Mistaken Identity: The Cold CEO's Runaway Lover

fading down the hall, Mark Foster gestured for Aubree to stay behind. The moment the door clic

clammy hand on her shoulder.

g off his touch. "I don't

y Julian Sterling was looking at you? The way he ze

he said, her voice firm, level. "Toda

ep doing it. A little personal charm can go a long way in closing a deal like this. The compa

e into this project. The idea that her success might be attributed to some perceived sexua

ical specifications of the project," she

d again. Julian stood there, leaning against the doorfram

have gotten turned around. Could you point me to the elevators

g! Aubree, why don't you escort Mr. Sterling down? Make sure he fin

it as a shield. She walked stiffly towards the door, pointedly ignor

ir footsteps. She kept her eyes fixed straight ahead,

o me," Julian murmured, his voice a

ect your filthy, transactional worldview onto me," she hisse

ows of a recessed doorway. The clean, sharp scen

athed, leaning down, his lips hov

inst her ribs. "There are people," she managed to sa

fted a hand and gently, with the back of his knuckles, brushed a stray strand of hair f

ed. At that exact moment, the elevator at the

vat

nto the empty car. She jabbed the button fo

, his hand shot out, pressing not the 'door open' button, but the button for the roof

cried, her voice echoing i

d until her back was pressed against the cold, mirrored wall of the elevato

in his dark eyes, the tense set of his jaw. The space was so sma

voice a low, dangerous growl. "You owe

y, his thigh pressing against her knee, effectively pin

y despite the terror coiling in her stomach, "I will scream. I

oor. The doors slid open to reveal a stark, conc

le spread across his face. He pushed himself off the wall, creating an inch of space be

ly, "was just the be

tor, leaving her alone, trembling and