Sam finally gave up the futile effort to concentrate on employee files, and admitted to being a nervous wreck at the prospect of spending time alone with Ryan.

For the umpteemth time since this morning, she replayed the encounter in her mind. He had looked so sinfully sexy, leaning oh so casually against the giant front desk, half turned away from the front door, dressed in a deep blue suit sans tie, hands thrust into the pockets of his pants, wicked smile lighting up a face that should be made illegal for health reasons.

Sam had never given much credence to the phrase 'my ovaries exploded', but at that moment, those three words had never held as much truth as they did. Her stomach felt like a small bomb had gone off, releasing a hoard of butterflies and sweet, delicious thrills that raced down her spine to pool in liquid heat at her core.

The sound of female giggles and effectively doused her back to reality.

One glance at the two pretty receptionists who were leaning over the desk with unmistakable identical expressions of adoration, clearly hanging onto Ryan's every word had stilled the silliness that was Sam's reaction and reminded her of the pep talk she'd given her reflection just this morning.

Focus on what you came to do, Sameera. Do not let a pair of light grey eyes make you forget how hard you had to work to make it this far.

Repeating those words in her head had helped to quell lustful thoughts...and much as she hated to admit, jealousy.

It helped to keep her grounded when he'd looked her way and aimed that devastating smile in her direction. Had helped to keep her traitorous hands from touching him when they'd been together in the elevator, and for one millisecond Ryan had looked at her with what she thought was a desire to kiss her senseless.

Obviously, she'd been mistaken, for the next minute he'd acted like he couldn't wait to get away from her.

Thank heavens she hadn't done something foolish, like throw herself at him.

She sighed and dragged her mind to the present, pushing aside her laptop and propped her elbows on the desk to massage her temples, where the mild headache that had plagued her since waking up after a restless night now bloomed to a category three on the pain scale, category one being a full blown, unable to tolerate sound or light migraine that rendered her useless for it's duration.

This whole situation was proving bad for her health. Maybe it was time to take Dee up on her offer to hook her up with one of her male friends? Or - heaven forbid - take a second look at the list currently burning a hole in her inbox.

Maybe if she started casually dating again after so long being on her own, her pointless infatuation with a man who was unsuitable in every way would cool off.

She grimaced at the thought of plunging into the whirlpool that was dating. That aspect of social life had never really appealed to Sam and she had always counted herself lucky that her relationship with Zahir had been borne of friendship.

Zahir was the boy next door, and her friend. Her parents were good friends with his, and from friendship, love had grown. He'd declared his feelings for her when she'd turned sixteen - he'd been nineteen and just about to leave for university.

He had been her first date, her first everything and after his death, there had been no one else.

Her planner gave a little beep, a five minute reminder of her meeting with Ryan. Ignoring the flutter in her chest, she rose, smoothing a hand down the front of her shirt. Eyeing the suit jacket that hung beside her chair, she decided to forgo putting it on in favor of looking a little less severe.

She reached for her bag with the intent of retrieving her makeup purse and paused, fingers hovering over the black leather. A brief debate ensued in her head, one part arguing in favor of vanity, the need to at least apply a fresh coat of pink lipgloss, and maybe a light pat from her compact. Another part, more sensible and less prone to silly emotional drama argued against it.

This was a business meeting for god's sake and not some clandestine love assignation. The point was to focus more on doing a stellar job and less on trying to appear nice for a man who clearly did not desire her.

She settled for compromise and merely touched up her face with a fresh dab of powder. Her super oily skin would light up with a greasy glow that could be seen from outer space otherwise.

Jane knocked and stuck her head through the door. "I'm out for lunch, do you want me to order you something from the deli across the street?"

Sam considered the offer for a moment. The only thing she'd had this morning was a banana, but right now her stomach felt too unsettled for food. Perhaps, after this damn meeting was out of the way, she could call up Dee and see if she was close by so they could have a late lunch.

"Don't bother," She told Jane, "I'll go out and get something later."

"Sure. I'll be back in an hour, but if anything urgent comes up, I'll be happy to come in early."

"I'm sure nothing will come up, enjoy your meal." She waved her assistant off, slipped her bare feet back in her shoes, grabbed her iPad and took a deep breath before marching out her office with the air of a soldier going to do battle.

Jane's desk was already deserted, and to her relief, Lola was nowhere in sight as well. The woman had been barely civil to her all morning, even when Sam had gone out of the way to bid her a good morning, all she'd got for her effort was a cold shoulder.

Like boss, like employee.

She grinned at the thought. Although, to be fair, even though Ryan could be cold, at least he could charm the socks off whomever he wanted. Lola, on the other hand, seemed to have a perpetual scowl in place and gave everyone around her the same brash attitude she showed Sam.

Everyone that is, but Ryan.

