Erogenous Zones: Monica's Secret Read Free Page A

was back with Flynn Elwood.
    Elwood pursed his lips before answering. “Monica Evans is a good worker, she’s been with us for over ten years, but you’ll find her a bit of an ice queen.”
    That was some inappropriate comment. Owen’s eyebrows lifted. This guy was really unsettled. He rose to his feet and was about to cross to the wall-mounted frame and take a

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    look at this Monica Evans, when the door clicked open and he got to see the housekeeping manager in the flesh, instead.
    As soon as he saw her, he knew he’d seen her before, when he’d been undercover. He recalled watching her as she glided through the hotel, the epitome of British reserve and efficiency. She’d always had a small, smart electronic notebook clipped to her waistband.
    How fortuitous that he’d attached himself to her, or maybe not. She was incredibly attractive.
    He couldn’t afford to be distracted from the job. However, the job was supposed to be done by any means necessary. If he had to spend time with Monica Evans, maybe this project would be more pleasant than he had expected.
    Elwood had called her an ice queen. He couldn’t think of anything less appropriate.
    On the surface, perhaps. Pale blonde hair neatly clipped up, immaculate business suit and heels. Nothing in the least bit suggestive or raunchy in her demeanour or attire. If he went on presentation alone, he might be tempted to believe the ice queen moniker. But her face told an entirely different story. Flushed, wide-eyed and aroused, she seemed acutely aware of herself and everything around her. Her blue eyes were unnaturally bright and her soft lips were full and parted. Frankly, she looked as if she’d just had a hurried grope with the concierge in a broom cupboard.
    “Flynn, you requested my presence?” Her gaze darted around the office, taking in the three of them, then settled on her boss as she awaited his instruction.
    Owen decided to intervene. Why wait?
    Flynn Elwood issued an introduction from behind the desk, explaining their presence, but Owen stepped between the hotel owner and the attractive blonde and put out his hand.
    “Monica Evans, pleased to meet you. I’m Owen Clifford.”
    The woman stared down at his hand as if it were on fire.
    He reached in and grasped her hand. She shook it briskly then tried to pull free, eyeing him with an almost accusatory expression when he didn’t allow her to do so.
    Holding her small hand tightly inside his, he placed his free hand on her forearm, holding on to her and moving closer as he continued to speak. “I’ve come down here under instruction from Cumbernauld’s Board of Directors. My remit is to make suggestions about hotel promotions and the like.”
     

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    He gripped her hand tighter still as he spoke. His colleagues called his handshake his secret weapon and he always cashed in on that in his work, connecting with people on a personal level.
    Again, she tried to pull free.
    Again, he kept hold of her, and when he did, her façade faltered.
    Her eyes widened, and her lips parted in the most sensuous way. She took a deep, audible and faltering breath, and her pupils dilated. “Owen Clifford,” she repeated, somewhat breathlessly, her gaze shifting from his hand back to his face.
    Oh, if only he could read her mind. But her body told him enough. The way she looked at him made his blood pump south. This one was aroused, and she looked at him as if it was his fault. Surprised, Owen grinned. “It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you. I hope you don’t mind if we attach ourselves to you?”
    “Attach yourself?” Her question came out on another breathless rush and she seemed now to be savouring their connection, her eyelids lowering in a perfect gesture of submission, her hand softening within his grasp.
    Even if his interest hadn’t already been triggered, that would have done it. “Yes, my assistant and I will be here for a few days while we see if we can introduce some new ideas for