Marriage Made on Paper. Maisey Yates

gut. She looked down again, not saying anything, but leaning in a little bit closer, her breasts brushing his chest.

      Her eyes fluttered closed, her lips parted slightly and she swayed a bit in his arms. Then she went stiff, pulled back quickly, her brown eyes huge with shock.

      “Did you make all the bids you were planning on making?” she asked, her breasts rising and falling with her labored breathing.

      “Yes,” he said, trying to ignore the ache of unsatisfied desire that was gnawing at him.

      “Then we should go. We’ll probably have another early morning.”

      She turned and walked back into the building. He shook his head. She was right to have stopped things, as much as his body rebelled against the admission. He valued her too much as an employee to sacrifice it for sex. Even if it would be incredibly hot sex.

      He liked to keep his life compartmentalized. There was work, there was his family life, and then there was his sex life, and he didn’t combine them. Ever.

      Though with the memory of her in his arms, how soft and sweet she’d felt there, how close he had come to tasting her lips, it was hard to remember why that was.

      Lily couldn’t sleep, and it was all Gage’s fault. And hers. He’d nearly kissed her. She’d nearly kissed him. Curiosity. That was all it had been. The need to know what it would be like. She’d wondered about it. She wouldn’t be human if she hadn’t.

      Gage was so much more than any other man she’d ever met. More successful, more driven. And those were things that appealed to her. But she had never felt so compelled to abandon all of her tightly held business principles for a few moments of … of … lust.

      She hadn’t wanted to pull away, hadn’t felt like he was trying to manipulate her in any way. She’d felt … passion. For the first time in her life she’d experienced real, physical passion. She’d always felt passion for her work, a drive and a need to succeed, but that was where it had been contained.

      Her body still felt hot and restless, unfulfilled.

      “I don’t want Gage,” she told her empty bedroom. “I don’t.”

      He was her boss. If she wanted a relationship, which she definitely didn’t, it wouldn’t be with him. Her job was too important to risk it by blurring personal and professional lines. It had never been an issue for her before.

      Her clients had been almost exclusively men, and even when they’d shown interest, like Jeff Campbell, she hadn’t been remotely tempted to accept. There was a clear line drawn in her mind. Work was work.

      She clenched and unclenched her fists, trying to make the shaky feeling go away. The worst thing wasn’t that Gage was her boss, it was how out of control he’d made her feel. She’d kissed men before—several of them—and the experience had ranged from completely undesirable to okay. None had lit her on fire from the inside out. But the near kiss with Gage made her feel like she was burning.

      The worst thing was that she knew that if his lips had touched hers, that last shred of sanity would have turned to a vapor and any inclination she had to resist him would be gone with it. And when had she ever struggled with her willpower? She created her own destiny. She was in charge of her own life.

      She let out a low growl of frustration and tossed off her covers before stalking over to her computer. If she wasn’t going to get sleep, she would get work done.

      She opened up her email account and clicked open the message that she knew contained her search engine alerts on Forrestation Inc. and Gage Forrester. It was important for her to keep tabs on what was being said about him so she could release a statement if necessary.

      She scanned the message and her stomach dropped. She bit out a curse and picked up her phone, speed dialing Gage’s number, not caring that it was three in the morning.

      “Gage, we have a very serious problem.”