On His Turf by Jennifer Watts Page A

laughs.
    “That’s only because there isn’t a card made for ‘I want to have hot, steamy, marathon sex with you,” she says matter-of-factly.
    “Leigh!” I shout at the same time Donovan bellows, “enough Miss Simpson!” Leigh immediately stops laughing and she looks a little shocked by his outburst. Her cheeks turn bright red and she looks down at the floor.
    “Sorry,” she mumbles, already heading in the opposite direction. “I’ll call you later, Caramel,” she adds before fleeing down the hall to the bank of elevators at the end.
    “Caramel?” Donovan raises an eyebrow.
    “It’s her nickname for me,” I mumble.
    “I like it,” he says softly. “But I’m worried about you, Carmelina. All of this - these displays - it isn’t like you and after hearing what Miss Simpson said I think I have a better understanding of what is going on.”
    “Nothing is going on,” I say, my face flushing. “And with all due respect sir it’s my personal business.”
    “When your personal business starts interfering with your performance in this office then it becomes my business,” he says in a voice that’s laced with disapproval.
    “How is it interfering? Because he sent lunch and flowers?”
    “You seem different,” he exhales. “I understand that he’s a minor celebrity around town and also an athlete but those are two very good reasons for you to stay away from him.”
    “Stay away from whom?” A familiar voice interrupts us at the same time a tanned, muscular arm circles around my shoulders. I close my eyes and curse the Gods of fate that Shane would choose this exact moment to come waltzing into the office. He pulls me against him and I am enveloped in the delicious scent of fresh cut grass and soap. “There you are, babe. I’ve been looking all over this place for you.”
    “You must be Shane,” Donovan addresses him but I notice he doesn’t smile or extend his hand.
    “I am. Funny, I have absolutely no idea who you are since Carmelina’s never talked about you,” he counters.
    “That’s not surprising since she mentioned to me that you only met last week. I’m Donovan, Managing Editor of the features department.”
    “You’re her boss .” Shane stresses the last word and there is a brief pause while the two size each other up. Shane is bigger and more muscular than Donovan but my boss is slightly taller, and from the way they are standing I feel like I’m caught in the middle of one giant pissing contest. Shane keeps his eyes on Donovan as he leans forward and presses his lips against my ear. “I brought you something,” he whispers.
    “Of course you did.” I roll my eyes and his other arm lifts over my shoulder to reveal a six-pack of beer from my favorite local micro-brewery. I can’t help the big smile that spreads across my face and it makes Shane laugh out loud.
    “You see Donovan? I’ll never understand women. I send her the most expensive flowers I can find, gifts, gourmet foods and plane tickets and the thing that makes her the happiest is half a dozen bottles of cold beer.”
    “There’s no alcohol permitted in the office,” Donovan replies coolly.
    “It’s not even open, man. Besides, I’m saving it for when Carmelina takes me back to her place.”
    “Who said you are coming back to my place?” I shout, a little too loudly and a few heads pop up from the surrounding cubicles.
    “I’m afraid this has turned into a bit of a scene,” Donovan says while glaring at Shane. “Miss Dahl, please see your guest and his beer down to the lobby and meet me back in my office right after.” He doesn’t wait for me to answer and stalks into his corner office and slams the door.
    I walk over to the elevators with Shane in tow. “That guy wants to fuck you,” he says matter-of-factly and I gasp in response.
    “Jesus, Shane! This is where I work,” I shush him as the mail guy passes by and gives us a weird look.
    “You know that he wants to fuck you,” he says and I