If that wasn't an obvious indication of Lola's feelings towards her boss, then Sam didn't know what else to call it.

Sam was just reaching for the handle of Ryan's door when it swung inwards of its own volition and Ryan barged out, his head still turned towards whomever was in the room with him.

Caught unawares, Sam was unable to step aside in time and he crashed into her, a pained Hindi curse torn from her throat as he stepped on the toes of her left foot. Instinctively, her arms leaned down to grasp the crushed foot and she tethered on one heel, her balance off.

Ryan recovered quickly, one hand snaking about her waist to catch Sam before she collapsed in an undignified heap on the floor.

"Fuck! Sam, are you okay?" Ryan's voice penetrated the haze of pain that clouded Sam's mind and she flushed when she realized she'd been spewing a veritable litany of swear words in Hindi.

Thank god for the language barrier.

"I think you killed my foot." She muttered, the pain thankfully subsiding to a throb.

Unfortunately, that made her all too aware of his arm around her, and the liquid heat that seared down her spine in response and how good it felt to be held like this.

"I'm so sorry, love," his tone was filled with genuine remorse, not that her ears heard anything else after the word 'love'. "I should have been watching where I was going."

I'm such a pathetic loser. She grumbled to herself, willing her pulse to settle back to normal and for the butterflies in her stomach to die a quick, painful death.

"Here, let me look at it." Before she could utter a protest, he crouched, his hand slid from her waist and grasped her hurt leg in a gentle grip. He lifted her foot, slid off her shoe, and Sam almost died from the contact.

Mercifully, he mistook her sharp indrawn breath for pain and let go quickly, muttering another apology.

His gaze rose to meet hers, genuine concern swimming in the grey depths. Depths she could happily spend hours drowning in. "Let's get you off your feet, come with me."

He made to slide his arm around her waist again, but Sam was having none of it. She backed away, careful not to put weight on her left foot. Another damned flush crept up her face as she realized they had gathered a small audience - a few of the staff and the two strange men in business suits behind Ryan all watched the unraveling drama with avid interest.

"I can walk, thanks." She sidestepped Ryan and his guests to slip into his office, wanting to end the drama as quickly as possible. She limped to one of the couches and sank down, rubbing at her toes with a grimace.

Talk about the embarrassment of the century! Ryan Silverton should come with a warning attached. Something like 'heavy machinery, stay clear!'

She heard Ryan say something to his companions, but paid no attention, her mind on other matters.

Sam could just imagine Dee's reaction when she told her the story. Her friend would probably end up rolling on the floor, tears of mirth rolling down her cheeks.

The imagery restored some of her humor, and a soft smile crossed her lips.

"You're smiling at least, that means I didn't manage to maim you."

Sam looked up as Ryan crossed to sit beside her. He wore a smile as he dropped her discarded tablet and shoe on the coffee table in front of them.

"How much do you weigh?" She grumbled good naturedly, good humor restored. "It felt like a ton of bricks had fallen on me."

He laughed, the sound warm and rich to Sam's ears. "Two hundred and two pounds, last time I checked."

She did a quick conversion to kilograms in her head. "Wow, you're not too heavy then."

"Oh I'm not," he leaned close to whisper, a wicked light glinting in his eyes. "Unlike today, I usually make sure I'm not distracted enough to put all my weight on a woman beneath me."

Oh sweet mother of double entendres.

Sam was sure her face had gone a bright red as his meaning sank in, stirring wicked thoughts in her mind.

Images of Ryan supporting his weight on both arms, muscles rippling as his hips ground against hers. Her own arms wrapped around his, urging him on and he'd look at her with eyes filled with passion...much like the way he was looking at her right now, though the knowing grin on his face quite spoilt the effect.

Smug bastard.

She assumed an indifferent expression, distracting her thoughts by leaning down to inspect her poor, mangled toes. "You're a lightweight, compared to some men I know."

Let him make of that what he wanted.

"Is that supposed to be a threat, Princess?" His voice had turned silky and her nostrils filled with his cologne, earthy and warm as he leaned dangerously close. "Or is it a challenge?"

She looked up at him, her heart doing its mad dance again. The raw need in his hot gaze seared right to her core, turning it to mush while the rest of her dried up. The tip of her tongue darted out to moisten dry lips and his gaze followed the movement hungrily.

"Sam..." the words were a plea and a warning. She heeded the former and ignored the latter, leaning close, every nerve begging for his kiss.

The air around them fizzed and cackled with tension as inch by glorious inch, Ryan's lips descended towards hers. Her eyes fluttered shut, waiting for the one thing she yearned for.

Instead of his lips, cool air caressed her mouth and face, and her eyes flew open to find Ryan leaning away from her, a guarded expression on his face.

"Have you eaten?" He asked, rising to stride away from the couch, each step a cold strike against her heart.