Temporary Wife Temptation. Jayci Lee
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way through the short stack of papers. His shirtsleeves were rolled past his elbows, exposing solid forearms that looked smooth and tanned, as if he spent his days in the sun rather than in an office building. She bit her lip, unable to stop imagining the rest of him. He had a light smattering of hair on his muscular chest that tapered off above his smooth, sculpted abs only to resurface below his navel as it darkened toward his...
Stop! Natalie couldn’t lust after Garrett Song. She would be a hypocrite to even think about an office romance. She was the HR director, for heaven’s sake.
“That wasn’t too hard.” He gave her a rueful smile. “I apologize for the delay.”
“Apology accepted.”
Natalie jumped to her feet, eager to escape him, but he proceeded to tap the papers on his desk, straightening them with exaggerated care. Then he placed the neat stack in the folder in slow motion before holding it out to her. The man was immensely irritating.
Not trusting what she might say, Natalie snatched the folder from him and speed walked out of his office. Her unannounced arrival and abrupt departure might’ve convinced him she was strange and rude, but better that than throwing herself across his desk and begging him to ravish her. I bet he’s an excellent ravisher.
Besides, he could have his pick of beautiful women out there. He’d never be interested in someone ordinary like her. Even if he got bonked in the head and became interested in her, she had Sophie to think of.
Sophie.
Her hormone-frenzied thoughts ground to a halt. The air rushed out of her lungs as grief rushed in, raw and real. It hit her out of nowhere, as it often did since that fateful car crash over a month ago.
Traci was gone.
Natalie rushed the last few feet to her office and shut the door as a ragged sob escaped her lips. Traci’s husband, Parker, the older brother Natalie had always wished for, had died on impact. Her older sister had hung on until she reached her side in the hospital.
“Promise me,” Traci had said as she gripped her hand.
“Anything.” The last member of Natalie’s family had been slipping away. “Just don’t leave me.”
“Raise Sophie as your daughter.” Her eyes bore into Natalie’s, frantic and terrified. “Promise. Me.”
“I promise,” she had pledged.
Her sister’s dying wish meant little to the law. Lily and Steve Davis, Sophie’s paternal grandparents and next of kin, would become her legal guardians by default. The chances of the court granting Natalie’s adoption application were abysmal, especially with the Davises opposing the adoption. They were good people, but Sophie was their last link to Parker, and they intended to take her to New York with them even if it meant a drawn-out custody battle.
Meanwhile, a social worker had told Natalie that two-parent families in a high-income bracket had better chances of adopting. Too bad she couldn’t pull a wealthy husband out of a hat like a fluffy, white bunny.
Natalie would do anything to give her niece a happy, carefree childhood. She and Traci knew what it meant to grow up without a mom.
With a forlorn sigh, she reached for her mouse and clicked through the forty-seven emails she’d received while she was in Garrett Song’s office. One in particular caught her attention.
“What?” She rubbed her eyes and read the email again. She had to be hallucinating from her desperation. “No. Freaking. Way.”
The current VP of Human Resources was retiring at the end of the year, and the company wanted to promote internally. The position had a six-figure salary with generous benefits—Sophie, I could send you to a Montessori preschool!—and the opening was in New York. Surely, the Davises would be open to negotiating custody if they could remain a large part of their granddaughter’s life.
It was about time Fate threw her a bone.
If she could get the promotion, then all she needed was a husband to seal the deal. Without warning, an image of Garrett Song filled her head. His strength. His raw masculinity. Her breath caught at the visceral intrusion and heat gathered at her center before she shook it off.
What did Garrett have to do with anything?
For the first time in his nearly two months at the LA office, Garrett left work early. His grandmother had summoned him, saying she wanted to see his face before she forgot what he looked like. It was his grandmother’s passive-aggressive way of telling him she wasn’t happy with his biweekly visits.
She lived with his father and his younger sister at their family home in Pacific Palisades. The fact that he didn’t move back in when he returned to Los Angeles was still a touchy subject with her. Customarily, Korean folks lived with their parents and grandparents until they got married. Garrett planned on dying a bachelor, and getting his own place now was a good way to start acclimating his elders to the idea.
He navigated the surface roads to avoid rush-hour traffic but eventually got on the freeway and joined the other cars crawling five miles per hour. Stuck in the mind-numbing commute, Garrett’s thoughts wandered to Natalie Sobol as it had done numerous times in the last several weeks.
Hell.
He dragged in a deep breath, his shirt stretching across his chest.
When she first walked in, he’d thought—with a flash of annoyance—that she was one of their Korean-American models, tall and beautiful. He was too busy to listen to her lie about getting lost on her way to the design department, a classic but unimaginative ploy used by women to get intimate with his wallet. But as she drew closer, he’d noticed her startling whiskey eyes, creamy skin and hourglass curves, and forgot his irritation and suspicions. She was stunning, and desire pumped through him.
Then she’d introduced herself.
For the briefest moment, he’d lusted after Hansol’s HR director. Someone he enjoyed working with and valued as an employee. He and the VP of HR had even discussed Natalie Sobol as her potential successor.
Restless, he changed lanes and advanced a half-car’s length. She wasn’t even his type. He preferred the sophisticated women from his own circle who understood no-strings-attached affairs. Everyone knew the rules and no one got hurt.
He cringed and shoved his fingers through his hair. From her button-up shirt to her knee-length skirt, she’d been the picture of professionalism. Oddly, rather than turning him off, something about her meticulous demeanor had made him want to...dishevel her. Undo her buttons and hike up her skirt—
He slapped his cheeks like a drowsy driver fighting the sweet temptation of sleep. Having the sudden hots for an employee was inconvenient and messy. Their HR director, at that. As a rule, Garrett never dated anyone in the company.
And the timing was diabolical. A scandal so close to his CEO appointment could have consequences more dire than mere personal humiliation. It could destabilize the entire corporation, and sabotage his plan for a partnership with Vivotex, the largest fashion group in the world. His family had worked too hard and sacrificed too much for him to risk the company’s reputation and the livelihood of thousands of employees over his libido.
And his grandmother. The eighty-year-old was still as sharp as a surgical knife but she was growing frailer than she let on. If she lost face because of him, she would give herself a heart attack by sheer force of will. A small one, just enough to cram a healthy dose of guilt down his throat.
Damn it.
His self-control had shifted as he held Natalie’s eyes. He’d wanted to kiss the woman with a white-hot lust he couldn’t comprehend. As far as he was concerned, Natalie Sobol was the devil incarnate sent to toy with him, and he planned to avoid her at all costs.
He