My Immortal by Ginger Voight

need another lecture from him reminding her of it.
    The smell hit her before she could round the corner. Something in her office was different, and she knew immediately it was flowers. Had she missed something? Was it her birthday already? That was the only time anyone sent her flowers and it was always from her mother. When she saw her desk she knew it wasn’t her mother this time.
    There were flowe rs everywhere, red roses in particular. Several arrangements covered her desk, some sat on her file cabinets, and some even on her window sill. She glanced over at Brian, who was armed with nasal spray and a handful of antihistamines. He grinned at her with bloodshot eyes. “Can you tell Prince Charming that your office mate has severe allergies?”
    “ What are you talking about? I don’t know who sent these.”
    He stifled a sneeze as he pointed to a card on her desk. She picked it up and noticed the ornate N-S embossed on the top. “You’ve got to be kidding,” she whispered. She opened the envelope. I’ll be dining at Gerard’s this evening , it read. I’d love the pleasure of your company. Nicholas.
    She sent a puzzled glance to Brian who was grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Bon appetit.”
    “ Like I’m going to go,” she said. She didn’t date. And she had no intention whatsoever starting with this man who had such an odd effect on her.
    Brian laughed and sneezed simultaneously. “Suit yourself. I’m sure Denise Carter won’t mind stepping in.”
    Adele pursed her lips as she glared at him. He was right, and she knew it.
    She was uncertain that she was going to go right up until she was being led by t he maître d to Nicholas’s table. It would have been so much easier, and so much smarter, to never lay eyes on the man again. She could pawn off her story on an underling, give the flowers away to charity, and once again resume the solitary, devoted life she had always enjoyed – or at the very least tolerated.
    However Adele found herself unable to do that and she really couldn’t even blame her rival. Her thoughts returned to those dark eyes and how looking into them warmed her all the way to her toes. It was an entirely new feeling and not altogether unpleasant.
    She spent the entire afternoon going back and forth, arguing with herself over what to do. She finally convinced herself that this was a golden opportunity to get close to a man most reporters in her town woul d have given their eye teeth to interview, especially Denise Carter. He could call it a date if he wanted, but for Adele it was all business.
    At least that’s what she told herself. She tried not to think about why she took extra care to slip into a show-stopping red dress that clung to every curve and dipped low to expose the creamy expanse of her chest. She justified every single second she spent getting her makeup just so. She had never even taken as much care standing in front of the camera as she took in preparing for this date. “Interview,” she insisted to herself again. It was an interview.
    Nicholas stood as she approached the table . Though she was not necessarily short, he towered over her; his suit could barely contain his muscular build underneath. Her breath was once again wrenched from her lungs at the mere sight of him, and she could not lie that the smile of appreciation on his face was worth all the extra effort she had put into her appearance.
    It really was easier to catch flies with a little honey.
    Of course the cynical part of her wanted to know exactly what his agenda was. She knew for a fact the likes of Denise, who was younger, blonder and thinner, made her look like a wallflower in comparison no matter how artfully her makeup had been applied.
    But the other part of her, the girly part she’d fought so hard to bury, felt more like a woman in his eyes than she’d ever felt in her adult life. She didn’t feel like a silly substitute, she felt sexy and appreciated. For just a moment she understood what