Her eyes flashed at the challenge, lips twisting in a scoff. "I have brothers, Mr. Silverton. Believe me; I've seen more than enough naked chests to last a lifetime."
"Just your brothers?" Ryan cocked an eyebrow in mock surprise. "You mean, other than them, I'm the first man you've seen naked? I'm honored."
"Don't flatter yourself. I'm not a prude, Mr. Silverton. "
"I didn't say you were one," he pointed out. “I'd say, from the way you were staring at me a few minutes ago, I'd be hard pressed to define you as prudish."
"I don't know what you're talking about." She uttered the denial with an outraged huff, pert nose in the air, giving her the look of a prim and proper princess.
A princess he'd very much like to...
He killed the thought quickly, reminding himself that this one woman was off limits.
Damn, traitorous body.
"Yes, you do. But feel free to lie to yourself if that makes you feel better." He crossed to a small closet and selected a black suit from the rows hanging there. A stripped, gray tie joined the selection, and he draped the lot over the arm of a chair.
Ryan shook out the pants and pulled them on, swearing under his breath as he tucked himself in, forcing his mind to think of mundane things in an effort to quell the damn arousal. It didn't help much that he could feel her eyes on him the whole time, and he wondered just what could be going through her mind.
"Must be strange to watch a reverse strip show, isn't it?" He teased, wriggling his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.
Caught staring, she flushed, and turned to stare at a painting above the fireplace.
"You clearly have an over inflated ego going for you," she muttered.
"How so?"
“You assume, without proof, that I'm attracted to you. That there, is your ego at work."
From her reaction earlier, he had little doubt of the effect his body had on her. Without being too egotistical, he knew most women found him attractive, but other than his ex, he'd never really responded the way he had with Sam.
“Princess, I know you're attracted," he shot her a grin. "But like I said, feel free to lie to yourself."
“About, the files," Sam's tone told him firmly she intended to drop the topic. An act that was more confirmation of her feelings. "May I please, have access to them?"
For one sweet moment, Ryan contemplated turning her down. If she couldn't access his projects, then she couldn't do her job. He knew his father well enough to know he would not tolerate any excuses from Sam, regardless if the fault wasn't hers.
However, he knew even if she was fired, Bradford would simply send somebody else to finish the job. And Ryan would still be a failure in his eyes.
No, he had to prove to himself, and to his father that he was capable of handling this crisis. So, he would put up with her bossy and irritating attitude until he had sorted out the mess with Caine and land some new, lucrative contracts.
Then, he would get the lovely Ms. Bhatt kicked out on her fine ass. In the meantime, he needed her to stay the hell out of his way and if giving her the files meant distracting her long enough to set his plans in motion, then so be it.
"I'll forward them to you via email," he said, running a hand through his damp hair. He grimaced and made a mental note to get Lola to make an appointment with his stylist.
Sam brightened at his reply. "Thank you, Mr. Silverton."
"Ryan," he corrected, waving away her gratitude. He peered at the mirror attached to the closet door, stiff fingers working to knot his tie, scowling when as usual, the damn thing turned out lopsided.
"Dammit," he loosed the knot, cursing under his breath at the pain and numbness in his wrist that made simple things like tying a knot impossible. He added making an appointment to see his doctor to schedule the surgery to correct the carpal tunnel syndrome to his mental to do list.
Where the hell was his assistant when he actually needed assistance?
"May I?" Sam's voice so close, startled him and he wondered when she'd moved close. He frowned, confused as to her request until she gestured at his futile efforts with the scrap of gray silk.
He stared at her, and handed over the tie, surprise rendering him speechless. She took it and stepped close, the subtle, exotic scent of whatever perfume she had on enveloped him, setting his senses on fire.
"Bend a little, please." Sam's tone held a hint of uncertainty, as though having second thoughts about her decision to help.
Ryan obeyed. She raised her arms, stepped even closer, so the soft fullness of her breasts brushed against his chest for one, tantalizing, fleeting second. He caught the hitch in her breath at the contact, awareness turning her eyes to liquid brown pools.
Invisible currents swirled around them, as she dropped her gaze to focus on her task, giving him a view of thick, gleaming mass of black hair, styled in an intricate twist at the top of her head.
A too real image of them both lying on a couch, she leaning over him, that thick hair falling like a curtain around her, enveloping them both as he cupped her face and pulled her down to him in a searing, hungry kiss, filled his mind.
He cleared his throat softly, swallowing the lump that had built in his throat and wondered when the hell his mind had started conjuring thoughts like that.
Sam's gaze flew up to meet his, her movements stilling as she gazed at him in silent inquiry.
To cover up his the inappropriate thoughts, he cocked his head at her. "Is this another thing you learned from having brothers?
She chuckled, the sound going straight to his errant dick. He subtly angled his lower half so there was little chance of her inadvertently finding out just how aroused he was.
Seriously, what the hell was wrong with him today? Why was he acting like a fucking hormonal teenager around his first crush? Maybe this was his body's way of telling him he'd been celibate for far too long.
Hell, it'd been a year since he'd had sex...even the self pleasuring kind. Since the big, fucking disaster, his libido had taken a vacation, but apparently, the thing was back with a vengeance.
“My oldest brother would rather face a live bear than wear a tie," she replied, resuming her task.
He caught the slight tremble of her hands as they brushed the exposed skin of his neck, but she carried on talking, her voice steadier.
"And Yash, the middle child, uses a clip on when he absolutely has to dress formal."
One final tug and she stepped back to admire her work. "That should do it."
He glanced at the mirror, over her head just long enough to see she'd executed a perfect knot and returned his gaze to her. She was watching him, head cocked to one side, waiting for the verdict.
"Nicely done," he said, enjoying the way her smile lit up her face. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"So, where did you learn to knot a tie?"
Her smile faded, and her expression became closed off. "My fiance taught me how."
She was engaged? The news hit with the force of a tornado, wreaking havoc on his mind. She began to turn away, and acting on instinct, his hand shot out, fingers closing around her wrist to tug her back to face him.
"You're engaged?" He couldn't quite keep the incredulity from seeping into his tone.
The office door opened and his assistant hurried in, attention fixed on her phone.
"Everyone's gathered in the con...oh!" Lola's voice trailed off in surprise as she finally noticed he wasn't alone. She slammed to a halt, eyes widening as she took in the scene before her.