There is no peace because there is no way a Greek god-like Leandros Kaplan would ever want someone like me. Not with me a size fourteen when the models he was used to dating were double zeros. It was his clear distaste at seeing me that pulled me hard and fast back to the moment. I was sure he was looking at me and finding every fault from my fat ass to my too big breasts. I knew I was nothing like the women I’d seen him with in pictures, the gorgeous lingerie models with their long blonde hair and perfectly perky breasts, he didn’t have to be so rude about it.

The moment when his hand took mine, the electric shock was so intense I almost came out of my skin. His hand was so big, so strong, so hot then it was gone as if he couldn’t stand to touch me. At least it gave me the kick I needed, how dare he look down on me?

Then the ice cool I developed while working as a waitress for years in a steakhouse where men thought I was on the menu as well was back, without even thinking I still had it in me. He was just like all the other men, annoyed the women around him weren’t perfect. I was able to meet his eyes and dare him to find me lacking as the personal assistant he needed. I might not be as beautiful and sexy as the other women in his life, I wasn’t supposed to be. I was there to do a job.

The job. It will be heaven and hell all at once. To see him every day, be close to him yet not be able to touch him freely the way my fingers itched to do. To hear him every day, Natalie had admitted without shame just hearing his voice over the phone made her nipples hard. At the time I laughed, then it happened to me. His voice is like a perfect scotch deep, smoky, rich the words seeped into my veins turning my blood into hot, sticky honey. Even before those few minutes when it didn’t feel like an interview, I was lost to him. As torturous as working with him promised to be, the thought of never seeing him again sends a hard kick to my chest. To never hear his voice, never look into those eyes again, that would be a different kind of hell.

Once I’m home, Natalie is knocking on my door. I barely have the door open before she’s talking.

“Alexa? What the hell?” She’s interrupted by Felix, meowing and headbutting her demanding to be petted. With a huff she picks him up for a few strokes then sets him down. “Why didn’t you answer or call me back?”