Undisclosed Desire_ The Tycoon's Heart(3)

By: Falon Gold

They’re always beautiful women that know the difference between Prada and Gucci, and that’s about all. Ford seems to like his women shallow, so I don’t hold out any real hope for spending time with him that doesn’t involve his computer, business, or dry-cleaning. I’m officially work-zoned in his world, and my battery-operated boyfriend isn’t enough to remove Apollo from my deepest needs and thoughts anymore. So, I will have to find another job or a date soon.

I need more than my fantasies of him can provide, and I want it all: the house with the picket fence, two point five kids, and even the damn dog. I’ve been picky about the men I dated since I left college, which means I haven’t been dating. Okay, maybe I’ve been secretly waiting for Apollo to ask me out.

It’s time to stop waiting and start dating again, beginning with a spa visit and complete makeover at the Shalimar Hotel in Vegas.

With the fat that was hugging my short frame like icing on a cake gone, I can now flaunt whatever figure I got, after I get rid of the oversized clothes I’ve been housing it in. Yeah, it’s time to start looking for a lover, and hell I may even find a husband.

I open the last confidential file on Ford’s computer that he’s most certainly not going to need for any of his meetings this weekend. I stand up, avoiding his stare while reaching beside his desk for my purse and the duffel bag on the floor. I packed this morning and brought my bag to work so I could leave for the airport from here.

“Any other emergencies, Mr. Ford, dial 911,” I say respectively, throwing in a slight bit of humor. I sling the straps of my bags over my shoulder and step around his desk. I intend to bypass him and haul ass to the ground floor, where a taxi is scheduled to pick me up in twenty minutes.

Ford stands up before I can get past him, effectively blocking my getaway. I stop in my tracks then sidestep to the right. His long legs make him quicker at getting to the next spot on the thick, gray carpet. When he opens his arms wide, I curse under my breath. I could keep sidestepping, but I’d be doing that all day. I look toward the glass wall, but my view of the skyline is obstructed, with Mr. Ford and his file cabinet as the obstructions.

“Can I get a hug goodbye?” he asks with a frown, the timbre of his deep voice making tiny campfires blaze under every inch of my flesh.

Oh hell no, you can’t say goodbye! You’ve said enough already, and touching me is out of the question. If I hug him, I’ll probably forget how to let go, and he’ll have to shake himself like a dog to get me off.

“You don’t need to say goodbye, Mr. Ford. I’ll be back Monday morning, not next year.”

He laughs and steps forward, enveloping me in his arms anyway, making my glasses tilt sideways on my face. I reach up to adjust them, then breathe in the scent of his Burberry cologne mixed with his natural manly smell. It’s a mind-scrambling concoction when he’s just standing across the room, but it changes the quality of the air and makes my ability to breathe nonexistent when he’s this close.

The feel of his arms wrapped around me isn’t making things easy for my self-control. I’d consider him a tease, if I didn’t already know that he really just wants a hug. I'm not one of the women who will ever be on the receiving end of his affection. I suspect he sees me as a little sister, and always will.

Well, at least he sees me.

Now if he would just let me go, before I wrap my arms around him, too.

“Mr. Ford,” I say, my words muffled by his wide chest, my cheek resting between the ridges of his bulging pectorals.

Lord have mercy, I didn’t know his chest was this big.

He rocks me just a little bit, making a rush of unwanted desire ripple through my core.

“Malisa, stay with me. I’ll give you a raise.”

I’d consider that too, if he was raising me from his personal assistant to his girlfriend.

“No, you’ve worn out the ‘I’ll give you a raise’ line already. I have more money than I know what to do with. I’m going to Vegas, and I’m not returning until Monday.” I stand firm, quietly, and in his arms, while trying not to add a meaning to his offer that he would never imply.