Is she real, or am I still dreaming?
Nate’s gaze devoured the beautiful woman standing less than a foot away from him, lush midnight-black hair haloed around her head, stunned emerald green eyes—too large in her delicate heart-shaped face—sheened with shock, while her full pink lips dropped open in a perfect O. She wore no makeup, but somehow her coloring seemed even purer, more tempting—her translucent skin given a lustrous glow in the single beam of light.
He shook his head, trying to dispel the foggy confusion and dislodge the last vestiges of the nightmare still rippling through his body in painful shudders.
A dream. She has to be a dream.
But she wasn’t the woman who usually visited him in his nightmares—her scent fresh and intoxicating instead of cloying and nauseating, her expression open and transparent instead of studied and calculating.
Plus he could see her, smell her, and it didn’t hurt. In fact it felt almost…good.
The heavy weight in his groin throbbed, and her gaze dropped to his lap, tented now by the sheet. Then shot back to his face.
She trembled violently, her breathing so ragged he could see her pert breasts rising and falling beneath her T-shirt.
Why the hell is my first erotic fantasy in over a year not naked? Can’t I even fantasize properly anymore?
The strangely normal thought reverberated in his head.
“I’m Roisin, your new personal assistant.” The words rushed out on a breathless murmur.
Painful reality detonated in Nate’s frontal lobe, and fury engulfed him.Not a dream. But the new employee. Did Brett tell this woman to sneak into my bedroom? That son of a… My former COO is officially a dead man.
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