I’m so engrossed in working to notice it’s lunch time already. My phone vibrates on the desk and I glance at it to see James’ message.
Where are we having lunch today? My treat.
Smiling, I’m composing a reply to him when a brisk knock sounds on my door.
“Come in,” I call out.
The door creaks open slowly, like the person behind it is unsure whether to proceed. I look up, expecting to see one of my colleagues.
“Miss Griffin.”
I find myself gasping at the sight of Neal Ward instead. What is he doing here?
“Mr Ward!” I squeak, scrambling to my feet. His tall, broad-shouldered frame fills the space of my tiny cubicle of an office.
We’re merely inches apart and I can feel the heat radiating off his gargantuan body. It’s heightened by the burning look in his eyes.
“Is there anything
