Forbidden Desire

Chapter 3

Isabella

Someone had turned the surreal dial up to eleven in Isabella Park’s life. That was the only explanation for Oliver West standing in a conference room, in a suit, and giving that presentation.

She couldn’t even touch the guy to make sure he was real.

Wanted to.

Though she wasn’t sure whether to hug Oliver and never let go or punch him in the head for nonchalantly walking back into her life after all those years.

Isabella flexed her fingers against the counter of the unisex bathroom she’d ducked into. Actually she knew exactly what she wanted to do to Oliver, but that involved a bed, a lot less clothing, and a couple of uninterrupted hours.

Jesus, that body. Last time she’d seen him in a suit was at their high school graduation, and that had been nothing like this.

Oliver had filled out from the gangly kid he’d been. Same slim hips that begged to be grabbed, now topped by a powerful torso and arms that seemed acquainted with the inside of a gym. The jet-black hair that had been long and wandered every which way back then had been tamed into a short cut that highlighted how dark his eyes were.

Beautiful.

Even more so now. But given fifteen years of silence, she doubted Oliver had any desire to jump into Isabella’s bed. He’d made his point quite clear the autumn after they graduated.

Hey, I’ll give you a call or drop you an e-mail once I’m settled on campus.

Days had passed. Then weeks. Then years.

She couldn’t ignore Oliver, not when he was here from Sam Jackson’s company. Nor could he pretend they didn’t know each other. Her only option had been to ask for lunch. Maybe they could clear the air enough to get through the next two weeks without too much awkwardness.

Isabella scrubbed a hand over her face and stared at herself in the mirror. She’d needed to catch her breath and remind herself that Oliver didn’t want anything to do with her.

She wasn’t ready to face his coworkers’ questions yet. Too many had overheard her brief conversation with Oliver. They’d want to know what she knew about him. Which was absolutely nothing. Well, not anything she was willing to share.

This was going to be interesting. She straightened, washed her hands for the hell of it, and left the room. She almost made it back to her cube before someone stopped her, and in seconds, half of engineering was piled into the hall.

“You know that guy?”

He wasn’t sure who asked. The voice had been male. Maybe Ganesh.

“Out with the intel, Douglas.” That was Nathan, who pushed his way to the front of the crowd.

Isabella held up both hands and backed into her cube. “I went to high school with him. I have no idea what he’s like now.” Other than completely fuckable. Pretty sure Nathan was the last person who wanted to hear that. “This is the first time I’ve seen him since we graduated.”

“Oh come on.” Erin leaned against the cube wall, arms crossed. “Give us something.”

Isabella flopped into her chair and peered at her coworkers. She was only a project lead, but she’d been Stephen’s right hand man recently, documenting as many procedures as possible before the Jackson team arrived. Every person in the hall had worked with and for her at one point. She owed them something.

“He was smart and dedicated. Graduated fifth in the class.” Isabella ran a finger under her watchband. “He’s the reason I went to college. Tutored me in math. I thought I was hopeless. Turned out I just needed some help.”

So many of those nights had turned into make-out sessions on Oliver’s bed, kissing and grinding and sucking until they’d both come.

“Good kid. Sarcastic around the edges, but we were teenagers. We lost track of each other after graduation.” She shrugged to cover the pain in her chest. She’d tried to keep in touch with Oliver, but that effort had been one-sided.

“Where’s he from?” Nathan again.

“Outside Philly, same as me.” She’d seen Oliver before high school—they’d gone to the same middle school—but he’d been so far above Isabella in everything, he’d never spoken to her.

“No, I mean where’s he from?”

Isabella stared at Nathan. “He’s—I told you. We were born in the same hospital.” All true, and she certainly wasn’t about to give Nathan what he wanted. “That’s all I know, honest.”

There was some grumbling, but eventually they trickled away. A few out to lunch and others to eat at their desks.

Her stomach was in too much turmoil for her to think about shoving anything into it, so she grabbed some water, brought up her tasks for the development sprint they were in, and tried to lose herself in code. Didn’t work. She could trace a line of history from her current job back to the first time she’d kissed Oliver.

Isabella rubbed her eyes. She didn’t remember how I can’t believe I got an A on that test! I so could kiss you right now, had turned into kissing, then touching, then humping so hard they’d both come in their jeans.

But she could remember the taste of his lips and mouth, the blinding orgasm, and Oliver’s whispered holy s**t before he’d kissed Isabella again. God. She wanted to know how Oliver kissed now, if he tasted the same, if he moaned like he used to.

There went any illusion she’d ever gotten over Oliver.

It f*****g hurt, too. There should have been a phone call. An e-mail. A damned f*******: or LinkedIn request. Something. Not… walking back into Isabella’s life as if he hadn’t run away all those years ago.

None of the code on her screen made sense. “f**k it.”

She grabbed her water bottle and headed for the exit. Maybe a walk and some fresh air would clear her head and she’d have a better reason for her pounding heart other than Oliver f*****g Kurt.