“Well …” I give a shy smile. “Thank you again for catching me.”

He stares at me, looking me up and down. Something about his gaze makes me feel naked, exposed. Here I am, standing before him, fully dressed but completely bare.

“So since I saved you from a rather embarrassing moment, how about you tell me your name?” the drop-dead gorgeous man asks in that low rasp of his.

And though every part of me feels inexplicably drawn to him, something in the back of my mind, the part that knows how off-kilter he’s knocked me, is telling me not to give it to him. I have no reason in the world to want this man, but I do and I can’t explain it, which means it’s time to walk away.

Trying to find an excuse, I look over at Gretchen and Ashton. “Sorry. I have friends waiting.” I shrug.

“Well tell them to come join us.”

I smile, looking at the two guys who keep volleying their eyes between him and me. “I’ll let you boys get back to your dinner.”

I start to walk away, but he grips my arm. His touch sends shockwaves through my system, momentarily stunning me again. “Wait. Sit. Have a drink with us. This is Nathan, that’s Garrett, and I’m Jackson.”

Even his name is sexy. I’m in so much trouble. I need to get away from him and quick, before I say or do something stupid. Oh wait. I already did. As much as I would love nothing more than to sit, I’m not ready. I know exactly where this will end up—I’ll be hurt and he’ll be leaving.

“It was nice meeting you, Jackson, but I have a table waiting.”

“Don’t you think you owe me your name at least?” Jackson asks, his eyes bright with mischief.

I look down, spotting the ring on my finger. It gives me the perfect excuse to run and avoid this bizarre encounter. “I’m getting married, but thanks again for catching me.” I show Jackson my ring finger and shrug. “Sorry, I have to go,” I say and turn to leave. Who knew Neil would be good for something?

“Lucky guy,” I hear him say as I’m walking away.

I walk back to the table, forgoing the bathroom. There’s no way I’m walking past him again. Thankfully, Ashton and Gretchen are oblivious to what happened or they’d both be grilling me. My heart is racing and my body is tingling everywhere he touched. I slouch in the seat, feeling as though I’ve run a marathon. It’s been so long since a man sparked any emotion or arousal within me. I feel unmistakably alive, which scares the hell out of me.

“You okay?” Ashton asks.

“Yeah, do you think we could head out? I’m not feeling so good.”

I want to get away from this place and get myself under control. Unease is running through my veins. Foolishly, I look over and catch him smiling in my direction.

Deciding I’m not waiting for Ashton, I grab my bag and run out the door, away from a man who reminds me how easy it would be to fall all over again—only this time I don’t think I’d survive.

Back to work today and my mask is back in place, so everyone will believe I’m the put-together Catherine Pope. My commute on the train from New Jersey into Manhattan gives me time to prepare. I’ve been restless since the night we went to dinner and I literally fell on that guy. Jackson. I swear I can feel his hands, hear his voice, smell his cologne everywhere I turn. Until that night, it’d been months since a man had touched me. I’ve not allowed myself to get caught up in any kind of relationship. Men have asked me out, but I knew I wasn’t ready for that yet. Plus, there was nothing pulling me toward them. However, the other night I wasn’t just pulled, I felt bound. He awakened me—my body, my emotions, my mind—and I still haven’t recovered.

Shaking my head, I chastise myself. Today I have to be on my A-game. I have an important meeting across town and if it goes well, I’ll be solidifying a promotion in my company. I don’t have time to fantasize about a man I’ll probably never see again.

Once I get into the city, I walk the four blocks to my office at CJJ Public Relations. In this building, I’m more than enough. My skills, my smarts, my vision, me—I’m worth something and it’s well known. Instantly I’m stronger. For the last six years I’ve worked my ass off to become a top publicist. I’ve climbed the corporate ladder fast and proven myself account after account.

I enter my office, smiling and saying hello to my assistant, Taylor. If it weren’t for her, I’m pretty certain I would’ve lost my job by now. The first week back after things ended with Neil, I was a mess. One time I wore my shirt inside out. Taylor came over and pointed me toward the bathroom with one word: shirt. She’s kind, caring, and always ensures my schedule is perfect. More than that, she’s a friend. I love her. One day she’ll realize she can do my job and I’ll be lost. But for now, I have her and I’m thankful.

I have all my notes and I’ve gone over every possible scenario in my mind. Usually before we go into a meeting we know the client. We study them and learn as much as we can to gain the upper hand. In this case, we couldn’t get as much information as I would’ve liked, but I’m confident, even with what little knowledge I’ve obtained, I’ll come out victorious. Boyce PR is my only competition for the account, and they usually don’t invest their time in research like I do. They typically send the same two reps to bid meetings, and they’ve only won an account over me a few times.

“All right. The meeting’s in an hour and it’ll probably be about a fifteen-minute cab ride to get over there.” Taylor smiles and throws some lip gloss on my desk.

“Thanks, Tay. I need to print out some files I emailed myself last night.”

“I found out that you’re going to be dealing with two people: the assistant and another member of their team.”

I seriously couldn’t do this without her. “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.”

The people at Raven Cosmetics are anxious to get a publicist on board quickly. The more I learn about them, the more my confidence grows. I know I’d represent them well. I know this demographic. Plus, with my vast amount of contacts in this particular industry, I’d be able to get them in the spotlight easily.

Taylor turns to me, giving me the remainder of the files and presentation boards she had mocked up. Her sweet, timid voice is now firm, making sure I’m ready. “Were you able to find out any more information on the CEO?”

“No. And I despise the secrets behind this account. I asked around again. All I found out was that Mr. Cole recently took over. Whoever was running things early on left, and the interim CEO didn’t want to stay on.” I let out a frustrated sigh.

Taylor and I scoured the Internet and questioned all our contacts to learn anything we could about Raven Cosmetics. The company is only about four years old, but they’ve changed CEOs three times already. Even so, they’ve grown extremely fast in the industry. They have a line of natural eye products that exploded and skyrocketed them to the top.

The rumors floating around are that when the first CEO and co-owner left abruptly, someone stepped in as acting CEO. I don’t know what happened with the acting CEO, but the silent partner, Mr. Cole, stepped in, apparently worried about the image of his company. As he should be. A young company needs to portray strength and consistency to its consumers and investors. That’s why they decided to seek out a publicist to help clean up their chaotic, and relatively unstable, image.

“It doesn’t matter, though. We’re the right firm. Despite the lack of information, we’ll still have the best strategies,” I say. I straighten my back, gathering my confidence as I go over my notes, making sure I’m fully prepared.

“Agreed. Time to get going. Your cab’s waiting. By the way, I wasn’t able to find out who’s representing Boyce PR. My friend said the original rep got sick and they’re sending someone else in their place.”