Maybe the jet lag had gotten to him, but she seemed like the type of woman he wouldn’t mind coming home to. Soft eyes not jaded by Hollywood. An innocence the women he went out with only pretended to have. Totally wrong for him, and he was totally wrong for her.

Even if the spark of awareness hadn’t been so intense, he still would have found himself captivated by the upturned corner of her pink lips. He’d been down that path before. A path he had no intention of going down again.

A sharp rap on the door brought him out of his brooding thoughts.

“Come in.”

Robert came through the door first with his trademark easy smile and loose gait. Chase stood and gripped the hand he offered.

“Good to have you back.” Robert’s hand tightened on his.

“It’s good to be back. I missed the sun.”

Robert stepped back and Chase noticed Martin lingering in the doorway.

“Martin. How’s our company doing?” Chase gestured for the man to come in.

“How was your flight, sir?” Martin came forward and sat in the chair, shuffling his papers. He never met Chase’s eyes. Robert had assured Chase it was just him. When Chase was gone, the CFO didn’t act like a mouse in front of a cat. Star envy or some such bull.

“A hassle, but it’s over.” Chase sank into his chair as Robert sat next to Martin.

“How was filming?” Robert sprawled back in the chair. “Another Oscar award-winning performance?”

“I don’t think Assassin’s Target is Oscar-caliber, but it was great to get back out there. I forgot how much I missed it. The money was nice, unlike Night Blooming.” Their production couldn’t seem to find its way out of the red into the black.

Martin cleared his throat and shuffled through his papers again.

“Do you have the numbers, Martin?” Chase glanced at the stack on the man’s lap.

Martin riffled through and pulled out two sheets. His hand shook as he handed one to Robert and passed one across the desk. “These are the preliminary numbers. There are still a few receipts outstanding and a couple of expense reports we are waiting on.”

Chase glanced down. The numbers above the line didn’t tell him much, but the number in parenthesis at the bottom indicated they’d run over by a hundred thousand dollars instead of making money. He slammed the paper down on his desk, causing Martin to jump.

“How can this be?” He met both men’s eyes before looking at the paper again. The numbers hadn’t changed. “Night Blooming was number one at the box office for several weeks, plus the early release to DVD. The Golden Globe nominations and the Oscar talk. We should be in the black, not the red.”

Martin shifted in his chair. “There were costs we hadn’t anticipated.”

“How could that be?” Chase leaned back in his chair. Every extra dollar counted. The loss would mean one less project they could back this year. “This isn’t our first film. Robert, you came up with the budget. You’re not green.”

“I don’t know, Chase,” Robert said. “My budgets are pretty tight. The only thing I can think of is to have accounting look into it.”

Chase turned back to Martin.

Martin cleared his throat. “Um. I hired a new assistant who will be auditing this budget first thing. I need to start working on the financial reporting for the month.”

The little accountant. His pulse jumped. “This is our priority, Martin. We need to get to the bottom of this.”

“Natalie!”

Natalie cringed as Martin barreled toward her desk. The CFO liked to yell at her when telling her to do something. He wasn’t demeaning or anything, just loud. If anyone was nearby, they always turned to look.

“Yes, Mr. Morrison?” She placed the papers in her work tray and waited for the next project about to be yelled at her.

“Come into my office.” He pounded past her desk and into his office.

She grabbed her notebook and pen and followed him.

“Close the door.”

She shut the door and sat down across from him, her pen ready. The reams of papers and folders built up on Martin’s desk looked as if at any moment they could topple over. He slammed the files down on top of one of his stacks. She jumped. A few papers lifted slightly but didn’t dare move from their assigned spots.

He turned as if just noticing her. His brown eyes narrowed and then cleared. “Do you remember when I interviewed you how I told you we need to audit the expenses on productions?”

“Yes, sir.” Experience she needed if she wanted to move up in the accounting field. She hadn’t wanted to go into audit or tax after college like many of her classmates. She wanted to be like the man in front of her. Well, maybe not exactly like him, but the opportunity to be more than just a staff accountant had been irresistible.

Reaching behind him, he picked up a large folder and handed it across the desk to her. He leaned down, picked up a binder and another folder twice as thick and passed them, as well. The pile on her lap now reached her chin.

“Print out the expenses on Night Blooming. These should be all the files, but you may have to pull some more out of the drawers. Go through each expense and make sure you have a corresponding paid invoice and that invoice is for Night Blooming. It should have a charge number and be signed by myself or Robert Addler. Any questions?”

“No, Mr. Morrison.”

“You’ve been authorized to work overtime to get this done. I expect you to work at least fifty hours this week and next.”

“Of course.” It was already Tuesday. She’d only worked seven hours yesterday because Mr. Morrison had sent her home early. She’d have to work over ten hours a day for the remainder of the week to catch up. Not that she had much to go home to. Her roommate, Rachel, who had a life, was always traveling or staying out late.

“Put aside everything else. Mr. Booker wants the numbers as soon as possible.”

The sound of his name sent a little shiver through her, but she shook it off.

Martin waved his hand in dismissal, and Natalie hefted the files into her arms. Balancing them precariously, she opened the door and managed to make it to her desk without losing anything. The stack looked imposing as she sat behind it.

Pulling out her keyboard, she typed in the parameters to run the report. She glanced up as Chase’s door opened and he stepped out. Her stomach tightened. So much for an easy week.

Natalie had to go home. The pile of expenses looked as large as when she started, but her stomach growled and her vision was getting blurry. Her computer clock read 8:00. She started to restack her work so she would know where she was in the morning.

Everyone else had already left, including Mr. Morrison. A door opened and footsteps sounded on the tile floor. Her pulse leapt. Who else was here this late?

Startled, she stood to glance down the hallway and saw the broad shoulders of Chase. Her pulse jumped again as she sat back down. She hurried to get her purse from the bottom drawer. Maybe she could beat him out and not have to talk to him. She was so tired she was bound to make a fool of herself.

Sliding the drawer shut, she tried to move away, but her pant leg had caught in it. She cursed silently and bent down to fix it.

“I thought I was the last one here.” Chase’s voice rippled over her spine like a light caress.

Darn it. “I was just leaving.” Her pant leg freed, she looked at Chase and her breath caught. Even fatigued, he was magnificent.

His smile lit his face. “I’ll walk you out, then.”

Wait…what? “Okay.” She could do this. She’d walked to her car with coworkers before. Of course, none of them made her feel weak in the knees and tingly in places she’d rather not mention.

Her hand shaking, she reached to turn off her desk lamp, but it tilted to the side. His hand reached out and steadied it before it fell.