“Jane Osborne.” He grinned, pleased with himself.

“How come you can remember her last name, but not anybody’s first?” She grinned back despite herself. Maybe it wouldn’t end. Maybe once he’d found his wife, they could transition to something platonic.

Though that felt weird to think about. And awkward. How could she be friends with a woman after she’d both banged her husband and arranged their marriage? Yes, there was definitely an expiration date, and not one she wanted to think too hard about.

“I don’t know. I’ve always been able to remember surnames. It works in business, because you can use a man’s last name, and the occasional woman’s, and it’s a mark of respect and affection, depending on the circumstance. I rarely find myself needing first names.”

See, we could be great friends. Maybe his wife never had to know.

“What about your secretary?” She’d heard him use her name before, hadn’t she? Come to think of it, Andy couldn’t remember the woman’s name herself.

Blake leaned in confidentially. “I only hire secretaries named Sarah. Don’t you dare tell a soul. It’s a common enough name that I can always find one qualified.”

“You are awful,” she breathed, impressed despite her words to the contrary.

“Awful, am I?” Blake sat back, a smug expression overtaking his features. “I didn’t hear you complaining earlier.”

“Because you were shouting my name.”

He laughed, his eyes twinkling in that way that always made Andy have to cross her legs. “Was that what I was saying? Honestly, I think I lost consciousness for a minute there at the end.”

“It was what you were saying. Over and over.” Thinking about it now sent a shiver down her spine. “I think there were some Oh, Gods and Don’t stops thrown in, but mostly it was my name.” She was thrilled with herself for discussing their intimacy without blushing and ducking.

Well, it had been Drea he’d been shouting, but that counted, didn’t it? Actually, now that she thought about it, and now that she understood how infrequently Blake addressed people correctly, the nickname he’d given her didn’t seem quite so demeaning. It was even sort of … sweet.

Hmm. Blake—sweet. That was certainly never an adjective she’d thought she’d add to his character profile. Funny how initial perceptions could be so wrong once you got to know a person. Apparently even for someone who was supposed to be especially good at initial perceptions.

The waiter returned then bearing steaming bowls of miso and interrupting Andy’s moment of reflection. He set one in front of each of them. “Careful, please,” he warned in his choppy English. “Soup very hot.”

He bowed again before leaving.

“Blake, wait a min—” Andy began when he reached for his bowl.

But she was too late. “I burned my tongue,” he complained after his first slurp.

“If you had waited for a minute, it wouldn’t have happened,” she scolded him before blowing across her own bowl.

“I didn’t want to wait.” His tone had deepened, and she looked up. “I understand the principle behind delayed gratification and all, but sometimes, you have to take what you want when you want it.” His eyes were dark, and she didn’t think he was talking about the soup anymore.

Experimentally, she kicked off a shoe beneath the table and slowly ran her foot along his.

He didn’t respond.

She moved higher, over his calf and onto his thigh. Besides a narrowing of his eyes, nothing. Her toes reached the spot between his legs and verified his arousal as he gasped.

It was Blake who quickly summoned the waiter back. “We’ll take that sushi to go, please.”

Chapter Fourteen

Blake couldn’t stop his foot from tapping as he rode the elevator carrying the to-go order of sushi. It had been Andrea’s idea to come and go separately when they dined together as to not give the wrong impression to his other employees about their relationship. Or, rather, the right impression. Besides the fact that it wasn’t anyone’s business, managers weren’t allowed to date their subordinates. Though dating wasn’t what he and Andrea were doing. Did the fraternization policy contain any wording regarding banging? He’d have to check.

Regardless, Blake approved of the separate entrances, but why was he the one who always had to go up last? And how did he end up carrying the food every time? He supposed it was appropriately chivalrous to attend to the baggage. The delayed arrival, however, proved to be … uncomfortable … on more than one occasion. Like when Andrea had gotten him thoroughly aroused before leaving for her trip upstairs. Like now.

Maybe it was a good thing he was carrying the food after all.

When the elevator finally stopped on his floor, Blake had to work not to run to his office. That didn’t mean he didn’t have a bit of gusto to his step. Especially as he got closer and saw that his door was closed. Andrea always worked with it open. What was she doing in there? Naughty things? Was she waiting for him, perhaps, undressed, spread out on top of the lateral file cabinets?

Whoops. He shouldn’t have imagined that. Now his stride slowed due to, well, necessity.

Blake was so focused on his destination that he didn’t notice the man sitting in his waiting room until he’d reached his office door.

“Excuse me?” The man leaped up from his chair. “Mr. Donovan, I need to speak with you, please.”

Blake furrowed his brow as he tested the door handle. It was locked. His pulse picked up. Andrea indeed had to be planning something.

“Mr. Donovan?”

Blake threw a glance over his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m unavailable at the moment. Schedule something with my secretary.” He shuffled the lunch orders in an attempt to dig in his pocket for his keys.

“Your secretary appears to be out for lunch,” the man said.

Of course she was. Dammit. No, it was a good thing Sarah was at lunch since Andrea tended to get a little loud. He loved that.

“Mr. Donovan?”

Oh, yes. There was someone speaking to him. He gave another look at the bothersome fellow. It was an employee of his, he realized now. A manager in his project development department. Something or other Jennings. Bruce? No, that was the famous amputee cyclist. Or was that Bruce Jenner? He always mixed the two up. It wasn’t Bruce anyway. Something like that, though.

Whatever his first name was, Jennings had been in his office only a few weeks before to try to convince Blake to give a promotion to one of his team members. It had already been in the works, but still had yet to go through. That was surely why he was here now.

“Jennings, the paperwork has been submitted for Fullman. She’ll get her promotion soon enough.” Blake turned back to inserting his key into the door handle.

“That’s just it, Mr. Donovan.” Was Jennings always this pesky? “I’d like to revoke my recommendation. May I come in and talk to you about this?”

Hell, no. Except he didn’t have any excuse. He’d have to improvise. “Later. Right now my sushi’s getting cold.” He cringed. Sushi didn’t get cold. God, what an awful ad lib. “I mean…” But he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Too much blood flowing to the wrong part of his body.

“It’s really important,” Jennings pleaded. “Just a few minutes of your time is all I need.”

Blake cursed under his breath. “Very well.” He turned and set the takeout on his secretary’s desk. “Talk.”

Jennings looked at him skeptically. “Out here? I really think this would be best discussed in your office. In private.”

In private. That’s exactly where Blake wanted to be at the moment. Only he wanted to be in private with Andrea Dawson, not no-name Jennings.

Brad!

That was his name. From the expression on his face, Brad Jennings wasn’t leaving until they got this over with. With a sigh, Blake opened his office door slightly and said in an overly loud voice so that Andrea would hear him, “Of course we can meet in my office. We’ll go right in.” He paused to give her an extra moment to scramble into her clothes if need be. Blake tried not to groan at the missed opportunity.