Despite her troubles the week flew by for Serena. Work was a great salve for her wounds and the perfect source of distraction. Eventually she found she was beginning to enjoy what she was doing. She’d been consulting with the heads of various departments and working closely with the product development team. She was learning so much that she almost felt grateful to Roman for teaming up with her father to make her do the internship.
Almost. She was still a bit peeved at having been forced into it but even she had to admit that if she ever were to work in her father’s business this was just about the best preparation she could have had. Working with cross-functional teams was a true learning experience and one which opened her understanding of team dynamics and collaboration.
Before she knew where the week had gone, Friday came and she still had not completed project number two. Theresa told her that Roman had called every day to check on the progress of the assignment but he’d never spoken to her. Even though she was disappointed maybe that was a good thing. After all, what would she say to him? Or him to her? It would only create awkwardness on both sides. Besides, the next time she spoke to him she wanted to be able to say she’d completed all her projects.
That evening when everyone was calling TGIF to one another and packing to go Serena still sat at her desk plugging away. She was determined to finish the assignment before shutting down for the weekend. When Roman stepped in on Monday morning her finished reports would be sitting on his desk. What was more, they would exceed his expectations because she’d gone out of her way to commission professionally produced illustrations and charts. She’d even included a presentation on a new campaign idea she had, one that would take greater advantage of social media opportunities. That was the part that still needed fleshing out. It would take her a few more hours but she wasn’t complaining. It wasn’t like she was rushing home to family and friends. She was on her own now in many senses of the word.
Serena glanced at the clock. Six twenty-one in the evening. If she had any hope of leaving the place by nine she’d better get cracking.
*****
Roman relaxed into the plush leather seat of the limousine that was taking him from the airport back to his office. It was late, he knew, and everyone would have already left for home. After all, it was Friday. Which of his employees would give up their Friday night to work overtime? That would be a rare occurrence. In fact, he discouraged that sort of thing. For him, balance was important and the weekend was the time for relaxation, family and friends.
Unfortunately for him there was no family to run home to. All he’d be rushing to was a huge and empty penthouse suite freshly cleaned in anticipation of his return. His housekeeper would have made sure everything was spotless and a warm meal would be waiting for him. But what joy was that when you were eating alone?
So instead of heading for home he went straight to the office. He had no intention of staying there late. He’d retrieve a few files and then he’d be on his way.
He was surprised when he met the head of security in the lobby and learned that the building was not as empty as he had anticipated. One eager beaver, as the man put it, was still plugging away on the sixth floor at almost nine o’clock at night. That eager beaver was Serena Van Buren.
At the man’s words, Roman frowned. Serena? She was the last person he would expect to be working until this hour on a Friday night. He knew he’d left quite a bit for her to do in his absence but not so much that she’d have to give up her weekend. He would have to check on her. He’d deliberately avoided speaking to her while he’d been away on his business trip. He wanted to give her space, time to recover from that unhappy incident at her apartment. But now there was no avoiding it.
Roman was surprised when he got to a sixth floor that was totally silent. He’d expected to at least hear the hum of computers, the tapping of fingers on a keyboard or a printer in motion. But there was nothing except the eerie silence of a deserted office. The security guard must have been mistaken. Either that or she’d already left.
Roman decided to continue on his way to his office on the tenth floor. The door was slightly ajar and he nudged it open with foot as he began to loosen his tie. He was just about to throw his briefcase onto the sofa when he froze. There Serena lay, fast asleep, her head resting on the arm of the couch, her long, dark hair cascading almost to the floor. Her face, unguarded and innocent, was flushed in sleep and her long lashes formed crescents that fanned out on her smooth skin. On her lap was a folder and he could guess what had happened. She’d probably gone to his office to leave the reports he’d requested and had found the sofa too hard to resist and then sleep had come to claim her.
For a long while Roman stood staring down at the vision of beauty before him. He wanted her so badly he could taste it. Finally, unable to resist, he reached out a hand and touched the soft fineness of her hair. He lifted a tendril from off her face and that was when she woke up.
Serena’s eyelids fluttered then slowly her eyes opened. “Roman? What? Where?” Clearly disoriented, she tried to raise her head then sat back down and groaned. She lifted a hand and rubbed the back of her neck. Then she blinked up at him like a very sleepy kitten.
Roman chuckled then reached out and gently helped her to her feet. She stifled a yawn then stretched, almost involuntarily, and her body swayed. He could see that she was still half asleep. He reached out to steady her and before he could stop her she was relaxing into him, her soft curves molding into him. God, that felt good.
His arms circled her waist as he held her so she would not fall and then she was pressing her body into his. She laid her head on his chest and gave a soft sigh then began to move her lips against the fabric of his shirt as if searching for the hardened nub of his nipple. His groin tightened in response. The little minx was driving him crazy.
He knew he should stop her but when she slid her hands up his body and began to loosen the buttons on his shirt he did not. All week he’d been dying for this, for the heat of her body, the softness of her fingers, the caress of her lips. All week he’d been reliving those precious moments when she’d responded to him with a seductive innocence that he’d found so hard to resist. And now she was in his arms again.