But everything about the intense eye contact and the way our mouths were wrapping themselves around the words suggested that we were setting up a rendezvous. Clothing optional. If not completely unnecessary.

I had to get control over my hormones.

It wasn’t like me to go so gaga over a man.

I mean, unless we were talking about some tall, dark, and deadly fictional hero who talked in clipped three-word sentences and had a tragic backstory.

I never lost my train of thought because some attractive guy was sitting two feet away. Not even if I could smell their rich tobacco and leather cologne.

“Miss Amato?”

It was the little smirk toying with the edges of his lips that finally snapped me out of it.

My spine went ramrod straight as I put the mug down with a soft click. “Yes?” Damn, that one word even came out icy. I was really channeling that businesswoman from that book I’d read. Though we would absolutely, under no circumstances, be banging on the conference table like the book. No matter how much my sex was aching for it.

“Are we set?”

“Yes, of course,” I said, getting to my feet a little too quickly. The chair started to fly back. But Soren was faster, his arm shooting out to grab the back of it, stopping it from potentially slamming into the glass wall and shattering it.

I would have normally commented on his reflexes. I was easily impressed by things like that. But since that was something I would normally say, my lips stayed shut.

“I’ll see you then,” I said, nodding.

“I’ll walk you to the elevator,” he said, buttoning that damn button again. Which a strong, collected, successful, unaffected businesswoman would not have noticed, so I forced my gaze away.

“All set?” Teresa asked as we moved out of the conference room.

Bass rose from one of the couches, setting a magazine down on the coffee table.

“I’m going to need my calendar cleared for Monday,” Soren told her.

”You have that important—” Teresa started.

Soren cut her off. “I don’t care. Clear it.” His tone both brooked no argument, but was also somehow respectful. Which, again, was frustratingly sexy.

“Of course,” Teresa said, nodding.

“Miss Amato,” Soren said, reaching around behind my back, his arm grazing me in the process, so he could push the elevator button. “I am looking forward to working with you.” His words were said close to my neck, his breath teasing across my skin, making a shudder move through me. Luckily, only on the inside.

Thankfully, the elevator doors slid open just then, allowing me to move inside and put some much-needed distance between us.

“Of course,” I said, not even knowing if it was the appropriate response. It didn’t matter. Bass was beside me and the doors were closing.

But Soren’s gaze was on me until the doors blocked me from view.