And Lord. Lord oh Lord. It had become my go-to internal chant. The man could melt the panties off damn near any woman. Me included. I realized now that the speech he’d given me the day he’d ‘hired’ me was probably the longest set of words he’d ever strung together. He didn’t use two words when one would do. Which meant I got a lot of—“Yes,” “No,” and “Good”—in response to my comments and questions. The men who ran in my circle were usually entirely too happy to talk about themselves. Ask one question and a guy could go on and on about his hobbies or job for an hour. After four and a half days, I still knew almost nothing about Lord that had come from the man himself. I picked up bits and pieces from Mathieu, but what I learned through that avenue only made me more curious. I also knew a little from Vanessa, but again, that just added to my growing list of questions.

For example, I knew that Lord and Con had been separated as kids and hadn’t been reunited until they’d enlisted in the Army. He was three years older than Con, which put him at thirty-four. Vanessa had told me that Con’s early life in foster care hadn’t been the best, and something made me think that Lord’s had been even less of a fairy tale. I wanted answers, but it wasn’t like these were questions I could come out and ask, no matter how badly I wanted to. So I took a page out of Lord’s book and listened and watched and waited. It was a process that required patience, which wasn’t something I could generally claim as a strength. But every time I danced back to the office to crow over a big sale and he’d crack a smile at my excitement, I felt like I’d won a minor victory—even though my attempts to flirt had gone completely unnoticed.

I wasn’t giving up though. All I had to do was look at the guy, and I had a hundred ideas of how we could break in the couch in his office. He was at least six foot six, with shoulders like a linebacker. I’d caught him changing his T-shirt in the office after he’d come back from tinkering with the cars out in the warehouse. His abs? Holy motherfucking hell. Eight pack, ladies. Eight pack. And that V that disappeared into his worn jeans? I wanted to drop to my knees and trace it with my tongue. I had to back away before I mauled the man. And don’t get me started on the ink… I’d understood Vanessa’s fascination with her boyfriend’s tattoos on a surface level. They were edgy and dangerous and definitely sexy. But on Lord? Cue wet panties and sleepless nights. Every time his arms flexed I wanted to tell him to hold still so I could study the designs and maybe pet them. If one was even allowed to pet the sexy, blue-eyed man beast. I shivered just thinking about him. And to cap off his insane body and artwork, he had this hot, blond buzz cut that I wanted to scrape my nails through and an elusive smile I’d made it my mission to see as often as possible.

The front chime sounded, and I shook off the thoughts of my too-hot-for-his-own-good boss.

But apparently today was Tempt Elle with Drop Dead Sexy Men day.

A big man, with light caramel-colored skin, a shadow of dark hair, and piercing silver eyes stepped into the shop. I did a double take because the guy was a dead ringer for Shemar Moore from Criminal Minds—one of my all-time favorite TV shows.

Hello, hot stuff.

He stood just inside the doorway, and his presence filled the room. He exuded power—a lot like the intensity that hovered around Lord, but darker. More menacing. My hot stuff thought morphed into dangerously hot. The kind of hot you wouldn’t go out of your way to tangle with because who knew if you’d survive it. And, working in this part of town, my survival instincts were improving rapidly.

Those unusual silver eyes pinned me where I stood. I wanted to glance back toward the office in hopes that Mathieu would have heard the chime and would be poking his head out right now, but I couldn’t look away, and Mathieu didn’t magically appear beside me.

He lifted his chin at me, and a devastating smile spread across his face. “So now I see what my boys are all talking about.”

Say what now?

“Excuse me?” I asked, careful to keep my voice steady.

“You might be a little thing, but you’ve made a big impression on my boys. I had to come see the sexy-as-hell redhead they’re all talking about.”

I frowned. First, I wasn’t little. I was five foot seven with kickin’ curves. Tits and ass, thy name is Elle. It just seemed that all the guys who came in here were freaking giants. Second—and more importantly—I didn’t know who this guy was or why he had boys, but I knew I didn’t like the fact that I was being talked about.

He held out a hand. “I’m Rix. Nice to finally meet you, Elle.”

A ripple of unease slid through me. He knew my name. And apparently I had some kind of reputation. Nope. I didn’t like this at all. Red flags waved in my brain wildly.

But his eyes were mesmerizing, and I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out to shake his hand.

“So, you’re Lord’s new girl.”

“Ummm … I’m his new employee,” I replied.

Rix tilted his head to the left a fraction of an inch and studied me. “So you’re not his girl.” The man didn’t ask questions; he made statements. I was also pretty sure I was screwing something up here.

I was saved from answering by the squeak of the back door hinges and heavy booted footsteps walking toward us.

Lord’s presence filled the shop just as effectively as Rix’s, and a battle for dominance waged in the air. I tugged my hand out of Rix’s grip.

“Are you here to see Lord?” I asked, attempting nonchalance, and becoming bolder now that I knew I had back up coming my way.

Rix never took his eyes off me. “No. I came here to see you, Elle.”

That ripple of unease? It was growing exponentially.

Lord dropped a takeout bag on the far end of the counter as he came around to stand behind me. The heat of his body radiated through the thin cotton of my dress.

“Rix,” Lord said, finally drawing the man’s attention off my face. I almost sagged into him with relief.

“Lord,” the other man replied.

“You need something?” Lord’s tone sharpened with an unmistakable edge of challenge.

Rix shook his head. “Just came to see what all the fuss was over this new woman you got. I expected another like Bree—wasn’t expecting high class. Your taste is improving.”

Okay. Now, I really didn’t appreciate being discussed as though I wasn’t present. Not a damn bit.