Page 15 of Hard Deal

I know how you feel, buddy.

Oh boy. That was a kiss to render all other kisses useless. Poor specimens of kisses. Sorry excuses for kisses. So pale in comparison to this kiss that she felt like she’d never been kissed before.

Imogen scooped up her bag from where it had fallen and stashed her phone safely away. But what now? Was she supposed to say something? She resisted the urge to ask for his name and number. The quicker she got out of the ball the better, and the less risk of her getting in trouble.

Then she could get back to what mattered—finding out whether Daniel was cheating on her sister. Staying at the ball would be too risky now. For all she knew, this man would go back on his word and turn her in. Or use her weakened position to blackmail something more than a kiss...which actually didn’t sound so terrible. And that meant it was definitely time to go.

“Well...” she said, her voice ragged and frayed as the ends of her nerves. “That was...”

“Fucking brilliant?” he offered. “Or would that be smurfing brilliant in your case?”

A smile tugged at her lips. “Yes, smurfing brilliant.”

She slipped the chain strap of her evening bag over one shoulder and turned to leave, but something compelled her to look back. A piece of information had set off an alarm in her head—but through the thick haze of arousal she couldn’t quite process it. Something was wrong, and her mind whirred.

Then she saw it.

The blood drained from her face so quickly the world swayed beneath her heels. She pressed a hand to her stomach, hoping to hell the champagne she’d downed wouldn’t come rushing back up. But this was bad...very bad.

Colossally, insurmountably, cataclysmically bad.

The masked man rose to a sitting position, causing his tuxedo pants to pull a few inches farther up his leg. Dinosaur socks. T. Rexes to be precise. Almost identical to the red ones she’d seen that day of the archive room incident. But this time they had a blue background.

Maybe it’s a coincidence? Cheesy novelty socks might be some high-fashion menswear trend that you’re unaware of?

However, the stone sitting in the pit of her stomach would not be relieved. His voice had stirred something in her, but he’d definitely been disguising it. Tricking her. She knew the socks and she knew the man. And now she knew that he tasted like heaven and was as well-endowed as the rumours had indicated.

Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God...

She opened her mouth to speak, but her voice had turned to dust. Instead, she spun around and raced back toward the ball.

CHAPTER SIX

IMOGEN SPENT THE remainder of the weekend trying to determine the best way to prevent Monday from rolling around. But Monday was a tricky beast. No matter how hard you hung on to Sunday, Monday would always make an appearance.

She arrived at work early, hoping to make it to the executive floor undetected so she could hide out in her office. Would Domino’s deliver directly to her desk? She could acquire a blanket and make a fort. Or push some furniture against the door and barricade herself in.

“You’re an adult. You can handle this.” She dropped into her desk chair and emptied her lungs in a long, slow whoosh. “It’s not like he knows it was you.”

Her disguise had been perfect, and all he knew was that she was after someone named Daniel.

What if he recognised your voice?

That had to be a long shot...right?

And the kiss, while wild and reckless, shouldn’t bear any consequences. Outwardly, anyway. Inwardly...well, her brain had turned into Pornhub overnight. That was two strikes now. Two instances of crossing a line previously marked “No. Nope. No way in Hell. Do not proceed under any circumstances.” If she made one more wrong move, who knew where that might lead?

“Let’s be real. You know where you want it to lead,” she muttered to herself.

And that was a big smurfing problem.

Falling for a guy like Caleb wasn’t inviting trouble—it was courting it, seducing it and taking it to bed. And Imogen wasn’t about to take trouble to bed, no matter what her lady parts were saying.

“Stop thinking about beds.” She sipped her flat white. Nothing. Her taste buds had tapped out and not even a coffee from her favourite café could help.

Caleb had officially broken her.

Shaking off the stressful thoughts, she ran through the CEO’s calendar and started compiling all the documents, briefing notes and travel arrangements that he needed. The process calmed her. When there was order, Imogen’s mind wasn’t such a chaotic mess.