Secretly, I think I worked harder on this. Ordinarily, I’d never take a project that gave me such little time to come up with a whole concept for such a large space. Sure, he was pretty certain on the kind of thing he wanted, but it’s not easy.

I wanted to prove to Carter Hughes that I’m not intimidated by him or his sexy as fuck tactics. I’m not intimidated by the way he says dirty things in that low and husky voice of his.

If he thought he could scare me off with seduction, he thought wrong. He needs to spend a little bit less time in his fucking sex bar and reconnect with the real world, because I’m not seduced.

The shrill ring of my phone pierces the air, and I grab it. “Bee Donnelly.”

“Carter Hughes is on the line for you,” Carlos says.

“Put him through,” I order, sitting up in my chair.

“Yes, ma’am.”

The lines goes dead for a few seconds, then the husky voice that belongs to Carter Hughes rumbles down the line. “Ms. Donnelly,” he says smoothly. “How are you today?”

“Fine, thank you. And yourself?”

“I’m very well. I assume you’re done with your design proposal for my restaurant?”

“You assume correctly.” I cross my feet at my ankles and lean forward on my desk, propping myself up with my elbows. “Although I’m pretty sure I never received instructions on how to get the design to you.”

If smirks were audible, I think his would be screaming. “You’ll have to bring it to me. I’m busy.”

“I’ll have to bring it to you?” My eyebrows shoot up. “I’m not your personal bitch, Mr. Hughes.”

“No… But you are doing something that will get you a potential client.”

“I rearranged six consultations with potential clients in the last three days because of your unreasonable demand. Believe me when I say I could have gained all six while I’ve been working on this for you.”

“All the more reason to try and get my business, don’t you think?” he asks dryly.

The man is infuriating. I’m almost certain that I’m getting to the point where I want to take the design to him, except I’ll smack him around his handsome, smug face instead. “Here’s an idea, Mr. Hughes. I have three appointments this afternoon that I can’t reschedule. I’m going to see my appointments through and then I’ll be working late to catch up on the things that fell by the wayside because of you. I’ll be in my office until ten p.m. with your design. I’m sure, if you really want to see it, that you can find time to stop by and collect it.”

“That isn’t how this—”

A knock at my door makes me cut him off. “My next appointment is here. Ten p.m. Good afternoon, Mr. Hughes.”

I hang up with an oddly triumphant feeling flowing through my body. God. Standing up to righteous assholes has always given me a sick pleasure. Knowing that he is the righteous asshole I just stood up to…

Well it puts the fucking zippidy in my goddamn doodaa, I’ll tell you that.

“Bee?” Carlos knocks on my door once again. “Your two o’clock is here.”

“Be right out,” I reply, getting up and straightening my dress. I grab a stack of books from my client chair and put them on the bookshelf before opening the door.

Today feels like a good day.

***

It’s been seven hours since my conversation with Carter Hughes and I haven’t heard a fucking word from him.

Seems like the man can give it, but he can’t take it.

I wonder how it makes him feel to know that there’s a woman who won’t take his crap.

I brush those thoughts off and turn back to my folders. One of my earlier meetings was with a previous client. I’ve done her living room and dining room, but now she’s extending and wants a library designed to match.

The best part? It’s totally a Beauty and the Beast library. You know the one. With the endless bookshelves and a ladder that swings right across? Yep. That one.

It makes me sigh every time I think of it. For all my… extracurricular activities, I love a good book. Or ten. Or one hundred.

If I had the patience or the inclination to go property hunting once more, I’d so get an apartment with room for a library.

Not to read the books, you understand. Fuck that. You don’t crack spines. That’s why some clever bastard created Kindles. Paperback books are the diamonds of the book world.

I mean, I sniff them. The pages smell awesome.

God. I sound like a weirdo, even in my own head.

But whatever. The point remains, Mrs. Hinsky wants me to design her a library, so design her a library I’m gonna damn well do.

“Is it common practice to work whilst lying on the floor?”

My head jerks around at the sound of his voice. “Is it common practice to enter someone’s office unannounced?”

Carter looks down at his feet. “I’m not inside, Bee. And your door is open.”

I glance at the floor. Ugh. He’s right. “Whatever.” I pull myself up to standing and slip my feet back in my shoes. “I assume you’re here to collect your designs.”

One of his eyebrows quirks up. “You assume correctly,” he echoes my words from earlier.

“Come in.” I wave in his general direction and walk across to my desk.

“Don’t you have a cleaner?”

“It’s not a mess. It’s called organized chaos, and we happen to work incredibly well together, thank you very much.” I turn just in time to catch his calculating emerald gaze sweep every inch of the room.

They finally come to rest on my desk, and he studies it almost intently until his lips tug up on one side. He looks up, our eyes colliding. “Is that why you were on your floor? A little too much ‘organized chaos’ on your desk?”

I snatch his file as annoyance sizzles in my bloodstream. I hand it to him over the desk. “Here’s your design, Mr. Hughes. I’d show you out, but quite frankly, I don’t fucking want to.” I finish with a tight smile and a look that could shatter granite.

I stalk past him and gather my things from the floor. Organized chaos on my desk indeed. It’s the tidiest damn space in this room because it’s where I work. So what if my back aches from sitting at it for twelve hours and I wanted to lie on the floor? My office. My rules.

I put my books and pencils on the wooden surface of my desk and look up. Carter is still standing in front of it, his eyes intense, his lips quirked, and his general presence almost intimidating. He stares at me with a look I can only describe as hungry, and the shivers that cascade down my spine are enough to make me fight a full-body shiver.

“I can’t help but notice you’re still here,” I comment, lifting an eyebrow in challenge. “Is there something I can help you with? Perhaps a direction to the door?”

He doesn’t respond.

I lift my arm and point to the door. “Make a one-eighty turn, approximately twenty steps forward, turn left, then keep walking until I can shut the door without you in here. Clear enough?”

“Is this how you treat all your clients, Ms. Donnelly?”

“No.” I match the intensity of my gaze to his. “Only the ones I don’t like.”

“Funny. You liked me enough when my cock was in your mouth.”

“I also liked you when your head was between my legs, but you don’t see me throwing that around like it’s fucking candy on Halloween.”

He tilts his head to the side and pats the file that holds his designs. “Thank you for this.”

“I’d say you’re welcome, but my mother raised me to tell the truth. So….” I shrug with a smile.

He turns, the folder tucked under his arm, and walks to the door. I let out a long breath as he approaches it and grab my desk chair.

My door slams.

I jerk my head up.

And Carter Hughes is storming toward me, his eyes burning with feral desire.

He drops the file on my desk, grabs my wrist, and yanks me against the wall. A small cry leaves me as my back collides with the cold surface, but he flattens his body against mine and grabs my face with his hands. The way he tilts my head back is rough; but the kiss is even rougher.