Chapter 1 Rowan
ROWAN
A high-pitched screech rang out across the shopping center as I dug my heels into the slippery tiles.
Several passersby shot irritated glances my way, as if I’d made a dire transgression.
Ignoring them, I turned my attention to my best friend, Claire, who wore a determined expression mingled with too much mischief for my liking.
“I’ve told you. I’m not going in there. I mean it.”
Claire wrapped her fingers around my wrist, and tugged, almost dislocating my shoulder. Okay, a bit of an exaggeration, but I enjoyed a little embellishment from time to time.
I drove my heels in further and yanked my shoulder up and back, dislodging her grip.
Claire pouted and folded her arms across her ample chest. I’d give anything for a rack like Claire’s. Sadly, when the day for handing out tits arrived, my creator didn’t get the memo.
“Oh, don’t be a daft mare, Row. It’ll be fun.”
“No, it won’t,” I insisted. “I’ve hardly seen you these past few weeks, and this isn’t how I planned to spend a rare early finish at work.”
“You should ask that boss of yours for a raise. I know you fancy him, but that doesn’t mean you should let him take advantage of you.”
“He doesn’t take advantage,” I muttered.
“Besides, I’m still on probation for another month, which means I have to work my backside off to prove my worth.
You know this job was a step up for me, and I’m determined to make it work.
My personal feelings for Grayson have nothing to do with how much effort I put into my career. ”
“I just hope he knows how lucky he is to have you. Now come on. Like you said, you don’t get a lot of free time, so let’s not waste it.”
“What if someone I know sees me?”
“So?” Claire shrugged. “It’s not illegal to browse a sex shop.”
“Maybe it should be.” I glanced over my shoulder.
It’d be just my luck for someone from work to amble by the second I walked through the doors.
If that bastard, Dave, from IT spotted me, he’d snap a picture and load the evidence onto the home page of the intranet in seconds, completing my mortification.
“Look.” Claire planted both hands on her hips. “If your vajayjay doesn’t get some action—battery operated or otherwise—in the not too distant future, you’re going to need surgery to open you back up again.”
“Claire, for fuck’s sake,” I hissed. “Keep your bloody voice down.”
“No one cares.”
“I care.”
“And that’s your problem. If you cared less and fucked more, you might finally jettison that pole shoved up your backside.”
“Thanks a bunch, mate.” I loaded a hefty dose of sarcasm into my tone.
“Babes, you know I love you to death. Tough love. That’s what this is. Candles, a bubble bath, and a few orgasms, and you’ll feel a lot better. Trust me.”
“Fine,” I mumbled with another surreptitious sweep of the mall. “Let’s get it over with.”
Claire grinned triumphantly. She linked her arm through mine—probably to make sure I didn’t run—and hauled me through the door.
A couple of mannequins dressed in skimpy black-and-red lingerie stood like sentries on either side of the entranceway.
Claire stopped to check out the barely there underwear.
I hustled farther inside and away from the floor-to-ceiling glass windows where anyone could peer in.
Why Claire and I were friends was beyond me. Opposites really did attract, I guess.
“Can I help you?”
Heat rushed to my face. The assistant, a homely-looking woman in her mid-forties with salt and pepper hair pinned into a neat bun, tilted her head to the side, waiting for my response. She appeared almost as out of place as me. Still, a job was a job. Everyone had bills to pay.
“First time, dear?”
Kill me. Kill me right this second.
I nodded. Christ, she must think I was mute. Or an idiot. Maybe both.
“Are you after anything in particular?”
Yeah. An escape route.
“Um… I… I’m—”
“That’s okay.” Claire nudged me in the shoulder, smiling at the woman. “I can take it from here. I’m a pro.”
She led me deeper inside the store. Worked for me. Anything that hid me from view got a vote in my book.
“This is a terrible idea,” I mumbled as Claire stopped in front of the rows and rows of vibrators and dildos.
“Nonsense,” Claire replied. “Which one do you like?”
“Erm, that would be none of them.”
“Oh, Row, stop. You’re here now. And just think. The sooner you pick one, the faster you get out of here.”
I like that. “Fine.” I snatched up the first one I saw. “How about this?”
Claire gave it a thorough once-over, then picked up a sealed box and read its ‘features.’
“Yeah, that’s not a bad pick for your first one. It’s got several speeds, and a clit stimulator. I’d advise starting on the slowest speed.” Claire snorted with laughter. “Or your head will blow off.”
“Jesus Christ.” I grabbed it from her, then marched over to the checkout and shoved it across the counter. “Can you put this in a bag, please?”
The same woman who’d greeted me earlier winked. “Of course. Excellent choice. You’ll have a lot of fun with this.”
I prayed for a sinkhole to open right in the middle of the shop and swallow me.
I handed over my credit card, winced at the price—damn, they were some expensive orgasms—grabbed the bag, then dashed out of the shop.
I made a run for it, only breathing properly when I’d put a good hundred feet between me and the store.
Claire caught up to me, panting.
“Hold up, Usain Bolt. You entering for the next Olympics or something?”
“That was the most embarrassing experience of my entire life.”
“Oh, please,” Claire scoffed. “Everyone goes to sex shops. Everyone masturbates. It’s no big deal. Just chill, Row.”
She wrestled the bag from my hands and dove inside. The next thing I knew, she had the vibrator out of its packaging.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Checking it’s got the plug thingy to recharge it. It was missing from the last one I bought. Pissed me off no end, I can tell you.”
“For God’s sake, Claire.” I yanked the bag back.
The next ten seconds unfolded into a nightmare of epic proportions.
The bag split. The vibrator hit the floor and rolled away, coming to rest in front of a pair of highly polished black dress shoes.
I dragged my gaze up. Smart trousers, single-breasted dark gray suit jacket with one button fastened, a crisp white shirt adorned with silver monochrome cufflinks, and a navy-and-white-striped tie.
My eyes traveled farther, meeting a sharp, angular jaw enhanced by a dusting of stubble, an aristocratic nose, wide, intelligent brow, glacial-blue eyes, and a head of dark hair styled to perfection. He raised a single eyebrow in query.
“Oops.” Claire giggled, bending to pick up the offending item. “Sorry about that, handsome. You got a runaway vibe, Row.”
More giggles erupted while I stood there with horror splattered all over my face.
No. Please God, no. Don’t do this to me.
“Good evening, Rowan.”
Claire’s head swiveled to him, then me, then back to him.
“Oh, crap. Do you two know each other?”
If I lived to be a hundred, I’d never know how I found my voice, but somehow, I uttered the awful truth.
“This is my boss.”