Ben had been shocked – more like dumbfounded – when he’d seen Lauren’s name yesterday on the list of staff members who would be reporting to him. He’d had zero idea when he had interviewed for the job that Lauren had worked at National Geographic Travel for more than four years, that she was regarded as the most talented and innovative young photographer on staff. Seeing her name in black and white had nearly sent him into panic mode, and he’d barely been able to sleep last night as he had struggled with how to deal with such an unimaginable situation.

But at least he’d had a good twenty-four hours to prepare himself for seeing her again. Lauren wasn’t a woman who startled easily, but it had been very obvious from the way her unforgettable green eyes had widened upon first seeing him just how shocked she’d been. He had kept his fingers crossed that she wouldn’t make a scene in front of the others, wouldn’t fly across the room and punch him in the gut or jab her fingers into his solar plexus as payback for walking out on her back in Big Sur. Instead, she’d played it cool, evidently just as reluctant as he was to betray their past relationship to the men she worked with so closely.

It had been very apparent that she felt entirely at ease with both Karl and Chris, laughing and conversing with them easily. He’d felt an instant surge of unreasonable, outrageous jealousy to observe the casual, natural way she flirted lightly with both men, how she touched them every so often – a squeeze of their arm, a pat on the cheek, a playful ruffle of their hair.

And it was equally obvious that her relationship with George – poor, hapless George – was not nearly as friendly or affectionate. Her disdain for the admittedly annoying young producer was very noticeable, nearly as much as George’s own palpable fear of Lauren. If he hadn’t been obliged to maintain some level of professional decorum, Ben might have allowed himself to laugh hysterically at the way George quivered with dread each time Lauren glanced his way.

Ben was belatedly aware that Karl was gazing at him expectantly, waiting for his answer. “I think – that she’s a force to be reckoned with,” he blurted out. “And that everything you told me about her more than lives up to expectations.”

Karl regarded him quizzically. “You know, I got the weirdest vibe when the two of you met for the first time. Almost like – well, like you’ve met before or something.”

Ben tried his damndest to appear unfazed. “I, ah, well – if we’re being perfectly honest here – I, uh, didn’t expect her to be quite so hot.”

Karl grinned. “Yeah, she gets that reaction a lot. I mean, a lot. Guys have hit on her on all seven continents, including the Navy Seals we met in Antarctica. But Lauren never screws around – literally or figuratively – on the job. At least, not since Mozambique her first year on the job. And before you ask,” he added as Ben arched a brow, “you’ll have to hear that story directly from her. Though I must say it’s one of her better tales.”

“Why do I have the feeling,” asked Ben with a shake of his head, “that I’ll be sprouting gray hairs within the next few months? Especially if everything you’ve told me about her is true.”

“Oh, it’s all true,” assured Karl cheerfully. “But what you also need to know is that in spite of her tough chick exterior, Lauren has a heart of gold. She’s always looking out for us, admittedly bosses us around a lot, but always with good intentions. She’s like our little mother at times, even though Chris and I are both older. And while she gives George a lot of shit – come on, you’ve gotta admit the dude just asks for it at times – she looks out for him, too. So don’t let the ballsy babe image fool you, Ben. Deep down, Lauren’s a sweetheart, and one in a million. The guy who finally snags her will be one lucky bastard. I’ll send her in now, okay?”

Karl left before Ben could blurt out that once upon a time he’d been the lucky bastard who had snagged Lauren. Except that he’d also been the stupid bastard who’d walked away from the best thing that had ever happened to him.

He didn’t know what to expect when she walked inside his office, closing the door behind her. Ben had mentally prepared himself to deal with potential anger, scorn, or disdain – or a combination of all three. What he hadn’t expected was for her to stand with her back to the door, arms crossed defiantly over her stomach, and to regard him with an amused smirk.

“I’ve got to hand it to you, Ben,” she chuckled. “I didn’t think you could hold out that long without giving it away. Because there was no way I was going to be the first one to cave and admit to the guys that we had a history. So you can relax now. The door’s shut, everyone else is busy, and you don’t have to keep pretending that we’ve never met until today.”

He gave a brief nod of acknowledgment. “I figured it might make things difficult for you with the rest of the crew if they knew. That they might give you a bad time about it.”

Lauren’s smirk grew more pronounced. “Those guys know better than to give me a bad time about anything. But I appreciate your – discretion, Ben. Though I can tell you right now what I don’t appreciate in the least.”

She shook her head in disgust as she walked right up to him, flicking the collar of his shirt disdainfully.

“This isn’t a good look for you,” she announced in her usual forthright manner. “And it sure as hell isn’t you. What are you doing here, Ben, and exactly what are you trying to prove? You’re no more cut out for this job than I am.”

He sucked in a breath at being this close to her for the first time in forever, trying desperately to ignore how silky soft her caramel curls looked, or how she still managed to smell like the beach and the summer sun when she was thousands of miles from California. And he couldn’t help himself from dropping his gaze to stare hungrily at the way her lush breasts lovingly filled out the dark blue ribbed top she wore.

At the group meeting earlier, she’d still been wearing a chunky, thigh-length light gray sweater over woolly dark gray leggings and knee high boots. With the voluminous sweater now removed, the tempting curves of her petite body were on full, mouthwatering display.

The gorgeous girl had matured into a breathtaking woman, her beauty more refined and yet still wild and untamed. She wore no jewelry, her nails were kept short and unpolished, and the only visible makeup she had on was some tinted lip gloss that made her plush, pillowy mouth look utterly kissable. Lauren had always been a confident, capable woman, but now she wore that confidence like a badge of honor, and he’d never felt more intimidated by a woman – hell, by anyone – in his life. Or, judging by the way his pants had suddenly grown tighter, more aroused.

“Still staring at my tits, I see,” she drawled lazily. “Guess that part of you hasn’t changed, unlike everything else apparently.”

“I’m still the same person I always was,” he replied quietly. “I may dress a little differently, have a different type of job, but not much else has changed. And speaking of clothing, I can see you still like to wear as little of it as possible.”

Lauren shrugged as she plopped herself down in one of the brown leather club chairs that faced his desk, crossing her legs. “It’s like a frigging steam bath in this place. Helpful hint – boss.” The last word had been uttered with sarcastic disdain. “Tell the higher ups they can save themselves big bucks by lowering the thermostat ten degrees. And then maybe I can stop wearing four layers during the winter.”

Ben regarded her somberly. “I told you once that you’d never call me your boss. Or that anyone would ever truly be in charge of you. I never thought we’d be in a position where I actually was your boss.”

Her face closed up instantly, the expression in her green eyes almost murderous. “Well, boss, the first thing we need to get straight is that any mention of what happened four years ago is strictly off the table. Got it?”