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“Doja saw.”
“Was she impressed?”
“She’s a cat. Nothing impresses her.” Charlotte lowers her voice. “What are you doing in your office with a hard-on?”
“Thinking about my wife.” My voice is low too, my heart thudding hard against my chest. It’s true. That’s all it takes.
I think of her and I’m instantly aroused.
She’s quiet for a moment. “You’re naughty.”
“Tell me you’re not turned on.”
“I can’t tell you that because it would be a lie.”
I am smug as fuck. “That’s what I thought.”
“You should come home early tonight.”
“Why? You got something special planned for dinner?”
Ah the little woman, fixing me a home-cooked meal. That’s a total fantasy I don’t think is ever going to actually happen, but a man can dream.
“Yeah, I do.” Her voice drops to the softest whisper. “Me.”
I sit up straight, tucking my dick back into my underwear, which is awkward as fuck considering I still have a boner. “I’ll leave now.”
She laughs. “Give me some time first! Leave in an hour and we have a deal.”
“Will do.”
I end the call and lean back in my chair, not caring if my zipper is still undone and I’ve got a delirious grin plastered on my face. Anyone could walk in, even my mother, and I wouldn’t give a single fuck. I am feeling too good.
For once, everything seems to be going right. Smoothly.
Almost feels too good to be true.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Charlotte
“Miss.” I glanceup from the book I’m reading on my phone to find Jasper standing in front of me, a concerned expression on his face. “Someone, er, wants to speak with you.”
I frown, glancing at the time on my phone. It’s almost three. No one asks to speak to me here ever. “Who is it?”
“He—wouldn’t say. I was informed that he’s an old friend and you would understand when I told you he was from Paris.”
I leap off the couch, my phone falling from my lap to the floor. “Where is he? You didn’t let him into the apartment, did you?”
Jasper shakes his head. “I told him I needed to speak with you first.”
“And how exactly did you speak with him?” Panic grips me around the throat and I glance around the cavernous living room. The only other living thing I see is my cat.
“The man working the security desk called and wanted me to relay the message. What would you like me to tell him?”
Curiosity eats at me and I rest my hands on my hips, contemplating my options. I could ignore Seamus and he’ll keep coming around, making a nuisance of himself. Or I could go down to the lobby in front of all sorts of people—including security—in the middle of the afternoon and tell him once and for all that I’m not interested.
Ever.
