JAMES
Surely, Leah had completed the paperwork by now. She'd been in the conference room for nearly an hour now without a peep. I was tempted to adjust the privacy partition between us to check on her progress, but I didn't. I had to close the binds or I wouldn't get anything done. If she was around, it was as if every sense in my body zoned in on her. She was distracting without even trying to be. It was annoying. I was certain my instincts preparing for any stunts this bitch might pull. She'd enchanted Jarrod somehow and I wouldn't let her siren call affect me.
I would not notice or pay attention to the way her slacks clung to her round, ample ass or how her shirt clasped tightly to her supple breasts. I wouldn't even risk peering into those doe-like hazel eyes.
Shaking my head at these offensive thoughts, I fought the tightness growing in my pants. I saved the write-up I'd been working on and rose from my desk. I adjusted my trousers with a sigh before striding over to the next room. Leah was standing at the window with her eyes fixated outside again. What was her fascination with that window?
"Finished?" I asked.
She turned with a stifled gasp and then ducked her head. "I—yes." Her tongue shot out to wet her painted pink lips before she met my gaze again, now more confidently. "There's a bear in your yard. I couldn't stop myself from watching him."
"If you are going to let the wildlife distract you from your work, Miss Harris, we might have some problems. I live on a nature reserve."
"I finished my task," she said. "It won't distract me, Mr. Muller."
My cock jumped to attention at the unexpected formality. I curled my hands into fists to ward off the rush of heat through my body.
"You should have brought the completed papers to my office then," I said sharply.
"You could have been more clear with your instructions, sir."
We glared at each other. For some horrible reason, I felt myself harden even more. What the hell was happening? Where the fuck was my self-control?
"I could fire you," I growled.
She crossed her arms and pushed her breasts to the neckline of her blouse.
Christ's sake.
"For what?" she demanded. Her eyes blazed at me with unexpected heat. "I did exactly what you said. If you stopped being an ass, you'd see I am a good worker."
"I don't see that ever happening," I countered. "The day I want you here will be my last."
She visibly winced at my remark, and I regretted it right away. Even though it might have been true—that I would never willingly choose to be around her—it didn't make it any less callous. Besides, it was a bit dramatic what I said anyway.
Before I could apologize, she ducked her head and softly asked, "What's my next task, Mr. Muller?"
The sudden extinguishing of her temper left the air hot between us. She had no idea what her subservience did to me, especially addressing me as such. I shouldn't have let it affect me in any way, but I couldn't help it.
She was hot and cold, equally damning to my sense of logic. I hadn't been so intrigued and infuriated by anyone in years. Everything about this woman challenged me and my life.
I had been to clubs with professional subs, been teased and stroked by them since Marissa's death, but I never felt anything. Not a goddamn thing. I thought my grief numbed me to any form of sensation.
So what was this all about? Leah Harris was the last person I needed to be getting hot over.
Steeling myself, I asked, "Do you have a computer with you?"
"My laptop."
"Good. I'll email you the WiFi password and draft a message to our current and potential donors. We want to let these men and women know what we're doing with the organization and what we stand for. Our website is up and they can make donations there. I'll send you the information. Forward me the draft and then I'll provide the recipient list."
She nodded. "Yes, sir."
My cock stiffened. I turned to leave the conference room but her soft voice called after me.
"James?"
I paused but acknowledged her with a side glance.
"When do you need this task done?"
"I'll be expecting your draft by the end of the hour," I said before doing an about-face and going back to my office, adjusting my tented trousers as I went.
—(—)—
Around noon, I returned to the conference room. Leah lifted her face from her laptop. She looked a little dazed.
I rested my hands on the back of a chair. "Progress update?"
"I've sent out fifty-five emails. One response from a secretary so far. They weren't exactly bursting with enthusiasm to donate."
My teeth ground together. Raising awareness for the mental health of medical professionals wasn't an ideal campaign. Most of the elite I intended to target could care less. Other charities would bolster their public appearances far more than ours. Maybe I should have initiated a foundation for kids with AIDS or something.
"I think I'll take my lunch break soon," Leah spoke. "My eyes are crossing from all this screen time."
"Lunch break?"
"Yeah, you know. That time of the day when you satisfy cravings and get a break from work?"
"I don't take lunch."
"Maybe you should try it. It's good to take breaks every now and then."
Searing my gaze into her, I placed my hands behind my back and straightened my spine. "Fine. You may take thirty minutes for lunch. No leaving the grounds."
I waited for her to defy me. She simply nodded instead.
"Once you complete the email list," I said, "I want you to brainstorm ideas for donation incentives. The more they donate, the better they are rewarded."
"Doesn't a reward defeat the purpose of a donation?"
"These people aren't donating because they're altruistic. They're boosting their image. We must convince them that we can adequately magnify their reputation per the amount they give."
Her brows drew in, puzzled, and her lips pursed in frustration. "I guess there are politics even in charity work."
"Naturally. Politics are involved in anything with money, power, or people," I said. "I expect that list on my desk by two o'clock."
"Yes, sir."
I spent the next few hours responding to emails from clients and arranging virtual meetings. There was one client who demanded we meet in person. Unfortunately for me, her primary residence was located in New York. It had never been an inconvenience before I moved to Tennessee.
Now, I dreaded it. Her office building wasn't within spitting distance of mine anymore. The idea of flying back for a single meeting didn't exactly please me. I could go forever without returning to that damned city. That being said, there were plenty of people who would want to see me if I was in town. Always something to be done.
Just as I began looking for a flight, Leah knocked softly on the door.
"Come in," I said.
She pushed the door open and sashayed in. My eyes momentarily flickered over her figure before landing on her gaze. She crossed the floor to my desk and placed her laptop on a mound of papers beside mine.
"Done," she stated.
I returned my attention to my computer, not so much as glancing at her screen. "Email it to me."
"You said you wanted it on your desk by two. It's one-fifty-seven. On your desk."
My lip peeled back with an insult but I realized she wanted that. She wanted to rile me up. I took a deep breath.
"Email it to me, Miss Harris. I'm busy."
"Alright." She scooped her laptop off the desk but didn't leave.
I finally look at her again with an impatient, "Yes?"
Her stare snapped down to her feet. "Nothing. I'll email it to you."
She spun around and darted out. I couldn't help but watch her round-backside rush out of view. This time, I noticed there were no panty lines. Either she was wearing a thong or nothing at all. I shook my head. This was ridiculous. Why was I even pondering such a thing? She had a nice ass, sure. So what? Many women had nice asses. They'd never fazed me before.
It took several seconds to clear my head and remember why I was looking for flights to New York.
The last time I had been this distracted by a woman, she was chained to my bed. That didn't have a happy ending for either of us. I couldn't drag myself through that again. I couldn't even consider it.
"Business, you sick fuck," I hissed. "This is purely business."