Janna had come to the point where looking for another job seemed the better way out, for she couldn’t stand to be near him when she felt like this.
She returned to the setting panel on the copier, knowing the code was a single-digit but not recalling which one. “Is it seven or eight?”
“Maybe nine,” Karen said dreamily.
“What? That’s not the code. It’ll never go through.”
“You wouldn’t believe how well it’ll go” —Karen spun around— “what?” Her quizzical expression made Janna tremble with suppressed laughter. “What are you talking about?”
“What are you talking about?”
Karen blushed and cast her gaze to the floor.
“You’re a dirty girl, K. What would our boss think of you?”
“Nothing, I’m sure.” Karen leaned closer to whisper, “I happen to know he’s interested in somebody and not for a quick bang either. Nobody knows who she is, but she’s one lucky bitch if you ask me.”
Janna shook her head, incredulous over their silly conversation. “How do you know all these things, K?”
“Have you forgotten? His sister is a friend of mine. She tells me everything.”
Janna dared a glance at Mr. Tremaine through the glass windows of his office. He stood over his desk, leaning on his knuckles, gazing down at something—she guessed some paperwork for one of his cases. A loose lock of wavy black hair dangled over his eyes. Janna sucked in a breath when he casually swept it back behind his ear. The gesture made her stomach flutter.
Her gaze traversed his body. God, he had a build like Robocop, not a businessman. But then again, working as a private investigator required physical strength in case he stumbled into a dangerous situation. She licked her lips, knowing well his quick smile and sensual hazel eyes, all of it a handsome package. He towered over her as well, and it made her feel tiny beside him—another turn-on. Having curves and height meant she knew few men who had any interest in her, for the modern man still seemed stuck on short and cute or thin and tall. Since being in Mr. Tremaine’s employ, there were times when she caught him staring at her, but she quickly reminded herself that, as the boss, he needed to keep an eye on his staff. It wasn’t personal. His gaze was strictly business.
Mr. Tremaine could probably pick her up, press her against a wall, and fuck her without support. She exhaled hard, reminding herself they were at work, as her naughty gaze wandered over his coal-black hair. Her favorite thing had to be his hair, for it always looked like he just got out of bed. She closed her eyes, imagining her fingers skimming through those locks and pulling his face down for a kiss. The very thought made her body yearn for the fantasy to come true.
She opened her eyes and caught him looking at her. Shit.