My heels clicked loudly on the floor as I made my way across the lobby. Every step that took me closer to the beautiful Asian woman sitting at the desk made me rethink my decision. She finally looked up at me when I stood directly in front of her.

“Can I help you?” Her dark gaze took me in—measuring me as I was measuring her. The petite frame, the way her hands remained motionless, paused over the keyboard. It was like looking at a living mannequin.

“’I’m here to see Daegan, Daegan Wolfe.” My voice was husky from nervousness. I cleared my throat as the woman looked at me a second longer before she rested her hands on either side of the keyboard.

“You haven’t been here before.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“That wasn’t a question, but an observation.” The woman pursed her lips. “Do you at least have a card?”

“A card?” Nervousness was quickly being replaced with annoyance.

“A recommendation card, Daegan doesn’t just see anyone off the streets.”

“I’m not someone off the streets,” I retorted, even though I clearly was. The card Stephanie gave me came to mind. I opened my purse, got it out, and threw it on the desk. “That good enough for you?” I let my annoyance stand front and center.

She smiled at me. “I like you.” She picked up the card, then took out a small light and shined it on the card. “Ah, Stephanie gave this to you.”

“I don’t understand. How would you know that?” I’d looked at that card a thousand times as I contemplated coming to the office. I hadn’t seen her name or any other indication that Stephanie had given it to me.

“Perhaps you will.” She smiled at me. “Please, have a seat. I will return in a moment.” She rose, no, floated would be a better word. How she moved so silently with those heels, I’ll never know. The woman disappeared behind a thick, ornately carved wooden door. I wondered how her tiny arms could even pull open such a door.

I turned around, seriously thinking about just leaving. There was something odd about the office. I caught my reflection in the mirror—that might have cost more than my entire condo—and studied myself, trying to figure out why Chance had lost interest. My brownish-blonde hair was in a high, sleek ponytail. My mother’s hazel eyes stared back at me. I still had the same figure from the first day Chance and I met. I’ve been a little on the curvy side since becoming a teenager. I looked at my legs in the mirror. Long, lean, and lightly muscled, the legs of a runner, encased in a pair of heeled, kick-ass boots. I had a thing for boots.

Chance would often laugh at my obsession. Now we barely spoke. My eyes told it all. Even I could see the hollowness and sadness there. I’d been dead inside for a long time.

“Daegan will see you now, Miss…?”

“London.” I supplied for her, trying to cover up the fact that she had surprised me. The woman could sneak up on a ninja. And how in the hell did she do that in four-inch heels?

She nodded as she took the lead and guided me to Daegan’s office. I entered the room and heard the door snicker shut softly behind me. The smell of leather hit me first. There was leather and wood everywhere—definitely a man cave (office). What was I doing here? If Chance wanted things to end like this, why was I fighting it? Maybe I should go home and rethink the whole plan. I turned to go…

“So you’re a runner then?”

I froze. The voice was deep, resonating. I practically clenched my thighs together. There was way too much sex in that voice. Taking a deep breath, I turned around.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re a runner.” The sight before me almost stunned me into stupidity. How in the hell did a male like this exist? But there he stood, over six feet of insane gorgeousness. Black hair, still wet from the obvious shower he’d just taken, hung to his shoulders. He was the second man I’d seen fresh out of a shower, not a bad way to start the day.

Ice blue eyes were assessing me so quickly, I felt myself blush and wished I could stop it. I thought the chiseled jaw with the shadow of a beard would be a safer place to look, but I found myself gazing downward, to his well-formed chest. And then there was the light trail of silk black hair that led to a fairly impressive display of cock, barely banked under his towel. I quickly ascertained there was no safe zone to look at on this man. “Would you like some water, Flo Jo?”

He walked over to a small beverage bar and held up a bottle of water in question. I shook my head no, not trusting my voice to speak. He said nothing as he twisted the top off and stared at me, taking his eyes off of me only long enough to quickly drain the bottle. He sighed, appearing satisfied. “I always get terribly thirsty after a shower. I am so glad I made that renovation to my office bathroom. Best decision I’ve made all year.” He took the towel that was draped around his shoulders and began drying his hair. Every muscle in his perfectly formed arms seemed to call to me to lick them.

I took hold of my senses. This man had made fun of me twice without even asking my name. “You’re rude.” I clenched my jaw, not trusting myself to not say more on the subject. “And my name is Max, not Flo Jo.” And since I didn’t have a witty comeback for the runner comment I usually would have had, I ignored it.

“Then I stand corrected.”

He smiled at me with perfect white teeth that would feel amazing sinking into my shoulder as he grabbed my hips and rammed his cock in needy places…

“Who brings you here?”

Not only did I have to worry about holding my tongue, I also didn’t trust my imagination, that was clearly getting the best of me. Maybe I should have pulled out one of those toys Chance suggested to take the edge off. “You mean what, don’t you?”

“One thing you will learn about me, Max, is I always mean what I say. Again, who brings you here?”

“Stephanie gave me your card.”

He walked over to me and I swear the towel was threatening to come off with every step he took. He stopped in front of me, more that towering over me. My eyes followed a drop of water that slid into the towel. I could lick him dry a lot quicker than that towel could ever dry him.

“We seem to be having some communication difficulty.” One long, strong finger was under my chin as he positioned my face so that he was looking directly into my eyes. “Stephanie might have given you the card, but she gave it to you for a reason. Who is the reason, Max?”