Chapter 2

Six months later.

Chase thought how Christine surprised him every day. He could not fault her work. She was always on time. He admired her flawless typing and the way she kept up with his hectic schedule. So far. Only one thing bothered him. Ms. Morrison was as cold as the Arctic winds. She despised him. He found it amusing. The way she pursed those full lips in a thin line whenever she saw him ...

Well, I suppose I do have something to do with that. I am not exactly warm and fuzzy towards her.

In the past he's had too many women getting the wrong idea when he treated them friendly. Not to mention those that tried to use him to get promoted. And let's face it, she is damn hot. The only thing bothering him - no, pissing him off - is Mason Pritchard has his lecherous eye on her. Not again. Not this time.

But I don't want to complicate my life with a simple physical attraction. I am attracted to her I can't deny it. But I can't act on it. Especially not with my secretary. I am not my father.

"Mr. Ward?" Christine called from the closed door. She entered bringing with her a soft, lingering smell of vanilla and roses.

Damn, she smelled amazing. "Yes?" I just lifted my eyes briefly, suddenly very interested in the annual report on my desk.

"You asked me to work overtime tonight."

"Oh right. It completely slipped my mind." I was too busy thinking about your long legs and the way you sway those dainty hips. I cleared my throat. "Um... Yes, we are having an audit in the morning. I just need you to help me with a few things. It shouldn't take too long."

"Do you want me to organize dinner?" she asked, fidgeting with a loose strand of honey coloured hair.

"Yeah, sure. I'll have whatever you're having." he said, thinking that he actually did not need her help so much as that he needed her company. All his financials were in order anyway. So what, she gets paid for working overtime. I'm sure a girl like her needs the extra cash.

* * *

"You know, Christine, I won't give up until you go out with me." Mason Pritchard said while cornering her in the passage on the way to the file room. He pulled her into the small office.

Christine stood with her back against the door, ready to bolt should he try anything funny.

"Mr. Pritchard I - " she began.

"Mason, please. I'm not your boss." He smirked at her. His rakish blonde hair fell forward and he swept it back with one hand.

"Mason, it's nothing personal. I just have so many things on my mind lately. I really don't have time to -"

"Rubbish. A beautiful girl like you should make time to have fun. Don't you like me, Christine?" He pouted, looking like a schoolboy being reprimanded by the teacher.

She laughed at his expression.

"See? You should laugh more often. It makes your eyes sparkle." He lifted her chin to look up at him. "You are way too serious. Is Chase dragging you down?"

Christine turned her face away from his touch. "I need to get back. I just need to get a file." She scooted around him to the cabinets. This man was too much.

He chuckled, one hand on the doorknob. "See you around, Christine."

* * *

Gosh, Mason just doesn't know when to give up. He had been after her for months now. Relentlessly.

What the issue is with him and Mr. Ward she would like to know, but couldn't bring herself to ask anyone. She did not like gossip. It's not like she could just walk up to Chase and ask him straight out. She chuckled to herself, imagining how that conversation would go.

She busied herself with the file she got from the filing room. Her thoughts kept straying to Chase. If only he could be a bit friendlier. In the six months she has been working for him, he barely glanced at her. Hell, he hardly acknowledged her presence, the asshat. Not that she wanted him to drool over her, but darn it, don't treat her like a robot. "Morrison this and Morrison that." He never uses her name. Why it even bothers her, she's not sure. But it does.

And suddenly he is asking her to stay late. For the audit. Huh! His financials are in perfect order. He is almost anal about all his records. She once accidentally misfiled a document and he had such a tantrum, they could hear him two floors down. Oh well, she won't say no to overtime. Her parents need help after all. After her father lost his job because of his gambling addiction, she has been helping where she could to put out fires.

I cost them so much. They never blamed me for Heather's death as much as I blame myself. After all the therapy, the medical expenses and my tuition, they deserve my help.

