11. Carter

Chapter 1 1

Carter

T he cool April air caused goosebumps to form on my arms during my run this morning. Normally this time of year is beautiful for an early run, but this past week has brought in an unexpected cold snap. I ran faster than usual, attempting to outrun the cold, resulting in my far-earlier-than-necessary arrival at the firm.

It's a little while later when I start hearing the voices of my staff throughout the hallways, signalling the official start of the work day. Laptop in one hand and coffee in the other, I make my way to the boardroom and take my usual seat for the monthly Executive Meeting.

I’m vaguely aware of my colleagues filing in around me, but my gaze is fixed on the floor to ceiling window across from me, and the view beyond. If I look hard enough, I swear I can almost see the bookstore, despite the low clouds and it being tens of blocks away. An image of the striking woman with eyes reminiscent of the depths of the ocean fades into view clear as day. It’s as though I’ve been transported directly to the counter, watching her share a carefree laugh with a customer.

“You good, boss?” Anna’s voice removes me from the bookstore. Concern mars her features as I meet her gaze. Glancing around the room, I’m caught off guard realising I’m centre of attention between eight pairs of eyes.

“Sorry, what was that?” I rough a palm along my jaw, completely taken aback that I was that lost in thought.

Anna lets out a small chuckle and a few of the others join in. “You’re fine, boss. I was just askin’ if you had any updates for HR.” It’s hard to suppress my grin at the way HR sounds in her Southern lilt pronunciation.

“Right, of course.” Tapping a key on my now-sleeping laptop, I force my straying thoughts to remain on the meeting at hand. Not the time or place, Lawrence. “Let’s start with staffing updates, shall we?”

As I rise from my chair and exit the boardroom, I glance down at my watch. Stifling a yawn, I’m disappointed but not surprised to see it’s far earlier than I’d thought. It feels as though I’ve already worked a twelve-hour day when it’s not even midday.

I make my way to my office, smiling and greeting any staff I’ve yet to say good morning to. The past few months haven’t been the easiest by any means, but I’ve really hit my stride recently.?

The firm is busier than ever, which is excellent and exactly where we want the business. But it also means I've been working more than ever.

Sitting down at my desk, I flip through my diary to see what the rest of my day holds. Confusion seeps in as I look at the blank page. Well, this is odd. A moment passes before I realise— it’s blank because I forgot to write in it. It’s only Tuesday, far too early in the week to be this dysfunctional.

When Anna, our HR department head, brought up the possibility of hiring me an executive assistant, I thought it was ludicrous. I’d told her that while I may be busy, isn’t that expected as CEO? She’d laughed and agreed but also reminded me that my father, and my grandfather before him, always had EAs.?

At this moment, staring at my wrongfully blank diary, I realise she may have had a point. Logging into my computer, I let out a sigh of relief when I see the small reprieve I have between meetings. I lean back in my chair, turn towards the window, and take in the bustling activity of Oxford Street down below. My mind wanders, betraying me with thoughts of that particularly feminine Australian accent, accentuated with the slightest of posh lilts.

Why am I thinking about Lara right now? Lord fucking knows, but I can’t seem to shake her. Attempting a distraction, I send a quick text to Dex, asking him to meet me for lunch. His “aye aye captain” comes through almost instantly and has me rolling my eyes.

The sound of muffled footsteps approaching steals my attention away from the view. I turn to find Anna standing in my doorway; laptop beneath her arm and a coffee in either hand.

“You got a minute, boss?” Anna greets me with a smile, her faint southern accent as joyous as ever. The sweet scent of strawberries and cream wafts into my office.

“That would depend on the nature of your visit, Anna,” I tease, motioning her to come in. Her light giggle fills the air as she takes a seat across from me, handing me one of the takeaway cups.

“How’d you know I needed this?” I thank her, taking a sip of the steaming brew. One dark eyebrow raises as she regards me. Half of me is resisting the urge to squirm under her intense gaze, while the other half is suppressing a smirk.

“Out with it,” I say finally, unable to withstand the silence any longer.

“We’ve known each other a while now, wouldn’t you say?” Her brow raises imperceptibly with the question.

“Several years at least. What’s that got to do with anything?”

