The Billionaire's Allure by Vivian Leigh

The Billionaire's Allure
    By
    Vivian Leigh
    Copyright 2012 Vivian Leigh
    All rights reserved.
    ***
    The back stairwell of Adamson Aerospace was my favorite place in the building. It gave me a few moments of privacy every morning as I climbed to my cubicle, and in the bustle of Washington, those were precious moments. The wide windows and stunning view didn’t hurt, but the best part was passing the handsome stranger every morning.
    He sat in the same place every day, a private balcony off the building’s café, the one only available to level As and above. He screamed power with his strong jaw line, tailored suits and handmade shoes. I knew he was so far out of my league that I was lucky to even see him, but in my fantasies it didn’t matter. Underneath the well-made shoes and expensive suit was a sturdy body--a body ready and willing to engage in every naughty fantasy I could imagine. They were my fantasies; why shouldn’t I pick the best looking man in town?
    After four years in a grueling undergrad program, I was a professional fantasizer. I barely had time to date, not that I was asked much growing up. Who could blame the boys, after all? A plump book worm wasn’t as sexy as a cheerleader. Now, on my own in the real world, I was struggling to stay ahead of the workload my bosses kept piling on me. I may have lost a few pounds, but I didn’t have enough time for relationships, and I had never been the sort to have a one night stand. I couldn’t help the fantasies, though. The thought of a man like that pressing his body to mine made my heart beat a little faster.
    I licked my lips and hurried past him, my eyes drinking in his image. He couldn’t be much past thirty, but somehow he was able to take his breakfast on the private balcony. I watched him from the stairwell as I passed, adding fuel to my fantasies, without him ever knowing I was there.
    As I turned the corner and went a level above, I paused, and gazed down. A newspaper lay spread before him, a fruit cup and glass of orange juice beside it. I imagined his breath on my neck, his strong fingers holding my arms. It made me warm just thinking about it.
    Without warning, he looked up and met my eyes. I gasped. His dark hair, stubbled cheeks, and deep blue eyes pierced through my clothing. His dark and dangerous look made heat build in my abdomen. I could feel my muscles tighten and my nipples harden. What was my body doing? Was I that in need of attention? Realization and embarrassment washed over me. It was one thing to watch him from a distance, unseen, but to have his attention on me, I felt like a field mouse in front of a mountain lion. I startled and hurried up the stairs, my heart racing. As I glanced sideways on the next landing, I saw him raise an eyebrow inquisitively, but the rest of his face gave me no clues about what he was thinking. I broke the connection and climbed the stairs with my eyes locked forward, afraid of him catching me watching again.
    By the time I reached the fourth floor, I had calmed down a little, but my hands still shook as I opened the door. I hustled to my cubicle with the other paralegals and signed into my computer. I had to concentrate, to get through the documents in my inbox before my 8:30 meeting, but my mind wouldn’t stop churning. I couldn’t afford to lose this job, not with the economy in the state it was in—there weren’t other jobs available, at least none that would get me the kind of experience I needed if I was ever going to get into law school.
    I skimmed through the documents, but focus wouldn’t come. I struggled through my 8:30 meeting, then returned to my cube to digest government contracts for an hour. Adamson Aerospace provided software for all manner of guidance systems, and my job was to parse the contracts to ensure that we didn’t expose ourselves to excess liability. Well, sort of. I was one of several people that parsed them; all I did was raise red flags for my boss and her boss. Exciting