Lana Keele stirred and slowly blinked her eyes open. Searing light filled her vision. She winced and twisted her head, a mumbled curse tumbling past her lips. A wave of dizziness swept over her; her stomach clenched painfully. Lana froze and swallowed the rush of bile shooting up her throat. Hot daggers stabbed at her temples. She moaned softly.
It was a moment before she realized she was lying on her front on a bed. She stared blearily at the crisp white pillow in her line of sight before rolling over carefully onto her side. She studied the room she was in with widening eyes.
Where the hell am I?
Cool gray linen kissed her skin. Her very much bare skin.
Lana gasped and sat up. A shaky groan rumbled out of her chest when the headache became a vise squeezing her skull. She reached for the sheet wrapped around her waist and legs and clutched it to her breasts.
She was only wearing her bra and panties.
What the hell happened last night?!
All Lana remembered was being in Shanghai’s latest happening club and having drinks with the man she’d picked up at a bar while she’d been out with a girlfriend she hadn’t seen since her college days. She dimly recalled drunkenly kissing the guy while her similarly inebriated friend hooked up with another man. The rest was a blur.
A door opened opposite the end of the bed. A man walked out of an en suite bathroom, his face obscured by the towel he was using to rub his hair dry.
Lana’s pulse jumped. She stared up a pair of powerful, tanned legs, the mouth-watering deep V tantalizingly revealed at the top of the towel perched precariously on slim hips, a defined six-pack, a broad, muscular chest, and strong corded arms that bunched and flexed with the man’s movements.
Holy crap, was the guy from the club this hot?!
The man paused and lowered the towel from his head. Lana felt the blood drain from her face.
No. Fucking. Way.
Tom Sutherland, her assistant and secretary of four years and the bane of her life, arched an eyebrow at her.
“Oh, you’re up,” he said in a matter-of-fact voice. “You’d better get dressed. You have an appointment in fifty minutes.”
Lana’s jaw sagged open as Tom walked over to a wardrobe and took down the neatly pressed suit, shirt, and tie draped on a clothes hanger hooked on the handle. Her eyes widened into saucers when she saw one of her work suits on an adjacent hanger, complete with a pair of matching panties and bra. Tom removed briefs from a chest of drawers and disappeared inside the bathroom.
Lana was still staring at the spot where he’d disappeared when he came out minutes later fully dressed. He sighed and glanced at his watch with a frown while he finished knotting his tie.
“Forty-five minutes, Lana,” he said briskly. “Get your ass into gear.”
Lana opened and closed her mouth soundlessly as he headed for the bedroom door.
“Hey! Wait a minute!” she spluttered. “Why am I in your bed, half naked?!”
Tom stopped and twisted on his heels, his hands in his pockets. Lana ignored the wild pounding of her heart as she watched the way the motion stretched the material of his shirt across his torso.
All it took was one look at his condescending expression for her to stiffen, the familiar irritation that plagued her whenever she was in his presence replacing the baffling feeling presently coursing through her.
There’s no way in hell I just thought Tom Sutherland was attractive!
“Funny story,” Tom said sardonically. “My boss turned up on my doorstep at one in the morning, barged inside my apartment, stripped, and demanded sex.” He cocked an eyebrow. “I felt I had to oblige her.”
Panic slammed into Lana and sent her pulse into the stratosphere.
No. Dear God, please tell me we didn’t--
Anger flashed through her when she detected the mocking light in Tom’s eyes. “You asshole!” she hissed. “Tell me what really happened!”
Tom leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his ankles. Lana’s gaze dropped to where his pants stretched across his strong thighs. She cursed internally and brought her eyes back up to his face, angry at herself for noticing his body once more.
This is Tom, for fuck’s sake!
“The part about you turning up at an ungodly hour and entering my place without my permission is accurate, as was your demand for sex,” Tom said coolly. “You then spent the next two hours throwing up in my bathroom. I sent your dress to the dry cleaners, put you to bed, and went to your penthouse to pick up a fresh change of clothes.”
Lana glanced at the pillow next to the one she’d been lying on, her unspoken question hanging in the air.
Tom sighed. “I slept on the couch. Trust me, I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last woman on Earth.”
Lana inhaled sharply as he turned and left the room. She scowled in the next instant.
“Oh yeah?! And I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were the only asshole left alive on this entire planet!” she shouted after him, a familiar pain surging inside her chest.
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