“And you trust my judgement?”

This isn’t a typical interaction with Anna, and it’s throwing me off. She’s typically quite fiery and will say what’s on her mind without a second thought. “Anna, I’ve never known you to beat around the bush like this. What’s going on?”

“I really think you should reconsider your stance on an assistant.” I’ve barely opened my mouth to respond when she continues, holding up a hand. “Before you argue, I want you to listen. I watched you this morning, during that meeting. I say this with the utmost respect, boss, but you were so out of it, and that’s not normal for you at all.”

A few stray cinnamon strands have come loose from Anna’s bun, and she tucks them neatly behind her ears. Through the tortoise frame of her glasses, bright green eyes bore into mine, expectant.

“Here I was thinking perhaps you’d just come to visit a friend without ulterior motives.” Anna’s eyes widen slightly, before she pulls her lips down in a dramatic frown. A deep laugh ripples through me. “As much as I hate to admit it, you’re right.

A small gasp falls from her lips, and then her entire face lights up like she’s just won the lottery. She claps her hands onto her thighs. The sound echoes around the office and her diamond engagement ring glints from her excitement.

“Finally, he listens!” Anna flips open her laptop, hitting keys and clicking buttons like her life depends on it. “I’ve only been trying to subtly persuade you for months. What made you change your mind this particular time?”

“First of all, you were as subtle as a cannon.” A wide grin breaks out across Anna’s face. “Secondly, I forgot to fill out my diary for today.”

Anna’s jaw drops slightly, and her eyes widen. Having known me for as long as she has, she’s well aware of how Type A I am when it comes to my diary.

“Oh, Carter,” is all she can say. “Don’t worry, we’ll find you the perfect EA. I’ll put some feelers out and see if there’s any potential from word of mouth before going through an agency.”

Leaning back in the chair, I cross my arms over my chest. “You’re simply the best; thank you, Anna.”

Rising from her chair, Anna continues firing off emails as she walks out. A quick glance at my watch says I’m a few minutes late in meeting Dex downstairs.

I find him waiting by the front doors in the foyer, deeply engrossed in his phone. “What could possibly have caught your attention like that, Dexter?”?

It seems he didn’t have the slightest inclination I was approaching, if the way he jumps out of his skin is any indication. The item holding his attention so intensely goes flying upwards. Reaching out a hand, I manage to catch it before it falls to an almost certain death, as Dex recentres himself.

“What the fuck Carter,” Dex says a little too loudly, causing some of the passing office staff to glance in our direction. “You don’t sneak up on a man like that when he’s watching porn.”

My eyes almost pop out of my head. “You weren’t, please tell me you weren’t,” I mutter.

Dex merely winks at me, turning on his heel in pursuit of a lunch spot. It seems I won’t be getting an answer anytime soon. For a smart guy, my best friend does some dumb things. Which is precisely why it wouldn’t be a huge surprise if he were telling the truth.

We wander down Oxford Street toward a local cafe, catching up on the week so far. Whilst the promotion has been a bit of a steep incline for Dex, it sounds like he’s finding his feet. From what I’ve heard around the firm, the junior associates are stoked to have him leading them. I’ve known for a while that Dex would be a great leader; not only is he one hell of a lawyer, but he’s incredibly personable, which is exactly what our up-and-comers need.

By the time we collect our lunch and find a table, I’ve finished telling Dex about ending things with Molly. With how busy things have been, we’re hardly had the chance to catch up on a personal level.

“There’s one thing I don’t understand though, mate,” Dex says around a rather large mouthful of baguette. “If you weren’t even keen on Molly, why have you seemed so off with the fairies lately?”

Scoffing, I look up from my lunch and see Dex’s eyebrows pulling together. I keep my face neutral as I respond, unsure where this is going. “Care to elaborate on when I’ve been off with the fairies?”

Now it’s Dex’s turn to scoff. “Oh, come off it.” There’s the smallest note of exasperation in his voice. “You’ve hardly been present in meetings. I can’t count the number of times I’ve heard someone have to repeat themselves because you zoned out.”

Dragging my fork through the Greek salad in front of me, it dawns on me that the son of a bitch might have a point—especially given the way I completely zoned out this morning whilst picturing her. Then there’s the whole diary mishap, although I could blame that on workload to disprove Dex’s point.

