His office is nothing like I would have imagined. It has a feminine feel to it. He has a glass desk table with a high-back chair. The walls are cream and the couch is a light lilac color. There are no photos, no personal touches throughout the room. I fight the urge to laugh—this is definitely not a man’s office.

Jackson clears his throat again and I wonder if it’s a nervous habit of his. Could he be as nervous as I am? “I just moved into this office,” he begins, pausing as if carefully weighing his next words. “The person before me was obviously a female. Danielle was the acting CEO for the last ten months. I haven’t had time to change anything.” He closes his eyes, looking almost pained. I have the strangest urge to comfort him, but I resist.

“I understand. But for the record, purple’s not your color.” I sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk and start to get out my mock boards and planning sheet.

“No? And what color would you recommend, Ms. Pope?” Jackson asks, smiling.

“Hmmm, I’d say pink.” I look around before returning my gaze to him. “Definitely pink.”

Jackson comes around and sits in the chair next to me instead of behind the desk. His cologne assaults my senses as I inhale, breathing in all its masculinity. It’s even better than I remember and so much stronger.

I open my eyes to see him staring at me with a wide smile. He shifts in his seat and props his arm on the back of mine. “Pink, huh? Well only real men wear pink, and I assure you, Catherine, I’m all the real you’ll ever need.”

I cough, trying to regain my focus as his eyes bore into me.

“So, fall on any more men at dinner lately?”

And there it is.

“Actually, no. Thanks for being concerned, though.” I laugh while shaking my head.

“Good to know. I’d be jealous if you had.”

“Anyway, I brought the mock-up and I emailed Danielle the video.”

“I saw the video. It’s the reason you’re here now and not the other company.” His compliment washes over me. He didn’t hire me because he knew me, no. It was because of my vision and my plan for his company.

“I’m glad I impressed you.”

Jackson shifts in his chair and crosses his leg, getting closer to me. “I’m hoping there are many ways you’ll endeavor to impress me.” His tone is light and joking, but his eyes suggest the truth in his words.

He can’t touch me or I’ll crack. I try to move back in my chair, but there’s nowhere to go. I stand and start to pace. I’m nervous, wound up, and out of my element.

“Mr. Cole—”

“Jackson. You should call me Jackson. We’ll be together a lot,” he cuts me off. I turn to look out the window, trying to gather my thoughts.

I’m freaking out. I can’t do my job and work with him. I can’t think straight around him—he’s too much. Too sexy. Too intense. Too all-consuming. How am I going to do this? I can’t focus around him and if Jackson touches me, I’ll crumble. On the other hand, if I walk away from this account, I’ll never get the promotion. Shit. I could lose my job. Wouldn’t that be the icing on Neil’s cake? He would get the account and I’d be unemployed. No. No way. I can do this. I have to be strong.

I really need a vacation from my life.

I turn and he’s standing so close behind me that I almost collide with him. “Mr.—Jackson, I think we should go over your company’s goals and make a plan. It’s getting late.”

Jackson walks over behind his desk and sits in his chair. I follow, returning to the chair I was in before, thankful for the desk between us. If I can maintain distance and space with zero physical contact, then I can keep the account and my job. Let’s see how long this plan will last.

“How about we grab dinner?” he casually says.

“Dinner?”

“Yes, you know that meal that comes after lunch. I haven’t eaten yet and you probably haven’t either.” His eyes don’t waver from mine.

“I can’t. I have to do—”

“I’m pretty sure the stipulation was that you’re available whenever I need you.” He raises his brow as he taps his fingers on his desk.

“Yes, but we’ve yet to sign our contract.” I smile sweetly, but I can’t keep the exasperation out of my voice.

He stands and walks around the desk slowly. Each step is measured and deliberate. Every moment stirs something within me. My anxiety is already sky-high. I can’t take much more of this tonight. When he’s finally in front of me, he leans back on his desk and his voice drops when he asks, “Where’s the contract?”

I reach into my bag and pull out the paperwork that will solidify the deal. This is my last chance to walk away from him. I’ll have to see him, smell him, be around him, and there will be no backing out without me losing everything. Once he signs this, it’s over. I hold the papers in my hand, which is visibly shaking from my poorly concealed unease. Jackson reaches out, silently asking me to hand it over.

I stand and walk toward him with the contract extended between us. He grabs it and leans on his desk, signing on the dotted line without even reading it. Jackson puts the pen down and turns back to me. Though he doesn’t voice it, his expression says, “Gotcha.”

“Well, Ms. Pope, there’s no turning back now.”

I bite my bottom lip and my stomach drops as Jackson hands me back the signed contract. Oh God, what did I just do? I’m so stupid and in so much trouble. It’s as if he has some inside knowledge of what makes me tick, like he sees right through my layers of bullshit, straight to my libido. No man has ever made me this unbalanced. Even when Neil and I first started dating, I don’t think I was ever this scattered. But with Jackson I’m a mess.

I stare into his beautiful eyes. They’re dancing with humor. He smirks and holds my gaze, unwilling to break away first. Both of us struggle to gain the upper hand, knowing whomever breaks first is somehow showing they’re weaker than the other. I hold my eyes steady and smile, hoping they aren’t showing the internal war going on inside my head. I need to say something and put an end to this. “Mr. Cole, thank you for signing the contract. I really do need to go now.”

“We just made a deal and I told you to call me Jackson, twice. Now, let’s head to dinner,” he commands, his voice leaving no room for discussion.

“Jackson, please.” I take a deep breath, my eyes begging for understanding. “I really can’t tonight.” I have no good reason and if he pushes me, I’ll cave. My only reason is he scares me. I don’t trust myself around him.

He stands and walks over to my chair again. He grasps my chin between his finger and rough thumb. The feel of his skin against mine causes my pulse to race. I’m sure he can hear it. Just like the first night we met, he holds my face steady as he stares into my eyes, searching for something. “Fine, not tonight. However, I need you to meet me here Monday by 9 a.m. There are a few meetings I want you to sit in on with the production team and then we leave for Virginia on Friday.”

“Virginia?” I ask, completely thrown off.

“Yes, it’s a state a few states below New York.” His grin grows and his dimple deepens with his taunting.