But nothing – nothing – could have properly prepared her for meeting a man like him. Tessa had known from staring at his photo on the corporate website for untold hours that he was handsome, but there was absolutely no way any photo – no matter how detailed or professionally done – could do him justice. In person he was simply – well, splendid was the word that came to mind. Several inches taller than she had imagined, Ian Gregson was also far more muscular and almost intimidatingly strong than she would have guessed. His wide-shouldered, broad-chested frame had taken up a great deal of room in his spacious, well appointed office, and for perhaps the first time since her teens Tessa had felt small and dainty standing beside a man.

But it hadn’t been simply his physical presence that had overwhelmed her – though that of course had been far more than enough. He had an aura about him, something she couldn’t precisely put her finger on, but he positively oozed power, charisma, and authority, and she guessed that nearly everyone who met him – male or female - experienced a similar sort of reaction their first time in his presence .

She closed her eyes for a brief moment, recalling that heart-stopping moment when their gazes had met and she’d felt spellbound by those intelligent, all-knowing hazel eyes. Her hand still tingled a bit from where he’d clasped it all too briefly, his skin warm and firm to the touch. He was by far the handsomest man she’d ever seen, with his expertly cut dark hair, lightly tanned skin, and strong but aristocratic features. He was elegant and sophisticated, wearing his charcoal gray pinstriped suit and conservatively patterned tie with an air that fairly shrieked class and privilege.

And yet, in those few brief moments when she’d stared into his eyes – nearly swooning in reaction as she’d done so – Tessa had caught a glimpse of another side of the debonair Ian Gregson. She sensed that beneath the expensive designer suit and suave, gentlemanly mannerisms there existed a wilder, more primitive facet of his personality – one that he rarely if ever allowed anyone to see.

Almost without being aware of her actions, she lifted the hand he had held clasped in his and brought it to her face. If she concentrated hard enough she could still feel his much larger and more powerful hand holding hers, and how warm his skin had felt. And if she focused her attention just so she could recall the way he had smelled – a clean, fleeting scent of soap or a discrete aftershave. The smell had been deliciously arousing, and she had to stifle a tiny groan as she realized that being in his presence for less than five minutes had turned her into a quivering puddle of goo.

“You doing okay there, sweetie pie? You, uh, look a little flushed to me. Not coming down with something, are you? I told you not to work so hard.”

Tessa was startled out of her reverie at the sound of Kevin’s concerned voice to her left. She gave a hasty shake of her head. “No, no. I’m fine, thanks. I just need a drink of water is all.”

She reached somewhat clumsily for the reusable bottle she kept on her desk, and drank thirstily. Kevin continued to regard her with an odd expression on his face, and then a knowing grin split his features.

“Betcha I know what’s got you all hot and bothered,” he chuckled. “Didn’t you have an audience with His Hotness just a few minutes ago? Believe me, that’s enough to raise anyone’s body temperature a dozen degrees or so.”

Tessa cursed beneath her breath as she felt her cheeks pinken. “I – I did meet him just now, yes. He, um, was very nice, very polite.”

Kevin hooted with laughter. “Nice? Well, I guess he can be when the occasion calls for it. Mostly though he’s cool and detached, especially with the admin staff. Very British, and some people would go so far as to call him a snob. I’ve heard that even when he loses his cool he never really raises his voice or swears. Doesn’t have to. One disapproving look from him is enough to make most people pee their pants.”

She merely nodded in response and forced herself to return her focus to the rather intimidating pile of work on her desk. But Kevin – unfortunately – wasn’t quite finished fishing for details as yet.

“So, what did you think?” he persisted. “Isn’t he the most drop dead gorgeous hunk of man you’ve ever laid eyes on? Even if he is a cold fish.”

“He’s a very good looking man,” agreed Tessa in what she hoped was a neutral voice. “But also extremely businesslike, like you said. I think I was in and out of his office in less than five minutes. I expect he’s very busy, especially since he just returned from a trip.”

“The boss man does work hard,” acknowledged Kevin. “Not like some of these CEO’s or executives who are more or less figureheads and let everyone else do their job for them. His Hotness actually works for a living, unlike a couple of other managers around here. I guarantee you that if that lazy sod Jason Baldwin hadn’t married into the Gregson family there’s no way he’d have a cushy job like this one. Betcha the boss man wishes he could fire Jason’s sorry ass.”

Tessa silently wished the same thing, but realized that wasn’t likely to happen. She wondered vaguely if Mr. Gregson was aware of how much his cousin-in-law flirted openly with the women around here, or had overheard some of the very suggestive comments Jason had made. She knew instinctively that a refined gentleman like Ian Gregson would never act in such a manner, whether it was here at the office or anyplace else. He was such an overwhelmingly attractive man that women would automatically flock to him like bees to honey, and he undoubtedly could have his pick anytime he chose of the most beautiful, desirable woman in the room. He wouldn’t have to resort to tired pick-up lines or clever innuendoes to attract a woman. All he would have to do, thought Tessa with a dreamy little sigh, would be to simply walk inside a room, stand there, and let nature take its course. And whatever he might say – in that deep, cultured and oh so sexy British accent – would virtually melt a woman’s panties off, along with the rest of her clothes.

She resisted the urge to squirm on her chair now, belatedly aware that her own panties were wet, as were the inside of her thighs. She felt embarrassed, ashamed, and more than a little guilty to be thinking such thoughts about a man who wasn’t her husband, even though she’d been having sporadic erotic dreams about the very same man for more than two years. Meeting him in person, though, was far more potent than dreaming about him occasionally, and she couldn’t help feeling as though she’d been run over by a steamroller as a result.