Taking another mouthful without responding, my mind subconsciously drifts to the striking woman with eyes that could take a man’s breath away. This isn’t the first time she’s crossed my mind since our initial meeting. Hell, it isn’t even the tenth time. What is it about her that’s left such an impression on me? So much so that I’m noticeably spacing out in meetings and work conversations?

Maybe it would be good to talk this out with Dex? It might get her off my mind.

I place my fork down and lean back in my chair. Purposefully not locking eyes with Dex, I finally speak.

“Don’t overreact when I say this, but there’s someone I can’t get out of my head.”

A dramatic noise comes from across the table, causing me to look up and see Dex’s reaction. He’s got one hand clasped over his mouth, failing to stifle the gasp that was probably heard down the street. The other hand has slapped down on the table, rattling everything it holds.?

“Thank you for toning down the dramatics,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm.?

“You didn’t really expect me to react calmly to this news, did you?” Dex asks, still shocked. “Carter, you’re my brother and I love you, but sometimes I’m deeply concerned about the lack of interest you have in women.”

Must admit, I’m a little offended.

“Dexter, you wound me.”?

“Can’t even say I’m sorry, I wouldn't mean it.” Dex smirks at me. “Is this someone a man or woman?”?

Rolling my eyes, I let out a small sigh, which bleeds into a laugh. “How many times must we have this conversation? No matter how hard you attempt to sway me, I am a straight man, Dex.”

He has the audacity to look hurt by my words, even though we’ve been having this conversation since our first year of law school. Huffing, Dex goes on.

“The bi’s and gay’s of London continue to have their hearts torn into pieces at the hands of one Mr Carter Lawrence.”

I can’t help but laugh. Dex has been trying to recruit me for almost as long as I’ve known him, even though we’re both aware it doesn’t work like that.

Whenever Dex mentions he’s hooked up with someone, I have to confirm if it’s a man or a woman to know how to proceed with the conversation. More often than not, the answer has been a woman. The best stories, though? They seem to be more prevalent when the answer is a man.?

“Any who,” I say, determined to continue this conversation with as little dramatics as possible. “She’s an incredibly stubborn woman who works in the bookstore.”

Dex’s brows furrow as he studies me.

“Wow, she’s really gotten under your skin, hasn’t she?” he asks, not expecting an answer.

“I don’t understand why she’s affecting me the way she is.” My words are coming out in haste. A sudden feeling of restlessness has me crossing and uncrossing my arms. “She has horrible taste in books, truly Dex. She’s one of those uncultured heathens who believe written porn is a genre. She possesses an unmatched level of sass and sarcasm, her arse is incredible, and she’s Australian.”

Dex lifts both hands with his palms toward me, preventing me from continuing.

“I’m sorry, but did you compliment her arse?”

I pause. “What? Why on earth would I do that?”

“I dunno, mate, but I’m quite sure you said, and I quote, ‘her arse is incredible.’”

“Shit.” Muttering under my breath, I glance away from Dex for a moment, then back at him. He’s wearing the same smug expression, and I want to reach over and slap it off his face. “It would appear I did, in fact, say that.”

Pure triumph radiates across his face, and now I want to slap him even more.

“Dex, mate, I think I had a minor stroke.”

I’m surprised his mouth doesn’t split up the sides when the grin on his face somehow widens even further.?

“You’ve got it bad.”

“No, I don’t,” I snap back defensively. Too quickly. Dex knows it too.

It’s a fact. Lara has a really nice arse. One that makes you want to grab a fistful while she’s sitting on your face.

Jesus, Carter, what the fuck man?

I’ve no idea where that thought came from, and I’m a little concerned.

I don’t even like her.

“I don’t even like her,” I repeat out loud this time.?

The arsehole across the table from me has the nerve to continue to grin at me, crossing his arms over his chest and mimicking my body language.

“You sure?” He raises a brow curiously.

The truth is, I’m not the slightest bit sure. The fact that my immediate reaction is to go on the defensive suggests that perhaps I like her a little more than I’m willing to let on. But I’m not about to let Dex have the satisfaction of being right.

