Unforgettable: Book Three (A Hollywood Love Story #3)(58)

Oh, God! Why was the word “yes” on the tip of my tongue? I slowly sat up.

“I don’t think so,” I murmured.

His lips curled into a devilish smile. Holy shit. It was the cutest, sexiest smile I’d ever seen on a man, his adorable dimples bracketing his lush lips like two little hearts.

My chill gave way to a feverish sensation. I felt my body heat and my face flush. Why was he affecting me this way? “I’ve got to go. I have a dinner date with my fiancé.”

At the word “fiancé,” his dense, dark brows furrowed. Subtly but enough for me to notice. I pulled my hand away from his and rose to my feet. A wave of dizziness swept over me. I didn’t know if it was from the intense pain emanating from my finger or the feverish effect this man was having on me, or a combination of both. My body swayed, and blackness clouded my vision. Shit. I was about to pass out again. As the world spun around me, he caught me in his arms and lowered me back onto his couch. He brushed away a wisp of my hair that had fallen onto my forehead. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach.

“Ms. McCoy, you’re in no condition to go anywhere. Stay put. I’ll be right back with some ice for your finger.”

“Okay,” I squeaked. Boss’s orders.

My eyes stayed fixed on him as he jogged out of his office in his charcoal gray suit. The color of the suit perfectly complemented his almost ebony hair, and its tapered shape was tailor-made for him. I soaked in his broad shoulders, tight ass, and long muscular legs Wow! What a body, I thought as I glanced down at my throbbing finger. I grimaced. The torn cuticle had begun to bleed.

He was back in no time, with what looked to be a cotton napkin filled up with ice.

“How’s my patient doing?” he asked, lowering himself next to me onto the couch. His hard thighs brushed against mine. The closeness of him disseminated warmth through my system, and his manly scent—a blend of sweetness and spice—assaulted my senses. I felt delirious.

“Fine,” I muttered as he took hold of my hand again and gently pressed the ice pack on my finger. I noticed he’d wrapped up the ice cubes in his personal, monogrammed hankie. BB. Blake Burns. Just saying his name silently to myself sent a barrage of sparks to my core.

“The ice should help take away the pain and reduce the swelling.”

My finger already felt better. In fact, all of me felt better. Except my brain with the initials BB branded on it was still mush.

I turned to face him and managed one word. “Thanks.”

His gaze met mine, those beautiful orbs of blue burning a hole right through me. That dazzling smile spread across his face. “You should be more careful, Ms. McCoy. I value my employees.”

I shrugged sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I’m very accident-prone. My roommate even calls me ‘Calamity Jen.’”

He broke into a sexy rasp of laughter. “That wasn’t on your resumé.”

His laughter was catching. “I was born an accident.”

“What do you mean?” A bemused expression washed over his handsome face.

“My parents were told they could never have children. So, they didn’t bother using protection. Lo and behold, at the age of forty, my mom got pregnant. And voilà, here I am.”

He smiled. “Some accidents are meant to happen.”

His words sent a jolt of heat through me. “Well, I’d better go. I don’t want to be late for my fiancé.”

The word “fiancé” made him frown again. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

I nodded. Removing the ice pack from my finger, I handed it back to him. “Thanks. My finger feels a lot better.” I glanced down at it. It glowed red from the ice, but was definitely less puffy. Plus, the bleeding had subsided, and it was no longer trembling.


He examined it with me. “It still looks pretty bad. You should keep it covered.”

I watched as he emptied the ice cubes inside his hankie into a ceramic bowl on his coffee table. Folding the damp hankie into a triangle, he gingerly wrapped it around my injured finger and formed a makeshift bandage.

I laughed at the silly bandage. “My fiancé’s going to get mad at me. He thinks I’m careless and don’t think before I act.”

“Tell him a big bad wolf tried to bite off your finger.”

I laughed again. “That’s a good one. I’ll bring back your hankie tomorrow.”

“Don’t bother. Keep it for future accidents.”

“Very funny.” Gathering my purse and briefcase, I stood up and headed toward the door to his office. As I was about to leave, Blake called out to me. I pivoted around to face him. He was slouched seductively on the couch, his long legs splayed.

“Hey, Calamity, stay out of trouble.” His mouth twisted into that sexy fiendish grin, and he winked at me.

The wink made me tingle all over. “Right.” I flung the word at him and scurried off before my knees buckled beneath me once again.





Chapter 5

Blake


Immediately after work, I met my best bud, Jaime Zander, at my sports club, Equinox, for a game of racquetball. Jay-Z, as I affectionately called him, was a creative genius. He ran a very successful advertising agency—ZAP!—and had created the award-winning advertising campaign that’d launched SIN-TV. “Television so hot, your screen will sizzle.” In the process, we’d become friends, having discovered that we shared many of the same interests, including kinky sex. He had a few years on me, but that didn’t impact our friendship. The big difference was that he was now married and the new father to a set of twins. And I was still single. A player like he’d once been before meeting his gorgeous wife Gloria, the founder and CEO of Gloria’s Secret, the world’s largest retailer of lingerie.