In Waters Deep By Kelly Yeakle

Jack was expecting the knock on the door when it came a few hours later. What he hadn't anticipated was the sour look on Jillian's face as she stood holding the vase of yellow roses in her outstretched hands. She shoved it into his arms and moved past him into the office without an invitation to enter.

Jack met Lena's questioning stare and shrugged. He pushed the door shut and placed the vase down on the table by the window before turning his attention to Jillian. She sat perched on the edge of his desk with her feet crossed at the ankles and her hands on her hips. He could tell she was flustered by the rapid movement of her chest and her pink-colored cheeks. It was a good look for her and, if it was possible, she looked ten times sexier than when he'd first seen her.

It didn't hurt that her dark olive pencil skirt, tight against her thighs, had risen up just enough to have his mouth watering. She had on thigh-highs and, because of the ascended skirt, he could see the garter straps. His mind got the best of him and he wondered if her bra and panties matched the black stockings.

"Jack?" Jillian said his name with enough force to snap him from his fantasy. "Why did you send me flowers?" She looked him in the eye as if she were trying to read his expression to find some hidden meaning in it.

"Didn't you read the card?" He cleared his throat and attempted to keep his composure. His gaze left her face and traveled down to the shirt she wore. It was a simple button-down, but she'd managed to leave just enough undone to show a good dose of cleavage. He speculated how full her breasts would be in her bra, if they would spill over the top, and how soft they'd be to caress with his fingers.

"Jack, could you focus for just a moment here," she responded in an annoyed tone. "Of course I read the fucking card. I'm not here to be your friend."

"The flowers were my way of saying I'm sorry and as a 'welcome to the firm' gift." When she continued to frown at him he asked, "Don't you like roses?"

"I love roses." She tossed a strand of hair behind her shoulder. She'd worn it down, the curls framing her face. "It's you I don't like."