3

“That’s impossible. It has to be here,” Lana cried as her fingers

skimmed across the keyboard of her office computer, her eyes frantic. After several long minutes she finally stopped and whipped her chair around, nearly throwing Matthew off balance, who’d been leaning against it to peer over her shoulder.

“I don’t know what happened. When I left Thursday it was here. I promise you.”

“It was your account, Lana. If you don’t have it then no one else does,” Matthew said coolly.

For several moments she just stared at him with blinking eyes, not really knowing what to say or do. She was at a complete loss. When she’d cleaned out her desk two days ago she had been sure to leave all company files on her computer or on disks in her office. It was company

policy. Once an employee ended his or her relationship with Renault, they were obligated by law to leave all materials pertaining to Renault

accounts at the office. It was to ensure that private information did not somehow end up in the hands of their competitors. Lana hadn’t broken the rules. She had left everything but her personal belongings at the office.

So, when she’d received a call from Matthew saying that he couldn’t locate the files for the New Zealand account anywhere on her computer or in her office, she’d raced down there on a Saturday still dressed in her “lounging at home on a Saturday morning” attire of faded jeans, flip flop

sandals and a canary yellow tank top.

“I—I don’t know what to tell you,” she stammered. This had never happened to her before. She had never in her entire time at the company lost an account.

Matthew straightened to his full height and of its own volition, her gaze traced the outline of his rippling muscles that strained against his short sleeved white cotton t-shirt. She swallowed the lump in her throat. He looked every bit as young as he was in what appeared to be his gym clothes. But he was still strikingly handsome.

She used every ounce of self restraint not to let her eyes dip lower where she’d glimpsed the faint outline of his impressive cock through the thin material of his grey sweat pants when she’d first arrived. She was so used to seeing him in suits that his casual attire had jolted her. Being there with him on a Saturday, in plain clothes, gave the meeting a slightly more intimate feel to it. She gulped down a deep breath, trying to ease the furious beating of her heart. His nearness was unsettling in the close space with just the two of them—alone.

“We meet with the Auckland Regional Council in two weeks. We can’t simply show up there empty handed—”

“Well that’s your problem, not mine,” she said, shooting to her feet. “I quit two days ago, remember.”

His eyes flashed with surprise at her flippant words. She could tell he hadn’t been expecting that response. Well, gone were the days where she slaved and sacrificed her nights and weekends for Renault. She no longer cared.

“Lana, you told me if I had any questions to give you a call—”

She folded her arms across her chest. “And you did call, with your question, and I answered—” She shrugged her shoulders. “—with an ‘I don’t know’,” she said, not even trying to mask the sarcasm in her voice.

She watched as Matthew’s eyes narrowed to slits, his eyes hardening to tiny chips of blue ice. She could tell by the dark scowl on his face that her offhand comment had struck a nerve.

“Lana, what is your problem? I am telling you that I need your help—”

She stiffened at the simmering fury in his eyes, her own gaze turning cold. “Well you’re CEO now so you don’t really need my help,” she spat out, realizing how childish she sounded, but she didn’t care.

“I already told you I had nothing to do with that,” he said gently.