Overnight Cinderella Read Free

every pore. Blood pounded heavily through his veins, and he felt himself grow hard. He shifted his legs, easing the pressure against his inseam, and wondered if humans really could spontaneously combust.
    He wanted to close the door and lift her to the desk. To rip through her panties and take her quickly. The impulse was strong, and he hated the weakness. No one got the upper hand on Duke’s control. Discipline was all he had left, and he wouldn’t surrender it easily. Certainly not to some research librarian turned event coordinator.
    His abrupt knock hadn’t given her any warning but when he cleared his throat he got her attention. Cami gasped. She dropped her skirt without fastening the second garter. The thought of that unfastened garter hovered in his mind. This woman shouldn’t wear satin-and-lace undergarments.
    The dress was baggy and understated. Her low-heeled shoes were maidenly and her hairstyle old-fashioned. She was the type of woman who should wear cotton underpants and support hose. Why wasn’t she?
    Duke was uncomfortable. He knew enough about sexual harassment law to know he was in for a world of hurt if he said anything, yet he couldn’t keep quiet. The spectacular legs hidden under that ugly dress demanded mentioning. Was this what his body had sensed days earlier? That the ugly clothing was just camouflage for a spectacular woman?
    The intensity of her blush could heat a small house in winter. She averted her gaze and refused to look at him. Her nervousness evoked a tenderness that was at odds with his arousal. Yet just as strong. She fiddled with her glasses, taking them off and wiping them clean and then putting them back on.
    â€œI believe we have a ten-thirty meeting,” he said.
    â€œYou’re a few minutes early,” she snapped.
    Duke realized she intended to ignore the fact that she’d just had her skirt hiked halfway up to her waist. He forced the tantalizing image from his mind, though the loose garter remained. He didn’t believe in emotional entanglements. Least of all with klutzy, average-looking women.
    She held out her hand. He grasped it with the intent of releasing it as quickly as he had the other day. But her hand was soft—softer than any other he’d ever felt. Even his deceased wife’s hands hadbeen callused from evenings spent playing volleyball.
    He stroked her palm with his forefinger before he let his hand fall back to his side. He knew he shouldn’t have, but that damn unfastened garter lingered in his mind and the image of her on the desk, her sexy legs encircling his waist, remained in his mind.
    â€œPlease have a seat,” she said, motioning for him to use one of the two guest chairs. They were standard office issue and looked about as comfortable as wet shoes. Yet the rest of her office welcomed him in a way he’d never before experienced.
    A four-shelf bookcase overflowed with books, every tabletop surface held picture frames of large family groupings and individual members. Candle-holders and potpourri also abounded. It was the sweetest-smelling office on the floor. She had soft music with some woman chanting playing in the background.
    Her office—a reflection of the woman herself—was so feminine it bothered him. There was even a lace thing on the surface of her credenza crammed with myriad little dust-collecting knickknacks. He felt uncomfortable and out of place, like a warrior returning fresh from war to find his house had been taken over by aliens. The same way he felt when he walked by those damned lingerie stores in the mall. Hell, she probably spent a good deal of her time in those stores.
    â€œDuke, I’ve done some preliminary work on security for the Gala, but would love to hear your ideas.”
    He had some thoughts he’d love to share with her, too, but he had to keep his mind on business. Security for the Gala was crucial. With recent labor disputes, threats had been made.