Nick's Trouble

Can't Count

I stretched my hand in the dark corner and probed the floor. No luck.

Stretching my hand further, it finally came in contact with the ring but an unusual sound made my eyes grow wide.

Cloth ripping.

My hand immediately went to my right shoulder and I gasped.

The blouse was already a size too small and stretching my arm had torn the cloth.

Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!

I immediately got up from the floor and turned around to run towards the door but screamed when I bumped into someone, lost my balance and fell, but a pair of arms caught me.

It took me a few moments to catch my breath.

I inhaled the person's scent. It was a mixture of fresh cologne and coffee.

I slowly opened my eyes to find an intense pair of blue eyes locked with mine.

His lips were pressed into a thin line and for a moment, I couldn't take my eyes away. I finally blinked and looked back up into his eyes, which to my surprise were trailing all over my face before stopping at my lips.

My lips parted and his gaze lifted to my eyes once more.

His arms were strong enough to hold me in place and I could feel his rock hard chest against my palms.

Man! Just how much does he work out?

I cleared my throat and pulled myself away from him, taking a few steps back to create some distance between us.

"I-I'm sorry, Mr. Sinclair."

His face held a slight frown. "Are you alright?"

I nodded.

"What were you doing?" he asked in confusion.

"This," I held the ring up in front of his face and he gave it a weird look. "My ring slipped under your desk and I was just getting it back."

He scrutinized the shiny little thing.

"Must be a really special ring."

"Yeah, it is." I slipped it back on my finger.

A frown formed on his lips as he walked behind his desk and sat in the chair.

I shifted in my position to face him squarely, so he wouldn't see the torn material at the back of my blouse.

All I had to do was get to the bathroom and come up with a solution to fix the shirt. And if my brain didn't work, I would call Rebekah.

"So I'm supposed to go to Trent, right?" I asked while taking a step towards the door.

"No." His eyes narrowed for a moment. "Why would you?"

"Uh—he said he was supposed to show me around."

"No, Ms. Stewart," he said. "Trent is a little busy at the moment. So..." He directed his gaze to the chairs across his desk, motioning for me to sit down.

Letting out a breath, I seated myself in one of the chairs and faced him.

He went back to typing on his laptop and I thought he would say something after finishing some work, but half an hour passed and I was just sitting in the same spot, doing nothing.

I cleared my throat to get his attention but he just kept looking at the screen.

Was he doing that intentionally?