Ignoring the embarrassment bubbling through my veins, I stepped inside and poked the button that would take me to the top floor. The doors skittered closed at the same time as my back hit the wall behind me.
I watched the digital numbers climb. Up and up they went until I could enter the hallway that led to Tristan’s front door.
My feet moved and didn’t stop until my palm connected with the wood.
Smack. Smack. Smack.
No sounds, no freaking movement came from inside.
He was probablybusy. No, not probably, definitely.
I tried one more time. Curling my hand into a fist, I slammed it down harder than before.
Still, there was no sign of life.
With another groan followed by a defeated sigh, I dropped my head against the door. Only it wasn’t the hard wood I connected with. Warm, taut skin stretched tight over solid muscle met my forehead.
Could this day possibly get any freaking worse?
Lifting my head faster than I’d lowered it, I stumbled backward and scowled at the man in front of me.
The dress shirt he’d worn when he’d left the office well over an hour ago was nowhere to be seen. Nothing but lean, toned muscle in its place. His slacks were halfway undone, and his feet bare.
Now, I would be the first one to admit this man was all kinds of hot. His dark hair was slightly too long, but not in an unruly way. Then there were those eyes. The color of dark honey with a stare so intense, it easily made grown men cower.
Yeah, he was sexy as sin, and the bastard knew it too.
The first few times I’d caught him like this, heat had crept through my body, setting a flame to long-forgotten parts.
I got over that fast.
The saying: a beautiful man is everyone’s man? Well, that was Tristan Blake.
He was powerful, successful, and never seen with the same woman twice. And his moral values left a hell of a lot to be desired.
“Kate.” Voice filled with surprise; he slowly arched his brow. “Why aren’t you at home?”
I almost swore again. Waving the manila through the air like a lunatic, I gritted out, “You never signed these.” What I barely refrained from adding was I’d given it to him after lunch, but then Shelby showed up, and his productivity flew out the damn window. “The courier arrived to pick up the contract as I was leaving. Good thing I had the sense to double check.”
He scrunched up his face. “What would I do without you, Kate?” Opening the door wide, he moved to the side. “Better come in while I do this.”
I took one step and halted. Jerking my chin, I asked, “Is it safe?” A valid question considering the things I’d seen.
He flattened his palm against his pec, long fingers splayed across his inked chest. “Oh, Kate.” A deep laugh made his frame shake. “You wound me.”
It was my turn to raise a brow. His response was to laugh some more while he ambled away, leaving me to stare at his retreating back.
“Fucking idiot,” I mumbled.
Shaking my head—at the man, at the situation—I gingerly placed one foot in front of the other and followed him inside. He went to the dining room table and scribbled his all-important signature everywhere it needed to go.
I wonder where Shelby is.
Instead of voicing that question, I chose to focus on the sparsely decorated interior of Tristan’s home. It was gorgeous. All dark colors, sharp edges, and stainless steel. Sleek, modern furniture and not a single thing out of place.
It was picture-perfect.
And it wasn’t a home.
