“None of the above. I’m married to my work, and I don’t have time to date. I was engaged last year, but it didn’t work out. We … we wanted different things.” Niveah glanced out the window. It had been a year since Stewart left her for another woman—someone younger, and more adventurous in bed—but every time she thought about their breakup, she felt a pang in her chest. He wasn’t ever coming back so why was she thinking about him? “What do you think of Tampa? It’s nothing like the Big Apple, but I bet you’re loving the weather.”
“What makes you think I’m from the East Coast?”
Niveah laughed. “No offense, but you could be the poster child for NYC. The cocky, bad-boy swagger instantly gave you away, and if that’s not enough, you have an accent, too.”
“All right, you got me,” he admitted, drowning the rest of his soda and grabbing another one. “I grew up in the Bronx. And you’re right about the weather. Every time I come down here for business, I think about relocating permanently!”
They laughed.
“I’ll be right back.” Damien got up off the bed, and strode out of the bedroom. Niveah watched him leave, marveling at his utterly perfect body. Resisting the urge to scream into her pillow, she smoothed a hand over her cheeks and ran a hand through her wild, unruly hair, knowing she could give the winner of the Atlanta Hair Show a run for their money.
Spotting the remote, she picked it up from off the nightstand, and pointed it at the black entertainment unit. Why am I still sitting here watching TV? This is the perfect opportunity for me to break free. Niveah tried to get off the bed, but her limbs were asleep.
Hearing a door slam, she strained her eyes toward the foyer. The scent of mozzarella cheese hit her nose and Niveah licked her lips. Twice. All thoughts of leaving evaporated into thin air when Damien walked into the bedroom and placed the box of pizza on the nightstand.
“Dig in, beautiful. You’ve worked up quite an appetite tonight.”
Niveah dove right in, helping herself to a large, gooey slice, but she couldn’t help thinking the whole scene was a little strange. She was sitting in bed eating pizza and buffalo wings with her one-night stand.
“Cool, Robin Thicke is about to perform. That dude’s got amazing chops!”
“I’m impressed. Most men would never admit to being a fan.”
“I never said I thought the guy was cute. I said he could sing. Nothing wrong with that.”
Niveah bit into her pizza. It was hot and loaded—just the way she liked it, and if Damien didn’t hurry up and start eating, there’d be none left. “Everyone has their weakness, and mine is definitely junk food,” she said, chewing slowly. “Oh, and coffee. I drink five, sometimes six cups a day. It all depends on how bad things are going at the office.”
“You must have a very demanding career.”
“It’s not my job that’s going to kill me, it’s my lazy, dimwitted employees!” Shaking her head, she wiped the oil off her hands with a napkin. “If they did everything they were assigned to do, I wouldn’t be so stressed out, but I’m always having to correct their mistakes and it’s exhausting. I swear, one of these days I’m going to replace every last one of them!”
Damien chuckled. “It sounds like you need a little TLC.”
“You have no idea.”
His hands traveled up her thigh, and Niveah purred in anticipation, knowing exactly where they were going next. Higher, higher, higher dammit!
“Why don’t you let me show you what you’ve been missing?” he whispered, pulling her down on top of him and running his hands over her butt. “By the time I’m done tapping this ass, you won’t have a care in the world.”
Chapter 3
“Here’s the rundown of your morning,” Doris Murphy began, opening her black portfolio notebook. “You have a staff meeting at nine o’clock, coffee with the marketing department an hour later and lunch with Vladimir Butkovsky at noon.”
Niveah consulted her agenda. “I’m expecting to hear from Mrs. Garrett-Reed today. If she calls while I’m in the morning meeting, come and get me. Understand?”
“Yes, Ms. Evans. Is there anything else? If not, I’ll return to my desk and finish typing up your notes from last night’s brainstorming session.”
Spotting a male figure striding by her office, Niveah leaned sideways in her chair, and peered around her receptionist’s full-figured frame. “Have you seen the new guy?”
“Mr. Hunter just arrived with Mr. Russo. Apparently, the two had breakfast this morning.”
Niveah didn’t like the sound of that. It was bad enough her boss had hand-picked this clown to work on her project, but discovering they were socializing off the clock was upsetting. She’d have to keep a close eye on this Hunter character. Her first crack at him would be at the morning staff meeting, and Niveah had every intention of showing him who was really in charge of the project. First she’d make him her new best friend, and then she’d pull the rug out from underneath him. The thought brought a smile to her lips.
“Confirm my twelve-thirty reservations at Casa Barcelona, and give me a buzz when the rest of the team files into the conference room.”
Niveah waited until her executive assistant closed the door before signing into her computer and reading the day’s emails. Knowing she would be interrupted in the next ten minutes, she decided against working on her latest project. Instead, she picked up the file marked “Specifics” that Doris had brought her, and began reading.
Crossing her legs, she settled into her seat and read the document cover sheet. Excitement surged through her. This was the project she’d been waiting for her whole career. A multi-million-dollar campaign that would garner enormous press. Landing this account would not only impress the higher-ups at head office, it would improve her chances of being named vice president when Mr. Whitmore retired in the fall. The position meant long, insane hours, but also a huge pay increase. Enough money to buy her parents a lavish new home in a gated community.
Niveah thought about what she had to do. Her job was simple. Create a