Christine would never blame her father for going off the rails. He wanted to make more money to give them the life they deserved. But things went from bad to worse and he got roped in. Just one more bet and he would make it big. The more he bet, the more he lost. She thought that her mother deserved a medal for sticking with him. Most women would have left. Not to mention the heartbreak after Heather... No, she must not dwell on such sad thoughts. Not while there is work to be done.

* * *

Christine came into the office to find Chase had taken off his jacket. The heat in his office slammed into her. He rolled up his sleeves of his white dress shirt to reveal well toned forearms. Discarding his silk tie he unbuttoned the top three buttons of the shirt. She froze in the doorway and had to swallow twice to get her voice back. Could it be only the July heat getting to her, because she felt a little lightheaded of a sudden?

"There's something wrong with the darn AC." he explained. "I'm baking out in here."

"I... I'll call a repair company first thing." she croaked, fanning herself.

He just grunted in reply. "Why am I missing June of last year's statements?" He fixed her with his icy grey stare.

She couldn't answer for a few seconds. "Oh, gosh I think I might have put them in the archives. I'll go and check." Turning around too fast, she twisted her ankle and fell down at the door. A cry escaped her and tears followed. Christine wished furiously for the ground to swallow her.

"Goddammit Morrison!" He rushed to her side. "What did you do?"

Christine tried getting up and adjusting her pencil skirt that had ruched up. She yelped surprised when a pair of strong arms lifted her up as if she were weightless. Her hands held onto his broad shoulders. For a second they stared into each others eyes. She was sure her heart missed a beat. He deposited her on his desk.

"Let me see." He lifted her injured foot. The heel of her shoe had broken off. He huffed, untied the broken shoe and tossed it right across the room. The other followed shortly after. "Why the hell you wear these heels in an office is beyond me." He scowled angrily at her.

She cursed herself silently for her trembling lips and teary eyes. It hurt. Surprisingly gently, he massaged her ankle and foot. She was speechless.

"I don't think you broke anything, except for that stupid shoe." He kept on rubbing her foot. "You have pretty feet. You must take better care of them." As soon as he said that he dropped her foot and looked away.

"I am sorry for being such a klutz." she managed to say. She rubbed her eyes and sniffed. Oh marvelous. I smudged my water resistant mascara. Now I must look like a tragic clown.

"Do you need me to take you to the ER? Move your toes." He handed her a tissue.

"Thanks. No, I'm fine." She blew her nose. Getting off the desk, she put her foot down only to feel a jabbing pain shoot up her leg. Trying not to scream she just took in a deep breath.

Chase shook his head. "Well, it's a nasty sprain. I'm taking you home."

"But -"

"Morrison, don't test me. You'll be staying at home tomorrow and keep off your foot." He grabbed hold of her arm. "And don't wear those neck breakers in the office ever again, you hear?"

I feel like such an idiot. She thought he looked irritated the way he was boring into her with those eyes. His mouth set in a grim line, the same mouth that a few seconds ago was so near to her own. She could almost... No! What the heck was she thinking?

He took his keys from his jacket pocket, not bothering to put it on. "Up you come." He lifted her up in his arms, being careful not to lift her skirt in the process. "Put your arm around my neck,otherwise it's going to be uncomfortable ."

She felt the heat going into her cheeks, but complied. The maleness of his scent and the heat did weird things to her heart. Christine hoped to goodness he couldn't feel how it was pounding. Chase carried her out of the office. He slammed the door shut with his foot. They had almost reached the elevator when Mason Pritchard came out of his office.

Could this day get even more embarrassing? Christine fought the urge to hide her face in Chase's shoulder.

"Oh my, Mr. Ward... Don't you two look a sight. Dare I ask what happened?" The look on Mason's face was indescribable.

"Fuck of, Mason. It's none of you business." Chase growled and kept on walking. "Press the button, Morrison. My hands are a bit occupied."

She did as he asked. Mason's mocking laughter followed them into the elevator.