“Yes, that would be fine. What time would he like to meet?”

“Can you be here around six? I have to leave the office to head to our production facility tomorrow, so I’ll be heading home to pack, but I’ll leave your information with security.”

“Perfect. I’ll be there.” We say our good-byes and I can’t help the smile stretched across my face. I message Taylor to come into my office.

She enters with a tentative smile, as if she wasn’t listening at the door. Inside I’m doing cartwheels—I needed this. I feel strong, confident, and again—I beat Neil. Even though I don’t want to think of him, I enjoy this victory and relish the fact that despite his efforts to sabotage me, I still won.

My smile widens, if that’s even possible. “We got it! Oh my God, Tay! We got the account!”

“Ahhh! I knew it!” she squeals with as much excitement as I’m feeling and rushes over, giving me a huge hug. She pulls back, keeping her arms on my shoulders. “I never doubted you! So what happens next?”

“I have to meet Mr. Cole at six. Can you call and have a cab or a car waiting? I want to make sure I’m on time.” She nods and zooms back out of my office. I only have thirty minutes to get there, and it’s at least a twenty-minute cab ride with the traffic at this hour.

I start to pace. The adrenaline and excitement is starting to ebb—I’m anxious because now that I have the account, I have to implement all my ideas and gain the trust of the CEO. Nervous energy fills my body and I grab my iPad to start taking notes on all the things I want to lobby for.

Taylor buzzes the intercom. “I have a cab downstairs. Good luck and congrats again. Now go kick some ass.” She giggles and disconnects.

I grab my purse and rush out of the office, throwing a quick good-bye over my shoulder. Throughout the ride to Raven Cosmetics I go over my key notes, examine some of my earlier sales figures, and plan to spend the next few days really honing in on the company’s core values. When I get there, I hop out of the cab, prepared to make one hell of an impression.

Entering the building, I make my way over to security. The guard hands me the badge that Danielle left for me and calls Mr. Cole, letting him know I’ve arrived. I’m told to head straight to the office, where he’ll be waiting for me.

Luckily the elevator is empty, so I have a minute to mentally prepare. Taking a few deep breaths, I start to form some ideas on how to best sell him on my plan. I also wonder about the man himself. I’ve met a lot of executives, but there’s something about his voice. The deep, raspy sound has me curious as to what triggered the familiarity. I haven’t really had time to think about it until now. Surely I would remember if we’d met or spent any significant amount of time together. I’m pretty good at remembering people and small details; it’s part of why I excel at my job. As the elevator ascends, so does my anxiety.

Before I have another second to think about it, the door opens. My eyes immediately lock on familiar blue-green ones and the breathtaking face of the man who I’ve dreamed of for the last week.

Chapter Seven

My free hand flies to my mouth in disbelief.

“Jackson,” I say, barely audible.

Jackson stands there looking absolutely magnificent—he’s everything I remember and more. He’s wearing a crisp white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up—the top two buttons undone—and dark gray, perfectly tailored dress pants. His hair is disheveled, like he’s been running his hands through the dark brown locks. He steps forward and places his hands on the elevator doors to prevent them from closing. His eyes haven’t left mine, and the cocky grin I remember is present as he processes who I am. He shakes his head back and forth in disbelief and gives a small half laugh. I look down and shift my weight, afraid to speak and unable to move forward.

He clears his throat, forcing me to look up. He finally speaks first. “You’re Catherine Pope?” he asks, sounding amused as he tries to smother his grin.

I nod my head in response.

He extends his hand, inviting me to exit and reminding me that I’m still standing on the elevator. I place my hand in his and the electric current, which I’ve tried to convince myself I’d imagined, buzzes through my entire body, energizing every nerve from head to toe. Jackson pulls me forward, still unspeaking.

He’s unbelievably sexy and try as I might, my eyes refuse to look away while he measures his next words. Jackson steps back, pulling me with him toward the office. What are the odds? I never thought I’d see this man again, and now he’s standing in front of me, smiling and shaking his head, almost mirroring my own response. Of all the accounts and all the men he had to be Jackson Cole.

Jackson clears his throat again, breaking into my thoughts. “You’re even more beautiful than I remember.” He looks down at our hands and the shift in his attitude is unmistakable, as if he’s considering the current relationship we now share.

I remove my hand from his and pull myself together. He’s my client. I’m a professional.

“Thank you, Mr. Cole. CJJ is proud that you chose our vision to take your company forward.” I smile and mentally high-five myself for saying that without stuttering.

He chuckles at my attempt at professionalism. “Oh, let me assure you, this project is quickly becoming my favorite,” he says with amusement, looking me up and down. His deep, sexy voice travels straight to my core. “The more I think about it, the more I think I’m going to enjoy working with you.”

I lick my lips as I stare at his mouth. I need to get it together. This is my job. He’s just a man, a very sexy and f**kable man, but still—he’s my client. I’m not about to be seduced by his gorgeous face or ripped abs and defined arms—nope, not going to happen.

Bring on the delusions.

I smile tentatively. “Shall we get to our meeting?” I ask as my voice shakes, betraying my nerves.

“We’re going to play it that way, are we?” He smirks, obviously amused. “Okay, Ms. Pope. Right this way,” he says as he looks directly into my eyes, saying so much more with his body than with his mouth. His perfectly formed, totally kissable—

My thoughts are scattered. I want to run back into the elevator and tell him to give the account to Boyce. I don’t know how I’m going to be around him for days on end. We’ve spent a total of five minutes together and he already has me in hyperdrive.

“Thank you,” I mumble.

He extends his arm, showing me where to go. I shift my purse on my shoulder and begin walking. When he places his hand on the small of my back, I shiver inadvertently. I feel his warmth through my shirt, burning my skin. I’m mentally berating myself for acting like this.

“Are you cold?” he asks with humor in his voice, somehow aware his touch is wreaking havoc on me.

I turn and look directly in his eyes, hoping to convey my own message of strength and defiance. “No, I’m fine. Thank you.” I was strong and confident this morning, but now I feel like I’m on the edge of a cliff. I smile and straighten my back, trying to walk past him as he stands in the doorway. He’s left me very little room to get through, though, so I shift to the side, scooting by without touching him. Of course, it’s impossible and my arm slides against his, causing goose bumps to form in the wake of our skin-to-skin contact.