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I can’t evenbejealous. She’s not mine.
She’s just beautiful and holds a spark I haven’t felt from anyone else.
If there was a woman waiting for me in my apartment at the end of every day, I’d want her to be Maddie.
Fuck. I can’t think like that. What we have isn’t anything long-term or deep, no matter how much I think I want that.
I dig my fingernails into the arm of my office chair to keep myself in the damn seat. Maddie has every right to walk into the lobby of my building, whereshelives, and talk to the doorman. She has every right to talk to whoever she wants. She doesn’t belong to me.
Just when I’ve finally fucking lost it and started to get up from the chair, Maddie turns away from the reception desk. For a split second, I can see her face before she heads for the elevators. The kind smile that she wore into the lobby drops away into a worried frown.
I pause. Concern spreading through my veins.
What’s that about?
My computer pings with a message that the meeting has ended. I click over to the meeting tab. Harland apologizes but something has come up and he’ll email once he’s available again. Irritation spreads through me but I remind myself: patience.
I click both windows closed, get up from my seat, and go to the floor-to-ceiling window. My only thoughts are of Madelyn and how to approach her again. It was expression on her face. There’s no way I can tell her I was watching her on the cameras—that would be an invasion of privacy, and she’d never want to fuck me again.
Which isn’t the only thing I’m worried about.
I’m worried abouther. I’m worried that some serious problem worries her. I don’t care for it.
As I stare down at the bustling streets, I debate on how to handle her. I can go knock on her door and make sure everything’s fine. Maddie came to me with a problem. It would be a gentlemanly thing to do to check in.
There’s a quiet knock at the door. “Mr. Maxwell?”
“Yes?”
It’s my secretary, Miss Dawning. Her expression is slightly hesitant, the wrinkles around her eyes even deeper than normal.
“There’s someone here to see you. She doesn’t have an appointment, but I told her I’d see if—”
“Who is it?”
“Madelyn Cunnigham.”
“Of course. Send her in.”
“Oh!” My secretary blinks. No doubt surprised. I typically hate unscheduled meetings and simply decline. “Of course, Mr. Maxwell. Right away.” As she closes my office door, she holds the lone pearl dangling from her gold necklace over her white blouse, an amused look on her face.
A moment later, my secretary leads Maddie into my office. Maddie flashes her that same bright smile she used when she was crossing the street, then looks at me. The smile gets smaller…and hotter. Pink spreads across her cheeks. Her doe eyes take on a sensual heat.
This isn’t how she looked at the doorman.
I can’t help the pull of an asymmetrical grin at the sight of her reaction.
“Hello, Maddie.” The scent of her perfume has already spread lightly across the office. “I’m surprised to see you here during business hours.” The camera didn’t do her justice. She’s even more beautiful in person. My grip tightens on the desk as she makes her way in.
She laughs, a little nervously. “I just finished some errands, and you’re my next stop. Do you have a few minutes?”
I gesture to the chair across from my desk. “For you?” I pause, allowing a moment to pass while our eyes lock. “Of course I have time.”
Maddie blushes a deeper red and moves across the office. The modern lines of my office furniture are hard and sharp, there’s a coldness in its simplicity, and then there’s her. Warmth and beauty and femininity. I settle back into my chair and she takes her seat, balancing her purse neatly on her lap. I don’t know which I like more—Maddie in a bodysuit or Maddie in this classic dress.
She smiles hesitantly across the desk at me. “So…I have some bad news.”
My blood runs cold and I despise the worrying tone she has. If she were mine, she wouldn’t have to worry about a damn thing. “What kind of bad news?” I keep my voice calm, but I’m anything but. I don’t want to hear that she has bad news—if someone’s done something to her, like her ex-fiancé, it needs to be fixed immediately. My palms itch and it takes great effort not to let on every scenario that runs through the back of my mind.
