Good witch, bad witch, you must decide…
“Amelie, I was just calling you. Harold wants to see you in his office.”
Amelie came to an abrupt stop in front of the closed door and swiveled toward Suzie, who sat back in her chair and blinked.
“Good, I want to see him, too.” Amelie pushed the door open, and walked right up to Harold’s desk.
“I am sorry Harold, but I can’t do the Sweet Life…”
“Amelie Laurent, may I introduce you to Roman Cardiff.” Harold gestured toward the Burberry divan in the corner.
His expression would have seemed harsh except for the warmth of the sky blue gaze traveling slowly up her body. The eyes gave his features a seraphim quality. They leisurely toured the peachy-pink lacquered toenails peeking through the front of her navy pumps, and then moved up the curve of her hips. She felt those eyes like a puff of warm breath when they grazed the swell of her breasts above the white silk blouse.
She was an innocent doe being circled by a panther that was higher up on the food chain and more resourceful.
Amelie looked down at the large hand holding hers. Warm, like a glove.
He is real. But he could not be her dream lover.
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I should have known I would end up here...
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