Paru en auto-éditions le 20 février 2017
238 pages
3.76 € e ebook
Résumé
Mallory Sims est en retard pour son premier jour de travail.
Après avoir renversé son thé, elle a découvert qu'elle n'avait plus d'essence dans sa voiture. Ajouté que son bras continue de coller à sa robe à cause du sirop renversé sur le tableau de bord, qu'elle se sente nerveuse est un euphémisme.
Puis elle voit son nouveau patron.
Graham Landry est le modèle type du "Not safe for work" dans son costume ajusté, avec ses lunettes noires et un regard si sévère que la libido de Mallory n'a aucune chance. Etre nerveuse n'est que le début de ses problèmes.
Sa ponctualité est seulement le premier de ses problèmes. Avec un formulaire rose ( de renvoi ? ) à la main, il est en train d'attendre sa nouvelle secrétaire pour montrer seulement qu'elle peut partir. De ce fait, elle se précipite avec des yeux de biche et plates excuses, sentant comme le bacon et la lavande. Le papier de renvoi tombe sur le côté quand elle tombe dans ses bras.
C'est un désastre complet. Pas à cause de son obsession pour l'exactitude à lui ou son ouverture d'esprit à elle, mais parce que lorsqu'ils sont ensemble, les étincelles qui volent , menacent de mettre le feu partout.
Après avoir renversé son thé, elle a découvert qu'elle n'avait plus d'essence dans sa voiture. Ajouté que son bras continue de coller à sa robe à cause du sirop renversé sur le tableau de bord, qu'elle se sente nerveuse est un euphémisme.
Puis elle voit son nouveau patron.
Graham Landry est le modèle type du "Not safe for work" dans son costume ajusté, avec ses lunettes noires et un regard si sévère que la libido de Mallory n'a aucune chance. Etre nerveuse n'est que le début de ses problèmes.
Sa ponctualité est seulement le premier de ses problèmes. Avec un formulaire rose ( de renvoi ? ) à la main, il est en train d'attendre sa nouvelle secrétaire pour montrer seulement qu'elle peut partir. De ce fait, elle se précipite avec des yeux de biche et plates excuses, sentant comme le bacon et la lavande. Le papier de renvoi tombe sur le côté quand elle tombe dans ses bras.
C'est un désastre complet. Pas à cause de son obsession pour l'exactitude à lui ou son ouverture d'esprit à elle, mais parce que lorsqu'ils sont ensemble, les étincelles qui volent , menacent de mettre le feu partout.
Extrait en VO
We both know we aren’t just talking about a moved stapler or a mishmash of files. As that really sets in, the air around us gets heavier. Hotter. Hazardous.
“Those things always lead to dangerous situations,” he says, his eyes trained on me.
I shift in my seat, the throb between my legs growing stronger by the second. “People do it every day and survive.”
“They may survive, but don’t things get messy?”
“Only if they do it right.”
His chair flies backwards and he’s to his feet and next to me before I know what’s happening. He doesn’t ask that I stand, but he doesn’t have to. It’s implied and my body reacts accordingly to his silent command.
We stand face-to-face, our breathing ragged. Our chests heave with the anticipation, the possibility, of what might come next.
“You are, quite possibly, the most dangerous of them all,” he says, his voice rough.
“Why is that?” I breathe.
“There’s no plan for you.”
“But you’ve already penciled me in, haven’t you, Graham?” I ask, finding the courage to play this little game with him. Being strictly professional is incredibly hard, and this is way too easy.
I can flirt with the best of them in a bar or on a college campus. But here, with him, it’s a game all its own. A level I had no idea I’d ever be a contender in. Maybe I’m not, but I’m going to play the hell out of it while I’m here … even though if I keep it up, I might not be here for long.
“What do you want, Mallory?”
“I want to do all the things you ask of me and do them better than you ever expected they could be done.”
A rumble emits from his throat as his eyes darken. My knees go weak and I grab the table with my left hand to ensure I don’t fall.
He licks his lips and flips his gaze to my mouth. I think I whimper as I lift my chin, waiting to see what he does next. My entire body is on fire for this man, my heart thumping so hard I’m sure he can hear it.
He moves so my back is pressed against the table, our food long forgotten. His hands are on either side of me, caging me in. Our eyes locked together, he leans in, a slow smirk spreading across his gorgeous face.
“Excuse me, Mr. Landry. Ford is here to see you,” Raza chirps through the line.
We exhale simultaneously, a giggle escaping with mine. There’s nothing funny about this, but the energy has to come out in some way.
“Mr. Landry?” she asks again.
“I’ll be right out. Thank you, Raza.”
“Oh, you’re so welcome, sir.” The line clicks off and Graham marches across the room and punches a button. The light on top indicates he’s not to be disturbed.