“I’ve never encountered someone like her; we couldn’t be more different. Yes, she’s beautiful, that much is obvious, but we’re complete opposites if you ask me.”

“Might be an unpopular opinion, but I think you may like her.”

My jaw drops ever so slightly, and I hit Dex with a “you can’t be serious” look. Noticing, he holds his hands up in surrender.

“Hear me out. You’re distracted in meetings, daydreaming like a teenager, and you’ve admitted you think about her more than you’d like.” Dex looks me right in the eyes, leaning forward. His voice drops to a whisper. “I think you’re in love .”

I reach across the table and shove his shoulder playfully. “You are absolutely full of it.” Dex bursts into a fit of laughter. “You’ve got to be taking the piss, Dexter. I just enjoy riling her up.”

I’ve become addicted to the feeling I get when I rile her up. I find myself looking forward to each Tuesday, waiting to see those blue eyes narrowed in my direction, the scowl she loves to point at me.

“Okay, that last line might have been me taking the piss,” Dex says through his laughs, “but I meant the rest of it.”

I don’t like the way his eyes soften as the laughter subsides. He looks like he truly means what he said, which is a cause for concern. No one, except perhaps Teddy, knows me as well as Dex does. For him to say I might like this woman who drives me crazy and has my cock stirring simply from the words she utters? Well, that’s fucking terrifying.

We finish our lunch in silence, which I find to be slightly less than comfortable—the idea that I might like Lara plays on my mind more than I’d like. Dex doesn’t question me any further, but I know him. He’ll have a hundred and one questions swirling around in that head of his, dying to ask me.

The next few days are filled with far too many thoughts of Lara. Scolding myself didn’t have the slightest impact, so I gave up. She continued to come to mind at the most inconvenient of times. A conversation with Emilia turned to thoughts of Lara when she’d mentioned the book of the month for her “Smut Club”. I refuse to utter those words out loud, but that’s what she calls it.?

Even the most mundane of tasks had me thinking of Lara. I was standing in my office last week, contemplating ignoring the barrister performance reviews awaiting my attention, when an intrusive thought struck. One minute my mind was on my employees, and the next it was on Lara. Not just any Lara, but a naked one. Eyes skimming across the expanse of my solid mahogany desk, I pictured her bent over in front of me. Her hair twisted through my fingers pulled tight enough to have her breath straining. The twitch of my cock beneath my trousers had me snapping out of that daydream in an instant.

Lara had infiltrated my thoughts in the best and worst of ways. The firm was absolutely no place to be fantasising about that infuriating woman, even if she did have a body built to be bent over and fucked from behind.?

Just yesterday, it happened again, this time during a finance meeting. One of our accountants had been going through numbers I most definitely should’ve been paying attention to. Instead, she’d uttered the word “books”, and that had been enough for my thoughts to hightail it elsewhere.?

Attending as many meetings as I do, I’ve learnt the art of appearing to pay attention whilst being worlds away in thought. That particular skill came in handy yesterday. To my staff at the table, I looked as if I were deeply enthralled by the numbers. What was I actually thinking about? How Lara would look pressed up against the boardroom windows. How she’d feel beneath my hands. What sort of noises she’d make as I toyed with her centre.

If I didn’t sort my shit out soon, I’d need an intervention.

Ten minutes after I walk into the bookstore, there’s still no sign of her. Acting totally cool and not at all like a crazy person, I circle the aisles several times with no luck. Am I really seeking her out now? Has it come to that? Oh, my brother and Dex would have a field day if they could see me now.?

Rounding the front of the store on what I’d guess to be my sixth casual lap, I catch a glimpse of the blonde ends of her hair. Much too quickly, I stop in my tracks, turning in her direction. She’s behind the counter, facing the wall behind it. Judging by the way she hasn’t turned around, I don’t think she knows I’m standing here.

From my vantage point to the side of the counter, I get the chance to really take her in, and without her berating me for it. Although I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy that. Lara has a deliciously sharp tongue for a young woman. Most of our encounters over the past couple of months have left me one of two ways: wanting to fuck her mouth to see how capable she is of insulting me with a mouthful of my cock, or wanting to devour her pussy until nothing but whimpers come from that mouth.

