All of them made exclusively for the incredible body before him.
His horrible morning dissolved under the rush of creative energy.
“What are you thinking?” he heard her say, her voice echoing slightly as she pulled him from his own head, that place where he created all the things he needed, wanted, with the easy strokes of his mind.
It didn’t matter whether it was building plans, an office design, extensive renovations...or, apparently, wedding dresses. He had only to envision it and the lines appeared in the forefront of his mind. It was very helpful, incredibly productive and totally intoxicating.
Which was the only explanation he had for what he did next. Reaching around her to the desk, he snagged paper and a drawing pencil. The move brought him flush with her side, prompting a surge of heat wherever their bodies met, though he forced himself to move away quickly.
He could tell she felt it, too, by the widening of her eyes and the way she held her breath. He shoved the materials on the table aside and started to draw. Within minutes, he had a simple outline of the pink satin dress he’d imagined, though he kept the distinctive characteristics of the model vague.
“Wow,” she breathed. “That’s gorgeous.”
“Thank you.”
Her smile warmed him, intoxicating in its sincerity. He often had the feeling that she simply responded to him the way she should, the way an assistant was expected to respond to her boss. Not this time.
Fire lurked beneath the surface of this buttoned-down babe, and he desperately wanted to release it—even if he was her boss.
“I mean it,” he continued, anxious to avoid the temptation of his thoughts. “You’ve shown me exactly what I need.”
Before he could do something stupid like kiss those full red lips, he pivoted on his heel and walked away. Now that he had a direction, he knew just how to carry it out.
Eternity Designs would never be the same.
Sloan stalked down the hall toward the elevators, the adrenaline still thrumming through his veins. Pictures of Ziara racing through his mind.
“How’s your new assistant working out, Sloan?”
Damn it. He’d been so close to the open doorway!
He pivoted to find Vivian standing in the shadows. Had she been waiting for him to walk by? Had she watched as he and Ziara talked?
“Great choice, Vivian. She’ll serve me just fine, I think.”
Vivian studied him with the same barely tolerant expression she’d used after many of his teenage escapades. “What’s wrong?”
Ah, the pitfalls of working with someone who’d watched him grow up. He moved a few steps closer. Lowering his voice, he tightened his control over the high levels of excitement, frustration and arousal still surging through his veins.
“It won’t work, Vivian. Whatever reason you have for planting Ziara in my office—it won’t work. I’m still going to do what I think is best for Eternity.”
Patronizing was the only way to describe her smile. “I know exactly where Ziara’s loyalties lie. She’ll do the job I gave her.”
“I’m going ahead with my plans, regardless.” The feel of the sketch held securely in his grasp brought a surge of certainty. He was on the right path; now he needed the one person who would help him carry it out.
“So you’ve talked the Old Brigade into actually carrying out your crazy theme?” she asked, concern dampening her smug demeanor. Ah, she’d be so happy if he was stuck working with her two lackeys, wouldn’t she?
“Robert and Anthony will fall in line soon enough.” His chest tightened as all his earlier frustration rushed forward again.
She shook her head slowly. “Not according to Robert—I believe his exact words were ‘over my dead body.’”
Her smug expression shattered his control like nothing else could have. “I wouldn’t get too tickled if I were you.”
“And why is that?”
“I’m about to turn Eternity Designs upside down.”
The ding of the elevator signaled his escape. Sloan strode through the doors and turned back to see Vivian’s perplexed expression just as they closed.
Five
Ziara dished up her quick version of paella into an oversize, bright green bowl, pausing a moment to inhale the spicy scent of peppers, andouille sausage and shrimp. Padding across to the table, she savored the coolness of the tiled kitchen floor on her bare feet.
After a long, deep drink of sweetened tea, she picked up her book in one hand and her fork in the other. Having survived her rough day at work, her mind craved the relaxing and safe surroundings of home. An early start to her weekend.
She’d worked so hard for her house and turned it into her very own sanctuary. Most important, it was as far from the environment she’d grown up in as possible.