One Night with the CEO (20 page)

Gracie rolled her eyes. Brenda was a smart and efficient assistant, but she had either no ability or no desire to filter her inappropriate thoughts, which meant she shared them with Gracie—often.

“I’ll be right out,” Gracie said.

She straightened in her chair and twisted her neck from side to side to ease the tightness in her shoulders. Checking her reflection in the mirror near her door, she licked her lips and swept her hair away from her face. Before she reached the reception area, she took a deep breath and pasted on a welcoming smile.

Brenda came into view first. Gracie resisted the urge to laugh when her assistant fanned herself.
Focus, Gracie. Focus.

Nicholas Hill stood with his back to her, giving Gracie a few seconds to glance at her feet to be sure her hem wasn’t tucked into a shoe. Distracted by her wardrobe check, she gave him her typical perfunctory greeting as she held out her hand. “Welcome, Mr. Hill. My name is Graciela Ramirez, the director of Learn to Net. Call me Gracie. It’s a pleasure to meet—”

When Nicholas Hill’s warm hand grasped hers, she looked up at him and her mouth stopped moving. Brenda’s assessment of his appearance was trite, but Gracie had to admit the description was spot on. This man—
her ward for two hundred hours
—rendered her speechless.

Taking in the twinkle in his green eyes and the lopsided grin that emphasized his full lips, Gracie wanted to stuff him in a box, slap a bow on it, and set it under the Christmas tree. What the hell? So unlike her. And unsettling. Frankly, she needed a minute to collect herself, because he was too much to absorb at once.

“Hello, Gracie. This isn’t the best of circumstances, but it’s a pleasure to meet you. And call me . . .” He paused. “Call me Nic.”

Nic’s deep voice filled the space as his fingers lingered on hers. Her gaze dropped to their clasped hands, a joining more intimate than it should have been in this context. He snatched his hand away, maybe in recognition of that fact, and ran it through his tousled, dark brown hair. Gracie’s fingers itched to touch those locks, because she knew they’d be just as soft as they promised. Returning her gaze to his face, she suppressed a sigh.

Wait. She had to remember why he was here. He was a reckless driver, and that was a bad thing.
Bad, bad, bad.
But she couldn’t help wondering whether he was reckless in more pleasurable ways.
Yum, yum, yum.

Ugh.
Get it together, Gracie.
He’s just a man, and you’re a smart, capable professional who has an important nonprofit to run
, she reminded herself.

She cleared her throat and willed herself to settle down. “I’ll show you around and then we can head back to my office to discuss the projects I’d like your help with. Sound good?”

“Sounds great,” he said. “Lead the way.”

Gracie hesitated. It was a truth universally acknowledged that a man in possession of a pair of eyes would check out a woman’s butt upon meeting her. Hoping to divert him from checking out said butt, she walked beside him and pointed out the framed awards that hung on the walls.

She was sure he was no stranger to women who came undone in his presence, and she didn’t want to be the latest poor soul to join them. She tried. She did. But when she closed her eyes for the briefest of moments, she imagined Nic’s lips pressed against her neck as he held her in his arms.
Do not think of him in that way. Do not think of him in that way.

Saving LTN was her highest priority. She couldn’t afford to be distracted by any man. So it should have been no surprise that Nic was distraction personified. Somewhere the gods were laughing at her. Six months. She could ignore him for that long, right?
Right.

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