The Hotter You Burn

The older woman hissed. “I know who she is. She’s the bully who caused many of my students to cry.”

Cora was a former schoolteacher, with the index finger from hell. Whenever she pointed it in your direction, you felt the flames rise up and lick at your feet. “Now, Cora,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” Harlow interjected, stepping forward on her own. “I regret my childhood actions every day, and I hope you’ll give me a chance to prove I’m a different person now.”

Beck liked that she made no excuses. She copped to her wrongdoing and accepted full responsibility.

Cora wasn’t so easily convinced. “Time will tell, Miss Glass. Time will tell.”

“I agree.”

He draped his arm around Harlow’s waist in a show of support, but immediately regretted the decision. She fit him perfectly. Too perfectly. “If you need us, we’ll be in my office.” Beck led her through the building, saying, “What do you think of West’s nerdatory?”

“The walls are beige,” Harlow said, and he barked out a laugh.

He should have known she’d focus on the lack of color.

Once he had her settled on the couch in his office, and himself behind the desk, he said, “Why were you a bully as a kid?”

Up went her chin, a stubborn action he recognized and was coming to hate. But she also rubbed her fingers over her stomach, as if tracing a familiar pattern. “Maybe I was born rotten to the core.”

On to her tricks now, he shook his head. “I had Jase ask around. Also, I’ve seen pictures of you when you were little.” No reason to lie, every reason not to. There was a shaky trust building between them, and a single untruth would cause it to crumble. “Once upon a time, you were a sweetheart with sad eyes.”

“Pictures?” She blinked as realization struck. “You found my box. In my—your—closet.”

“Yes.”

“But...why didn’t you throw them away, like everything else?”

He shifted in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable. “Maybe I hoped I’d find a nude of adult Harlow.”

The prettiest pink brightened her cheeks. “Yes, well, I’m sure the people in town gave Jase an earful about all the times I wasn’t such a sweetheart.”

“They did, but I don’t care about what you once did, only why. I have an interesting childhood myself.”

In a small voice, she said, “Really?”

Hoping she would soften if she knew a little about him, he admitted, “I ran away from several foster homes. I was involved in multiple fights and a few other unsavory exploits. I left a trail of broken hearts in my wake.”

She opened her mouth, closed it. Opened, closed. “You were in foster care?”

“Yes. Now, what happened to you?”

Plucking at the hem of her skirt, she said, “Nothing original, really. My dad called me names, and I called other people names.”

The thought of little Harlow subjected to verbal and mental abuse enraged him. “Your dad is gone now?”

“Yes.”

Too bad. Beck would have enjoyed dishing his own brand of abuse. “Why did you stop being a bully?”

She looked away, licked her lips. “What do you want me to do first, boss?”

Damn it, he’d pushed too soon for too much. What would it take to get her to open up? And why did he even care? It wasn’t as if he had to know her secrets to enjoy her delectable little body.

“Just sit there and look pretty while I get some work done,” he grumbled, focusing on his computer screen and the thousand emails waiting to be answered. “I haven’t seen the set or character descriptions on the latest game contract.”

He was able to block Harlow out...until she shifted on the couch. Her jean skirt rode higher up her thighs. Such lovely thighs. He was going to love trailing his tongue up, up from her knees to the edge of the denim. With a slight push of his fingers, his tongue would be able to complete the journey and find—

“Beck,” she said, breathless. “Whatever you’re thinking about...”

He was staring at her, he realized, gripping the edge of his desk, seething with the need to pull the blinds over the glass walls and dive on her. “You’d like it. Ask nicely, and I’ll show you.”

The building’s front door opened, sunlight pouring inside along with Mark and Kimberly of S&S Financial. Right. His eight-o’clock meeting. A welcome distraction.

“Never mind.” The company had only recently signed up as a client, and now Beck had to explain the operating systems more thoroughly.

“Mr. Ockley.” Cora’s voice spilled from the speakerphone. “Mr. Timberlane and Miss Potus are here to see you.”

He picked up the phone. “Send them back.”

As the pair made their way to his office, Harlow asked, “Should I step outside?”

No longer have her within reach? “You need to familiarize yourself with the inner workings of the business. Stay and take mental notes.”

“Yes, sir.” Her ocean-water gaze lingered on Mark as he entered, and Beck tensed, a curse brewing at the back of his throat...until she turned her attention to Kimberly, giving the young woman a once-over, abject longing overtaking her expression. She looked herself over, too, and plucked at a bit of lint on her T-shirt.

Beck’s heart melted at the self-conscious gesture. She outshone the other woman by miles, but she had no idea.