Surrender to Temptation by Lauren Jameson Read Free Book Online Page A

have no idea what you started.
“Starting” would imply that whatever was between us wasn’t over.
    Then where the hell
was
he?
    Mrs. Gallagher sniffed when she saw that she didn’t have my full attention. With a loud huff of coffee-scented breath, she slapped a small parcel, plainly wrapped in brown paper, onto my desk.
    I tucked a stray wisp of hair from my ponytail behind my ear and blinked at the unmarked package. When I looked up at the woman with a questioning expression, she huffed again, and I felt as if, somehow, I should have known what the package contained.
    â€œThis was just delivered. It came with instructions. You, and only you, are to deliver this upstairs to Mr. St. Brenton. Make sure that you are the one to deliver it into his hands.”
    I barely registered the aggrieved expression on Mrs. Gallagher’s face—why was I being sent into the sacred den of he who ruled the building when she had seniority, after all? But my heart had leapt into my chest when I’d heard the man’s name, and anticipation followed, making my skin prickle with gooseflesh.
    I stared at it, willing the brown paper to unwrap before my eyes and give me some hint, some clue, about what I was to face upstairs. All I got was a pencil rapped sharply on the glossy surface of my desk, very near my knuckles.
    â€œGet going, then, Miss Devon Reid. Unless you think you’re too good to play delivery girl.” With murmured words to the negative I stood, took the parcel in hand and scurried toward the elevators.
    I could feel the older woman’s stare following me, poking at the chicken wings of my shoulder blades. When I turned back briefly after pressing the elevator button, I was surprised to see that the expression the other woman wore was no longer one of annoyance, but worry.
    Why would she be worried about my delivering this package? I was the one who was about to face the unknown.
    Why, oh why did that word make something dark and needy twist itself tightly inside me with anticipation?
    I quickly forgot about Mrs. Gallagher as the elevator climbed from the third floor of the building, up and up, sliding toward its goal of floor twenty-six. I caught sight of myself in the mirrored walls, and I wasn’t thrilled with what I saw.
    My black skirt and sweater were tidy, but plain. My hair was in a ponytail, loose ends flying out every which way, and soft bruises under my eyes caused by several sleepless nights were clearly visible through the thin layer of makeup that didn’t hide much in fluorescent lighting.
    It didn’t matter what I looked like, in my heart I knew this. But as I thought of the feeling of Zach inside of me, of his mouth on my breasts, I shivered, my nipples tightening, and I wished—hard—that I had worn something else. Something prettier.
    Something sexier.
    The woman who sat at a desk as big as a lake, directly in front of the elevator doors that opened in front of me, was clearly younger than me—quite a feat, since I was only twenty-four—and had smooth, icy blond hair and an equally slick smile.
    She beamed that smile my way, but I didn’t feel welcome. She didn’t speak, just waited, and I knew that I had been out-bitched in a major way.
    â€œI’m here to deliver this to Mr. St. Brenton.” I raised my chin up a bit and tried to forget that that morning I had noticed a tiny hole in the seam of my skirt. It was at my hip, covered by my sweater, but I was so uncertain in that moment that I was sure the perfect-looking creature knew.
    She smiled some more, and I held up the box. She reached for it, and I pulled it tight against my belly.
    â€œI’ll pass that along to Zach—Mr. St. Brenton, as soon as he’s free.” I knew that the name slip wasn’t an accident. The woman was challenging me, and I couldn’t imagine why.
    â€œI need to deliver it to him myself.” I tried to keep my words steady, though I