Grayson Taggart Steele is a man who has everything, except for the woman who haunts his dreams. When an earthquake gives him the opportunity he’s been hoping for, he is finally able to claim her as his. Will Caitlyn give into the passion between them, or will the aftershock of their encounter leave them with no chance for a future?
An Erotic Romance Novella.
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She was being punished, she was sure of it.
Caitlyn Watson heaved out a deep sigh as she silently prayed that this day would be over soon. It had started out as a stellar morning when Caitlyn had gotten caught in San Francisco traffic, and the asshole in front of her hadn’t been paying attention when they had gotten the signal to turn left. After several seconds of laying on her horn, the jerk had finally moved, but she had still gotten caught at a light after he had turned just as the light turned red.
Then the trolley had come and the she was stuck for another round as she missed the turn signal again, this time getting honked by the car behind her. Like it was really her fault that she didn’t go through the light and hit a trolley full of people. Maybe she could have, but in reality she didn’t want to go to jail for manslaughter just because she was late to work.
She had pulled into the parking lot of Manchester Klein to find that the only spot available within a mile of the entrance was between two huge trucks that looked like they could have shit her mini coop out, and still had room for more. Once she had crawled out the driver’s side of her car, she realized that she had slammed the door on her suit jacket…after she pulled away and heard the sound of the material ripping.
With no other option available to her, she had walked toward the building, painfully aware that the seam in the back of her suit jacket was now torn when the right heel of her favorite pair of shoes had gotten caught in a crack on the sidewalk and had broken off with a snap. At least it was Friday and she didn’t have any client meetings scheduled today.
Inside the safety of the building, she had entered the elevator holding her poor, broken shoe in her hand. Caitlyn told herself to wait until later to lament her comfortable, basic black pumps as she limped off the elevator and made her way to her desk. Slinking over to her desk by the front window, she dropped her briefcase down next to her broken shoe and opened her lower desk drawer. Looking down, she eyed the pair of bright red shoes there with resignation and, if she were honest with herself, a little bit of fear.