I busy myself with cleaning up our lunch, and before he’s at my side again, I have everything bundled up.
“Thanks for lunch,” I say like nothing just happened.
“Mallory …” He runs his hand through his hair, leaving one lock sticking up. Knowing what that will look like if we walk out together, I reach up, hesitating for a split second, before smoothing it out.
His hair is silky against my fingers. He jumps when I touch him at first, but doesn’t back away. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing went on in here. I refuse for it to look like something did. That’s the way rumors get spread, Mr. Landry.”
“Mallory, I …”
I get a final look at his face, reach up and straighten his tie as his eyes go wide, then turn towards the door. “I’ll send Ford in.”
“Mallory!”
“Yeah?” I turn to see him over my shoulder. He’s standing by the table, his hands in his pockets looking frazzled. When he doesn’t respond, I place my hand on the knob. “I’ll have that file back to you before I leave today. Thanks again for lunch.”
“Those things always lead to dangerous situations,” he says, his eyes trained on me.
I shift in my seat, the throb between my legs growing stronger by the second. “People do it every day and survive.”
“They may survive, but don’t things get messy?”
“Only if they do it right.”
His chair flies backwards and he’s to his feet and next to me before I know what’s happening. He doesn’t ask that I stand, but he doesn’t have to. It’s implied and my body reacts accordingly to his silent command.
We stand face-to-face, our breathing ragged. Our chests heave with the anticipation, the possibility, of what might come next.
“You are, quite possibly, the most dangerous of them all,” he says, his voice rough.
“Why is that?” I breathe.
“There’s no plan for you.”
“But you’ve already penciled me in, haven’t you, Graham?” I ask, finding the courage to play this little game with him. Being strictly professional is incredibly hard, and this is way too easy.
I can flirt with the best of them in a bar or on a college campus. But here, with him, it’s a game all its own. A level I had no idea I’d ever be a contender in. Maybe I’m not, but I’m going to play the hell out of it while I’m here … even though if I keep it up, I might not be here for long.
“What do you want, Mallory?”
“I want to do all the things you ask of me and do them better than you ever expected they could be done.”
A rumble emits from his throat as his eyes darken. My knees go weak and I grab the table with my left hand to ensure I don’t fall.
He licks his lips and flips his gaze to my mouth. I think I whimper as I lift my chin, waiting to see what he does next. My entire body is on fire for this man, my heart thumping so hard I’m sure he can hear it.
He moves so my back is pressed against the table, our food long forgotten. His hands are on either side of me, caging me in. Our eyes locked together, he leans in, a slow smirk spreading across his gorgeous face.
“Excuse me, Mr. Landry. Ford is here to see you,” Raza chirps through the line.
We exhale simultaneously, a giggle escaping with mine. There’s nothing funny about this, but the energy has to come out in some way.
“Mr. Landry?” she asks again.
“I’ll be right out. Thank you, Raza.”
“Oh, you’re so welcome, sir.” The line clicks off and Graham marches across the room and punches a button. The light on top indicates he’s not to be disturbed.
I busy myself with cleaning up our lunch, and before he’s at my side again, I have everything bundled up.
“Thanks for lunch,” I say like nothing just happened.
“Mallory …” He runs his hand through his hair, leaving one lock sticking up. Knowing what that will look like if we walk out together, I reach up, hesitating for a split second, before smoothing it out.
His hair is silky against my fingers. He jumps when I touch him at first, but doesn’t back away. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing went on in here. I refuse for it to look like something did. That’s the way rumors get spread, Mr. Landry.”
“Mallory, I …”
I get a final look at his face, reach up and straighten his tie as his eyes go wide, then turn towards the door. “I’ll send Ford in.”
“Mallory!”
“Yeah?” I turn to see him over my shoulder. He’s standing by the table, his hands in his pockets looking frazzled. When he doesn’t respond, I place my hand on the knob. “I’ll have that file back to you before I leave today. Thanks again for lunch.”
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Adriana Locke
Auteure de best-seller selon USA Today , Adriana Locke vit et respires les livres. Après des années de relations légèrement obsessionnelles avec des bad boys brisé crées par d'autres auteures, Adriana a crée les siens .
Elle habite dans le Midwest avec son mari, ses fils et ses 2 chiens. Elle passe une bonne partie de son temps à jouer avec ses enfants , boire du café et faire la cuisine. Vous pouvez la retrouver dans son jardin si la météo est bonne et toujours avec quelques bonbons dans les poches .
Retrouvez la :
Elle habite dans le Midwest avec son mari, ses fils et ses 2 chiens. Elle passe une bonne partie de son temps à jouer avec ses enfants , boire du café et faire la cuisine. Vous pouvez la retrouver dans son jardin si la météo est bonne et toujours avec quelques bonbons dans les poches .
Retrouvez la :
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