Dawn's Desire (Dark Kings 0.3)

Their gazes locked and held again. How easy it would be to pull her back into his arms, to lean his head down and place his mouth over hers. How simple it would be to give in to the growing need inside him.

“Thank you,” she said nervously, and turned her head away. “I know that hole is there. I’ve had my heels caught in it numerous times.”

He waited as she walked up the steps, unlocked her door, and stepped inside. She turned back to look at him.

Only then did he say, “Good night, Jane Holden.”

“Good night,” she replied.

Banan refused to think of his reaction as he drove back to PureGems to drop off the Mercedes. Whatever he’d felt would surely pass before the next time he saw her.





Chapter 3



The next morning, Jane found herself staring at her computer screen without actually seeing it. Instead, she was back in Banan’s arms the night before. Sure, she’d gotten there by making a fool out of herself by tripping. Again.

But never once had she found herself in the arms of a man like him as a result. So virile, so gorgeous.

So completely out of her reach.

Her hands clenched atop her desk. She could still feel the solid, hard sinew of his muscles beneath her palms, still sense the steel of his body as she was hauled—firmly and protectively—against him.

He’d been quick and agile and superbly strong, but not once had he hurt her. His hands had held her tightly but gently, securely but tenderly.

Which was so at odds with the fire she’d seen smoldering in his gray eyes. They had darkened to the color of smoke, and for the briefest moment, she thought he might kiss her.

“Jane,” someone whispered.

Jane nearly fell out of her chair, she moved so quickly. When she righted herself, she looked up to find Elena leaning her hands on the desk next to hers.

“Are you all right?” Elena asked, her lips quivering as she suppressed a laugh.

Jane nodded, mortified at her continued gracelessness. “Um, hm. Just fine.”

But she wasn’t. Would probably never be again. Not after Banan’s touch, his voice, his eyes.

Every time Jane had closed her eyes during the night, she saw Banan’s face. All she could dream about was his body against hers, holding her. Caressing her.

It had taken hours for her to sleep, and then she slept through her alarm, putting her late getting to work and missing breakfast altogether.

She’d managed to eat half a granola bar during the morning meeting before Mr. Arnold had her getting his coffee. Even when she tried to leave for lunch, he’d had errands for her.

Jane’s head ached from the lack of food, and she was having a difficult time concentrating, though the blame for that could be placed squarely on Banan’s very wide, very muscular shoulders.

“Jane,” Elena said again, a smile in her voice.

She looked up at Elena. “I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep well. Did you need something?”

“Nothing that can’t wait. Why didn’t you come to lunch with the rest of us? We need to stick together, since we’re the only Americans here.”

Jane smiled. Her best friend still lived in Seattle, and even though she and Lisa Skyped often, it wasn’t the same as having her friend in London with her.

Elena’s offer sounded wonderful, and Jane hated that she missed the lunch. Next time, she’d be sure to go.

“Mr. Arnold had some errands for me.”

“Did you eat at all?” Elena asked, a frown marring her forehead.

Jane shrugged. “No, but I have a protein shake in my purse that I’ll get to in a moment.”

After Elena walked off, Jane reluctantly went back to work. Her thoughts, however, didn’t stray far from Banan, no matter how she tried to focus.

When she saw Richard Arnold making his way back into the office after his two-hour lunch, Jane stopped him. “Sir, I wanted to ask what happened with Mr. Eto? I had it marked on my calendar to pick him up last night at the airport, but he wasn’t there.”

One of Richard’s eyebrows lifted as he stared at her. “Are you telling me I gave you wrong information?”

Jane ran her thumb across the chipped nail of her index finger. “No, sir. I’m simply asking if I made the mistake and wrote it on the wrong day?”

“I give you the information. I then pay you to keep up with it,” he said, and looked down his nose at her, not one strand of his light brown hair out of place. “If you keep making these mistakes, you’ll find yourself looking for a new job. Now, get in here. I need you to take notes on a letter you’ll write before you leave for the day.”

Jane wanted to bang her head on the desk. Instead, she grabbed a pen and paper and followed him into the office.

How she despised Richard Arnold. If he wasn’t correcting her American words to British terms, he was telling her how inferior she was.

But she’d never say anything to him. Not only was it just not something she did, but she needed her job as well. Instead, she sat and patiently waited as he rambled for fifteen minutes from one topic to another. She jotted everything down, though most of it wouldn’t go in the letter.

Several times both his office and mobile phones rang, and he’d pause to answer them, getting back to her a few moments later. But when he answered his mobile this last time, he’d turned his chair around so he faced the windows and spoke in a hushed tone.

Jane paid no attention to him until she heard something about Dreagan Industries and Sloan. She kept her eyes on the pad on her lap, but her attention was solely on Richard Arnold.

“It’s not my fault she died in that godforsaken mountain!” Richard whispered loudly.

A short pause later, he turned around, his hand over the phone. “Jane, we’ll continue this tomorrow.”

“Of course,” she said.

He waited until she stood before he turned back around. Jane wanted to linger, to learn what it was that involved Sloan and Dreagan Industries.