It’s irrational how maddening I find her, yet in the same breath, I want to fuck her into oblivion. I want to invade her thoughts as thoroughly as she has invaded mine.

The first thing I notice: she’s wearing a skirt. A reasonably short skirt, given the cooler weather we’re still experiencing. The second thing I notice: her legs are fucking divine. Not because they’re long and could belong to a supermodel. No, Lara is a little on the shorter side; I have at least a head on her. They’re divine because they’re hers. Seeing them on display for the first time has me feeling like a horny teenager.

Her calves are well-defined, probably from a childhood of dancing, and her skin looks unimaginably smooth. The desire to run my hand up her thigh to know how her skin feels beneath mine is almost painful.

Good god, this really needs to stop. Since I’m sure it would be in everyone’s best interest if I cut today’s visit short, I turn on my heel and move towards the door. A floorboard squeaks beneath my foot, and immediately I know I’ve been caught.

“Nothing to say today then, Mr Darcy?” Lara’s teasing tone sounds from behind me. The one that makes me want to walk right back over there and bend her over the counter. Perhaps a good spanking is what she needs, some form of release she clearly isn’t getting.

My eyes meet hers. Her pupils grow as I hold her gaze, the corners of my lips rising ever so slightly.

“You knew I was in the store, didn’t you?”

Her eyes sparkle with humour. “Of course I knew, you’re rather heavy-footed.”

My jaw goes slack as I gape at Lara. A sly smirk is directed at me, her eyes narrow and feline-like.

“Rather heavy-footed?” I exclaim, quite taken aback at the accusation.

Lara bursts into a full-blown laugh, rendering her speechless. The look on my face really must have been something because tears of laughter stream from her closed eyes. I use her distraction to my advantage and stride right up to her side.

As if sensing me, she opens her eyes. Before I can stop to think, what the fuck are you doing? I reach my hand up and cup her jaw. My thumb brushes beneath her eye, wiping away the remaining lone tear. Our eyes lock once more, and my pulse races the same way it did that first day. Fuck, she has such an effect on me. The rapid beating of my heart radiates into my stomach and floods my ears. Her skin is soft to the touch, like silk beneath the pad of my thumb.

I decide to take a risk: up the ante of flirtation and get a real reaction out of Lara. “It would seem I’m not quite as heavy-footed as you believed.”

It’s as if the sound of my voice breaks her out of a trance. Lara blinks once and stumbles backwards, seemingly attempting to break contact. Her foot catches on a stray pile of books. For the second time in the past two minutes, I reach for her. This time, my hands wrap around her waist and pull her towards me. Face slamming into my chest, I inhale the sweet raspberry and rose scent of her. Lara’s hands latch onto my biceps. Her warmth envelopes me, and I contemplate never letting her go.

Once again seeming to hear my thoughts, she releases me and pushes against my chest. I’m conflicted, as I often am when it comes to her. One part of me is still thoroughly gobsmacked that I’m thinking of her as anything but a pain in the arse, while the other part is utterly disappointed by the loss of contact.

Lara takes a step back, this time avoiding the now-fallen tower of books, and looks up at me.

“What was that about?” Her tone is stern as her arms cross over her chest, but the way her eyes roam over my body betrays her.

“Thought you could use a hand,” I reply simply, the smirk from earlier developing in full. “You’re awfully clumsy, Lara.”

She stares at me, mouth agape. “I am not! I wouldn’t have tripped over those books if it weren’t for you in the first place.”?

“You’re right,” I admit. Lara’s eyes flare briefly. “Next time, I promise to warn you before touching you. I’d hate for you to fall for me.”

If eye rolls were audible, Lara’s would’ve been the most obnoxious moan imaginable. I’d like to hear that noise under different circumstances, preferably my name, but a moan is a moan. I don’t miss the way her cheeks turn a shade darker as I send her a wink over my shoulder, strolling unhurriedly toward the front door.

There’s not a single doubt in my mind that this isn’t one-sided. I’ve seen the way her cheeks turn crimson when I’m a little more adventurous with my flirting. The way her lips part and her eyes darken when my gaze skates across her body. She may deny it, but Lara is affected by me.

I need to find a way to prove it.