A gorgeous Fiona a breathtaking flight attendant, tapped her heel against the boardroom floor, her eyes flicking toward the sleek glass walls that kept me in my office. I was still there, finishing a meeting—the only one scheduled that Saturday. The timing was perfect; once the meeting ended, the building would empty out for the weekend, leaving just us. The longer she waited, the more restless she grew. Her mind spun with vivid images: me stepping through that door, shedding the suit jacket and cool professionalism, my focus narrowing to her alone. Heat surged through her at the thought of me near—too near—her patience fraying as desire burned hotter. When the door finally swung open, I emerged, the last of the team already gone. Fiona stood, her pulse a wild drumbeat. “You have no idea,” she whispered, closing the distance between us, the vast boardroom shrinking under the weight of her intent. Moments later, overcome by longing, she dropped to her knees, her lips finding my Maasai warrior BBC drawing her in as she surrendered to the pull of my commanding presence.