I’m putting a nice bottle of Napa Valley Chardonnay in the fridge to chill when my cell starts to vibrate on the marble kitchen counter. Assuming that it’s a drunken update from Grant, I grab the phone to see an unknown number.

“Callum speaking.”

“Mr. Alexander?” an unfamiliar male asks.

“Yes. How may I help you?” My muscles tense immediately, it’s not unprecedented but if somehow the press has got hold of my private number, it means there is a leak at the office. And leaks at the office—especially with the museum project’s current issues—would not be ideal right now.

“It’s Gregory Graves. Mr. Richardson told me to call you if I had any questions.”

“He did, did he?” I reply cautiously before continuing. “Mr. Graves, I have to admit this contact is a bit unexpected. It is outside of office hours, and I’m unsure how there could be anything so pressing that it requires my attention on the weekend.”

“Ah, yes. Sorry. It’s just that I’ve been looking over your recent finished projects to get up to date with everything the firm is involved in. And I was interested in the Spera Building concept—”

“Mr. Graves, I appreciate the interest and the enthusiasm you have brought into your role at the firm. It has not gone unnoticed.”

“Thank you, sir. I had hoped I would make a good impression.”

“Indeed. Unfortunately, I’m expecting a dinner guest so I do not have the time to discuss this kind of thing right now. However, if you talk to Annie on Monday, she can book you in an appointment with me, and we can discuss any questions you might have.”

“Wow. That would be fantastic Mr. Alexander. Do you, ah . . . do you mind if I brought you my designs to look over again? I know you’ve been very busy of late, and Annie has not been able to find a time for me to meet with you again, but I would value any advice or suggestions you might have on the direction I’ve taken with it.”

“I’m sorry that my schedule has been near impossible in recent weeks. If I have time in my schedule, I will try my best to fit you in, Mr. Graves. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must be going.”

“Oh yes. Sure. Thank you Mr. Alexander. Sorry for interrupting your evening.”

“Have a good weekend, Mr. Graves.”

“You too. I’m sure a man as impressive as you has a very full weekend planned.” Well that comment is mildly inappropriate, if not suggestive. He breaks me from that thought by adding, “I’ll go see Annie on Monday.”

“Yes. See you Monday.” I end the call, wondering if I was ever as enthusiastic about my internship as Gregory Graves seems to be about his.

The one positive is that his call took my mind off my growing anxiety over Lucia’s impending visit.

More concerning is how he got my personal cell number.

Just as I’m beginning to second-guess my decision making ability, the front gate’s intercom shrills and Lucia’s voice amplifies throughout the room. “Hello? Callum? It’s Lucia.”

I step toward the entranceway wall and lift my finger to answer her. “Hey. I’ll buzz you in.”

I push in the four-digit code to open the gate and watch on the small closed-circuit screen as a blue Mini Cooper drives through the entrance and up the stone driveway, stopping in front of the closed garage door. When I open the front door, she’s standing there waiting for me.

“Hi.” A very uncharacteristic opening for me, but I’m rendered speechless by the way she looks. Her dark brown hair has been curled into soft flowing waves, and her long black eyelashes make her look precisely like the seductress I think she may be.

She’s wearing a grey, hooded woolen dress with a revealing neckline, falling just above the knee. It’s demure but alluring, a fact that does not go unnoticed.

“Hi, yourself.” The smirk on her red painted lips tells me that she’s achieved the desired effect. She wanted to arouse me with one look and something in her eyes is giving me the impression that she wants to show me what I left behind when I left her last time.

What she doesn’t realize is that I’m unerringly aware of the many shortcomings in my decision to leave her that night.

“Find the place okay?” We’re still standing on my doorstep. I’m frozen in place, and she’s standing opposite me watching, almost studying me.

“Yeah, there’s this thing called Google Maps. You should try it some time. Works a treat.” She winks at me before her expression softens and she regards me carefully. “Look, Callum. If you’ve changed your mind about this, I can—”

I shake my head and step aside, waving my hand out toward the large living area. “No. Sorry, I’m being rude.” I pause and autopilot kicks in. “My father would scold me for leaving a beautiful woman outside in the cold. Please, come in.”

She watches me momentarily before crossing the threshold. “I was starting to wonder if there was a new al fresco trend of eating on the doorstep. Thought I might have missed the boat on a hot new concept.” She smiles widely, and although the tight muscles in my shoulders ease slightly, I’m still conscious of the fact I’m stretched thin from the events of the day and the anxiety of having Lucia in my home.

Closing the door behind us, I follow her as she walks toward the living area. “Straight ahead. Dinner should be ready in about fifteen minutes. I hope that’s okay.”

She spins around and continues to walk, but now she’s moving backwards while watching me. “Callum, you’re acting like you’ve never had a woman here and for a man like yourself, there is no way that could possibly be true.”

I look down at the floor and smile, half embarrassed at the veiled reference to my reported reputation and half relieved that my awkward behavior does not seem to have swayed her interest going by what she just said.

“It’s true,” I reply, taking a step toward her. When her steps falter, I take the opportunity to bring my body in close. Tilting my head down to look at her, I wrap an arm around her waist, trailing it down to rest dangerously close to her ass. “That’s what I think about any so-called reputation.”

Her wide green eyes look up to meet mine. “Hmmm. What were we talking about again?” Her lips twitch and her breathing quickens, the atmosphere in the room instantly thick with tension—the right kind this time.

“Don’t believe everything you hear,” I murmur as my eyes drop to her lips.

“And what would I have heard?”

I watch her. She honestly has the best game face I know. So hard to read. So hard to get a measure of. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?” She trails off as my face moves in closer, my body putting aside any misgivings I may have had.

“Make me want this. Make me want you.” I sound drunk. The effect this woman has on me intensifies the closer we get.

“Do you need your arm twisted?”

I decide then and there to just go with it. Follow my instincts and see how she reacts to the real Callum Alexander. “When it comes to you, I’m a done deal.”

“Prove it.”

“Luce . . .” I say her name, loving the way it rolls off my tongue. The way her eyes soften and the corner of her mouth curls upward are an added bonus.

“Yeah, Cal.”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

“Why don’t you shut up and kiss me?”

So I do, lowering my head and dragging my tongue along the seam of her lipstick-covered lips. I rake my hands through her hair, tugging just to the point of pain before plunging my tongue into her mouth, tasting and taking, touching every part of her from shoulders to hips. I push forward and feel her body jolt as she hits the wall.

Then it’s no holds barred. The kiss turns from wild to rabid in the blink of an eye. Her hands snake under my shirt, her fingernails biting into my chest as I press my body hard against hers. My cock is incessant in its protest, and every tilt of her hips against mine increases the need to take her right there in my hallway. Minutes pass, but it feels like seconds because we’re too lost in each other to care.