As I pushed it over to him, I said, “I’m going to need a copy of that.”

He bent and signed the paper as well and I had a chance to admire him unnoticed for a few seconds. He really was unbelievably handsome. My heart hadn’t stopped drumming its silly ska tempo since he’d walked in the door.

“Of course,” he murmured, taking out a shiny chrome-plated smart phone from his breast pocket to photograph the document. After a moment, he typed some commands into it and looked up at me. “Heath Bowman now has a copy in his e-mail. He can forward it to you. I’ll have a physical copy mailed to you as soon as possible if you put your address on the back of the form.” I bent and complied, hurriedly scratching down my address.

I straightened, ready to give his attitude back to him, now. “It’s too bad, really, that I won’t be able to write about it. I could have made it sound so mind-blowing—I might even have thrown in a few ‘earth-shatterings’ for good measure.”

A smile played about his sexy mouth as he tucked his pen back into his jacket. “Oh, our encounters will be all that and more.”

I shook my head, hiding, yet again, the shock at his words. “It’s one night, Mr. Drake. That ‘encounters’ should have a parentheses around the s.”

His look could only be interpreted as smug. “Encounters…no parentheses necessary.”

My heartbeat slammed against my ribs. Why was his arrogance turning me on? I wanted nothing more than to slap that smug look off his handsome face.

His gaze brazenly lowered to my cleavage and breasts, lingering there. My nipples tightened in automatic response and without looking down I knew he could see. I cursed the fact that I had opted to wear a thin, white blouse.

His eyes returned to mine and this time his face split into a boyish grin. “This is going to be fun.”

Self-consciously I folded my arms tightly across my chest, covering my traitorous breasts. I fumbled for something smartass to say in return but failed.

“I’m sorry to make this brief, but I’m on the way to a business meeting. We can work out all the details so that we’re both satisfied. I’ll be reachable by e-mail, however. Or you can text me.”

I almost fell over in relief at the news that he was leaving. I wasn’t sure I could take ten more minutes alone in a room with him. Which didn’t bode well for our night. Alone together. Naked. In a bed.

A bead of sweat trickled down the side of my temple. How did he manage to look so cool and crisp in his umpteen-thousand-dollar suit? And how did he manage to look so young and yet act like a thirty-something businessman at the same time?

I cleared my throat. “My cell phone isn’t working.”

His forehead creased for a moment and he opened his mouth, shook his head and then closed it as if he’d changed his mind about what he was going to say. “I have nothing but your best interests, health and safety in mind, Emilia. Both physically and legally.”

Nothing else? Again, I highly doubted that. My skepticism must have been apparent because he settled back, dark brows rising just a little. “Well, I do have my own expectations of how this should go, of course.”

I smirked, hoping this time to get some kind of reaction from him. “Of course you do.”

But his eyes only narrowed as he stood. I mirrored his actions and he waited for me to come around the table before walking toward the door alongside me. He stood so close that his jacket brushed my shoulder once and I thought my heart would go into arrest from the electric shock that zinged through me. I waited while he reached out to pull the door open. I could see no one beyond the frosted glass of the conference room door.

But he didn’t open the door. Instead he turned to me, pinned me down with that dark gaze.

“Was there something else?” I hated how breathy my voice sounded. I took a step back to put some space between us, but it didn’t seem to matter. The intensity did not let up.

Then that willful smile again. “No. I’d better not ask,” he muttered, almost to himself and I wondered what he’d had in mind. But he still didn’t move. His hand on the chrome door handle tightened, the skin around his knuckles paling. This close I could see every feature, his glossy black hair, his dark eyes, his long straight nose and strong jaw. I swallowed and glanced to the side.

“Mr. Drake—”

“Adam,” he said, his voice quiet, firm. Then he did something I could hardly believe. He put his free hand to my chin, tilting my head up so he could look into my face. His thumb ran along my jawline and I forced myself not to jump back. I didn’t hate the touch—quite the opposite. Even as my nervousness grew, I had to remind myself that he’d be touching a lot more than that very soon. I met his gaze, managing not to flinch.