Brock let go of my hair and his fingers brushed over the curve of my cheek. My skin tingled from where his fingers had touched, like an electrical jolt to my system. His gaze slipped from mine, coasting and lingering over my mouth before going even lower, and a sweet, heady flush of heat spread. Under the sweater, I could feel my nipples hardening.

Slowly, torturously, he dragged his gaze back up to mine. A shadow passed over his striking face and he swallowed once more, then lowered his chin. “Jillian, I—”

“Am I interrupting?”

I jumped at the sound of an unfamiliar female voice. A flicker of surprise skated over Brock’s face and then his jaw hardened. I glanced over my shoulder, and nearly fell out of my chair as I whipped back around, my eyes wide.

It was the fiancée.

Kristen Morgan.

Oh my God.

My face caught fire, and I immediately wanted to explain that however this looked didn’t mean whatever she could be thinking, but I didn’t get a chance because Brock was rising and when he spoke, his tone was as hard as a polished diamond.

“What are you doing here, Kristen?”

Oh wow, that did not sound friendly at all, and I couldn’t remember a time when I’d heard him sound like that.

“Is it really that much of a surprise?” she asked, her tone just as snappy, and I thought it was a really, really good time for me to exit his office.

“I’ll catch up with you later,” I said to Brock, whose gaze flitted to mine. His expression was now locked down, completely unreadable.

Picking up my coffee, I took a deep breath and turned, finally laying eyes on Kristen for the first time in many, many years.

We both gasped at the same time.

Obviously for different reasons.

Time had been extremely kind to Kristen. She was more beautiful than I remembered. Tall and slender, her shoulder-length blonde hair was cut in a trendy way, slightly longer in the front than in the back. Her features were flawless—high cheekbones and a perfect, pert little nose, and smooth golden complexion. She was wearing white skinny jeans. Never in my life would I ever squeeze my ass and thighs into that pair of white pants, but she did it and did it wearing flats and a tight turtleneck.

And she looked damn good while doing it.

Ugh.

“It’s good to see you, Kristen,” I mumbled, stepping around her.

She didn’t respond as she stared at me, her china-blue eyes wide.

I didn’t let myself think about why she looked so shocked when she saw me as I stepped out of the office. It didn’t matter, and I refused to spend a second stressing about that.

Walking back to my office, I closed the door behind me and went to my desk, placing my mug on the coaster.