Only one thing he regretted: not having insisted on Rochelle giving him her phone number. Upon her refusal he’d hesitated and wondered if he really wouldn’t have called her. He’d missed his chance, because when he’d woken in his bed, alone, he’d realized that Rochelle had been wrong. He wouldn’t have made her wait for a call, because he wanted to see her again. He needed a woman like Rochelle in his life, a woman full of life and passion. A woman who made him feel carefree and reminded him that money couldn’t buy happiness.

The phone on his desk rang. Zach turned away from the window and took a deep breath, before walking to his desk and lifting the receiver.

“Yes?”

“Mr. Ivers, an agent from the Securities and Exchange Commission is here to see you. A Miss Wright. She insists on seeing you, even though she’s not on your calendar,” Jessica Talbot, his assistant announced.

“Miss Wright?” he asked. The SEC’s bloodhound was a woman?

“Yes, sir. Do you want me to schedule an appointment for her for another time? Your calendar is quite packed this morning—”

“It’s fine, Jessica,” he interrupted. “Send her in.” He put down the receiver.

He was prepared to face the agent. It didn’t matter that the SEC had sent a woman. He wouldn’t treat her any differently than a male agent. Taking a deep breath, he remained standing behind his desk and watched as Jessica pushed the door open and then stepped aside.

“Miss Wright, sir,” she announced.

When the female agent appeared in the door frame and stepped into the office, Zach froze.

“Mr. Ivers, on behalf of the Securities and Exchange Commission, I’m here to investigate you for insider trad—”

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As if paralyzed, Miss Wright stopped in her tracks and left her sentence hanging in midair.

Zach didn’t want to believe his eyes and blinked. But the scene in front of him didn’t change. The woman standing just inside his office was none other than the passionate Rochelle from the night before.

“May I bring coffee or tea, sir?” Jessica asked into the silence.

Zach ran his eyes over Rochelle. She wore a conservative gray skirt and matching jacket with a pink blouse. In her hand, she held a briefcase. Her hair was pulled back into a severe bun, but that didn’t change the fact that she was the woman he’d been with last night. The woman with whom he’d practically set the sheets on fire, so hot had their lovemaking been.

“Sir?” Jessica repeated, while her gaze darted back and forth between him and Rochelle. “Coffee?”

He ripped his eyes from Rochelle and forced a nonchalant smile onto his lips. “Thank you, Jessica, coffee sounds great.” Then he looked back at Rochelle, whose facial expression was frozen in apparent shock.

That little bitch! She’d come on to him last night in order to rattle him and most likely also to get information from him, which would help her with her case against him. Did she really think he’d give away any secrets just because she’d slept with him?

“And Jessica,” he added when his assistant had already turned to leave. “Why don’t you have the coffee shop from the first floor send up some pastries? I’m sure Miss Wright won’t mind a fortifying snack.”

After all, last night she’d burned a hell of a lot of calories.

“I’ve already had breakfast, thanks,” Rochelle bit out.

Probably on his dime.

He hadn’t missed the outraged tone in her voice. What did she have to be outraged about? She’d been the one who’d come onto him. If she thought he’d give in this easily, she had it coming.

“But Miss Wright, the pastries in our little cafe are better than in any hotel in the city. You should try them. I’m sure you love to taste new things from time to time.”

Yeah, like his cock for example. She’d devoured that like a delicious lollipop.

“I’ll bring a selection,” Jessica said quickly and pulled the door shut behind her.

Had she noticed the tension between him and Rochelle? Even if she had, right now, he didn’t care.

He tossed Rochelle an assessing look. “Well, isn’t this interesting? An SEC agent. What a coincidence that you ended up in my local bar,” he said with a great dose of sarcasm and walked around his desk. “What did you have planned? Seduce me so that I’ll part with confidential information that you can then—”

“That’s outrageous!” she interrupted, and set her briefcase on the floor.

“Are you denying that you came on to me in the Fountain Bar?” Like an injured tiger, he approached her.




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