Selling Seduction (Your Ad Here #1) by Allyson Lindt

the exposed wood beams, wishing she didn’t have to go home in the morning, and wondering if each footstep above them was Ian.
    She’d been so head-over-heels back then. Another reason she was grateful he told her no when she asked to leave with him. She’d gotten him out of her system. Learned how much happier she was, standing on her own. When this week was over—hell, when the day was over—she’d go back to her life, and he’d go back to his, and that would be that. The pit in her chest told her that wasn’t true; she’d still miss him. She argued it was easy to say that when they hadn’t finished what they started this morning.
    The clock on the wall said he’d been gone almost forty-five minutes. Long call. She shrugged off the blanket and went in search of her clothes. She found his sweatshirt first. The faint but heady scents of pine and musk settled over her, and she pulled it on. It barely covered her ass. Perfect.
    She padded through the house, ears straining until she heard his voice drifting from the study. She approached the doorway and paused when his distinct words greeted her. “I understand your concerns, Mr. Woodhouse.” His tone was cool. Professional and confident. “When you’re in the offices tomorrow, you’ll see we’ve addressed them.” His back was to her.
    Her stomach twisted in on itself. She didn’t know how many Woodhouses there were out there, but it wasn’t a name she’d come across very often. It was, however, the name of the marketing director for KaleidoMation—the account she hoped would take her company to the next level. Maybe it was coincidence. Please let that be the case.
    “I assure you, we’ve got social media covered.” Ian turned, smiling when he saw her. “We’ve got experts on staff, and we’re talking to an independent contractor as well.”
    She didn’t want to hear this. She’d walk away, wait in the living room until Ian was done, and then tell him they were each other’s competition. He gestured for her to come closer, and she shook her head.
    “The snow is perfect for it.” Ian crossed the room in a few brief strides and grabbed Mercy’s wrist before she could leave. “Fresh powder falling right now. If you’re staying for the weekend, we’ll hit the slopes together.”
    His grip was loose. She could wrench away. It might look a little melodramatic, but he’d understand once she explained her reasons.
    “I’ll have Jake keep an eye on the storm warnings, but I expect travel restrictions to be lifted by this afternoon. I’m sorry you were delayed a day, but we’re ready for you whenever you arrive.” Ian pulled her closer, wrapped an arm around her waist, and dragged his nose up the side of her neck.
    God. That felt so good. She leaned into him and the gesture. He was almost done, anyway. It wouldn’t hurt to hang out.
    “Of course. We’ll see you tomorrow. Have a safe flight.”
    Behind her, something made a splunk sound, like a phone hitting a leather seat. “You wear this better than I do.” Ian brushed her hair aside and kissed along her shoulder. “Though the office is closed for the day, and everyone’s working remotely, so you won’t be wearing it for long.”
    She was about to spoil his mood. Probably forever. Not that it mattered; their fling already had an expiration date. It had moved up a few days, was all. She braced herself for what she had to say next, burned the sensation of his lips on her skin into her thoughts, and said, “We have to talk.”

Chapter Twelve
    We have to talk. Ian usually didn’t mind that phrase. He’d delivered it himself, and he hadn’t been attached enough to anyone who said it to him. This time, it clenched like a fist around his lungs. He hated to admit it, but this whole thing—a fling; a series of one-night stands; whatever they decided to call it—was starting to mean more to him. Maybe it was a good thing she was doing this now, so they could put distance between them before