Page 40 of Pure Abandon

“Why do you insist on calling me by my married name?”

“Why do you answer a question with a question?” His voice is amused yet polite. He has a way of drawing me in with his charm, but I have to stay on my toes. So far I’m three for three with failed attempts at talking to this man. One of which I can’t blame him at all for. I need to maintain proper decorum.

“Mr. Asher…”

Unfolding his arms, Asher takes a step off the wall, closer to my desk. “Alex, just call me Alex.”

Ahh, just call me Alex. Those famous last words from the limo. Irritation sends blood pulsing through my veins. I keep my voice even and cross my shaking leg under my steady one. “Mr. Asher. With all due respect, I’m a married woman and cannot accept flowers from another man. Especially when he’s the one signing my checks.”

His face turns serious as his eyes squint, appraising me. “Do you always uphold such high moral ground?”

With his palms placed on my desk, Asher leans forward, driving that divine scent into my personal space. Our eyes lock. I stare at them like someone mesmerized by a pinwheel. Those flecks of gold and brown are a kaleidoscope for the devil.

He inches his body toward me until he’s so close I can feel his breath on my skin. I want to turn around, push my chair away from the desk. But, like always with this man, I freeze.

“Relax.” A slow, sexy smile creeps across his face before he pulls away and collapses into the chair in front of my desk.

What the…?

Well, it looks like we’ll be going four for four with awkward encounters.

Asher sits back… no, lounges back in the seat with his arms spread open, resting on each arm of the chair. He fills it far more than Trish. In fact, he actually makes the chair look small.

Oddly enough, his order to relax actually does calm my nerves a bit. It was in the tone. It was… earnest?

I stare at him, dumbfounded.

“You intrigue me.” He crosses his right leg over his knee. “You are the only person in this damn place who tells it like it is. I like you. I want to get to know you intimately.”

I must look like a deer in headlights. He leans back his head and laughs. A real laugh. Like a deep in the belly guttural laugh. It’s deep and smooth.

“No, no, not like that.” He holds up his hand while the other sits on his chest.

If not like that, then what?

He pauses as he tries to assess how to proceed. “Gray. May I call you Gray?”

I shake my head. “No.” We’re not doing nicknames.

He mouths the word no as a question, his lips forming a perfect O.

He leans over, placing his elbows on his knees. His legs spread wide, hitting the sides of the chair. “That’s fine. I like your name. Kathryn.” My name slides off his tongue like a dare. “It’s beautiful. It means pure.”

Pure? I’m far from it. Maybe once, a long time ago. Speaking of pure… “The white roses. They have to go.”

“The roses were meant as a peace offering. I should have told you who I was, but I swear I didn’t know who you were when you got in my car.”

I blink at him, unsure whether to assume he really did or did not know. “So you weren’t being inappropriate?”

He takes a deep breath. “To be honest, yes, I was coming on to you in the elevator, but I swear that was before I knew you were married. Scouts honor.” He holds up his fingers in some twisted Vulcan-type sign.

“You said I intrigue you. Intrigue how?” I ask.

“Fascinate, interest, beguile… Are you really going to make me list every SAT word I have in this head? Because I’ve got a lot of them. Appeal, bewitch… transfix…” He counts off the various words.

“I know what intrigue means. The question was, how?”

Clearly amused by himself, he smiles and then shrugs his shoulders. “You’re intense. You tell it like it is and you don’t take shit from anyone, especially me.”