Wish You *Weren't* Here (A Romantic Comedy)

Chapter Thirty

So . . . *takes deep breath* . . . I was not expecting the corporate version of Lewis to be such a fucking turn on.

When I return to the suite laden with shopping bags, he's still on a work call, and I swear to God it's like the adult version of watching him in that debate competition all those years ago. I can immediately tell he is very much in charge of the conversation, voice ringing with quiet authority and confidence, and it's overwhelmingly attractive.

I guess I now understand why he's seemingly indispensable!

It seems I've also just discovered a whole new kink because Corporate Lewis apparently wears glasses - and I didn't actually realise that was something I was into . . . until now. But this somehow just adds to the sexiness that's playing out in front of me at this moment. If we had no history and I worked in the same company as him, I'd be plotting ways to seduce him in the stationery cupboard before the end of my first day. That's how potent his appeal is.

He raises his eyebrows questioningly at me over the top of his laptop, and I realise I've just been leaning against the door and staring at him for way too long, while simultaneously wishing I was the ballpoint pen he's currently twirling between his fingers. How very mortifying. Dropping the shopping, I make a beeline for the bedroom to calm myself down.

And then, seized with a sudden naughty impulse to mess with him a little, I also step out of my knickers, my heart racing excitedly.

I bide my time, waiting until I hear his side of the chat becoming less formal, clearly winding down, then I casually wander back out to 'put the shopping away', knowing the fridge and cupboard in the kitchen will definitely be in his line of sight. I pretend not to take notice, but I hear him stumble ever so slightly over his words as I deliberately stretch to put something on the highest shelf of the cupboard, knowing the hem of my dress will be steadily rising as I do so.

I shoot an innocent glance over my shoulder and see his gaze slip away from me as he quietly sighs and drags a hand across his stubble. I smirk and promptly bend to put something in the lowest part of the fridge; one extreme to another.

(I later realise I've put tzatziki in the cupboard and loo roll in the fridge, but my devious plan was in no way driven by practicality. I just wanted to get Lewis hot and bothered, after all!)

"I hope you're proud of yourself, Ruby," he says after the call wraps up. He slips off his headset and drops his pen on the table before removing his tie. "That might be the first time I've ever had a semi during a work call."

"Good to know. It would probably be a bit weird if that happened a lot," I laugh.

"Minx," he murmurs, grinning. "I just need to send one follow-up email, and then I'm all yours." He starts typing but must sense that I'm still watching him. "What?" he asks, not looking away from his laptop.

"What's with the glasses?"

A blush spreads rapidly across his cheeks. "I get a headache if I read or use the computer for too long without them," he replies slightly bashfully, still staring intently at his computer screen. Cute.

"Ah. I thought maybe they were props: part of your Corporate Lewis disguise."

"I wish," he mutters.

"I like them," I tell him. That gets his attention.

"As much as the stubble and the frequent toplessness? Should I add them to the list?" He picks up his pen again and pulls a sheet of paper towards him. Moving closer, I can see it has 'Ways to Entice Ruby Rafferty ' written at the top.

"You actually wrote the list down?" I shake my head in disbelief. He shrugs, the tiniest of smiles playing around his mouth.

"I thought it would be funny." Under the first two entries, he writes 'Glasses, apparently?'.