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She'd been stood up.

Kyra Benson squirmed in her seat as she glanced around the posh restaurant. Dates were one thing, but to be stood up on an interview— that was a first. And it stung. Especially as she'd been counting on this job. She checked her email again to make sure she had the right place. High Rise at the Westhorpe Hotel. Yeah, she'd gotten it right. And the hostess had a table reserved so … She was in the right place. And it was the right time. So, just like that, her job prospects went up in smoke.

She could stay and eat, but the restaurant was so upscale she might need a loan to afford a freaking salad. And with her rapidly dwindling savings, that might not be an option.

Fuck my life.

Now what was she supposed to do? She needed this job. Strictly speaking, not exactly true. She had a job offer. But she'd rather cut off her left boob than to take it. The hiring manager had spent more time staring at her tits than he had at her resume. The money was good, but not "endure sexual harassment, sell my soul" good.

She'd made her own bed. But staying in Florida hadn't been an option. Especially not after what happened. So a new start was in order.

Her so—called boyfriend, who'd eventually become her boss, had left out one niggling little detail: He was already engaged. She should have been more despondent, but it had just been the final catalyst for her getting on with her life. With her father gone and her mother spreading her wings, there was nothing left for her in Florida.

And Asshole's wifey—to—be had spent a good amount of time getting her blackballed, so getting another job was difficult.

It was make or break time. Fresh city, fresh friends, fresh job, fresh ... Where the hell was this chick? Kyra stole another glance at her watch. Shit. An hour was long enough to wait for an interview. They probably weren't that into her, which was ridiculous because she'd met with six different people before the final one.

As she pushed back her chair, the hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention and a slight shiver stole up her back like a whispered caress of her name. She glanced around to see what had caused the Danger, Will Robinson signals, and her body flushed with heat as her gaze locked on a man by the hostess table. She catalogued him in seconds. Tall, over six feet. Lean, but muscular. He had the kind of body women wanted to lick along with thick, unruly, dark hair, and stubble on his strong jaw. And a drop—your—panties—smile.

Holy girl parts Batman. He was hot. You're not here for a date. You're here for an interview. Not like that was happening anymore.

And interview or not, she wasn't in the market. After the last guy, she was done. James, and every boyfriend she'd had before him, had taught her the hard way that she clearly had shitty taste. So if she found this guy attractive, then he was likely an asshole, a con man, gay, married, only looking to fuck, etc. The list went on and on.

Kyra shoved her resumes into her folder and stuffed the folio back into her bag. When she looked back up, tall, dark and screwable was no longer near the hostess station. He was walking her way. Shit. Her body was of two minds. Flee, or, rub herself all over him.

Mr. Make—Your—Mouth—Water stopped at her table and her body flushed warm with prickly heat.

Jesus. They let someone that good—looking walk around with the normals? Up close, she sharpened her earlier assessment. For starters, he was tall enough so that she had to look up at him, which would put him at six feet two inches or so. Maybe more. His body was lean and rangy, but clearly well sculpted under his faded Star Trek T—shirt. His tanned forearms indicated that he spent plenty of time outside. His hair was more a sandy brown that curled slightly and fell over his brow.

And those eyes. Clear hazel with flecks of blue, green and yellow. His full, sculpted lips pressed into a firm line. And he smelled good. Too good. Lean—over—and—sniff—a—stranger good. Woodsy, fresh.

It only took her a few seconds to realize that he was talking to her. "I'm sorry, what?" she asked.

The corners of his lips tipped into a smile. "Are you Kyra Benson?"

She blinked. Why did he know her name? "Yeah, why?"

"I'm Bryan. There was a mix up with your hiring manager. I'm so sorry. I only found out about the interview thirty minutes ago."

She frowned. He was here to interview her? That was just awesome. Now she was expected to answer questions with someone this good looking asking them and not think about what his lips might feel like over hers. Sure. How hard could that be?

"Oh, uh, I was expecting Meredith."

His slight frown told her that was a line of conversation he wasn't enthusiastic about. "She uh, she's no longer at X2 and no one mentioned she had things scheduled."

Kyra sighed. She'd spent several days googling her new boss so they'd be able to build a rapport. "Well, that's fantastic."

"I know. I'm really sorry. I know you've already been waiting. Let me make it up to you."

She was on the verge of sitting down, but then she leveled a gaze on him. Start every relationship how you want to end it. And she was not going to roll over like a Lab. "Look, you realize, someone should have called me right? I've been waiting an hour." The tiny desperate part of her screamed, Shut up, shut up, you need this job. But the part of her who knew her worth, and had worn these damned borrowed Louboutins, knew she deserved better.

He sighed. "I'm sorry. I've looked over your resume and I know how good a project manager you are. Mylec Virus Systems was lucky to have you. From what I know about their software and how it was originally built, I know they wouldn't have gotten their next build out in time for their quarterly numbers without you."

He knew about her work. So he wasn't just some random the company had sent to appease her. He'd done some homework in the last thirty minutes. She licked her lips. "I'll be honest. I like the work X2 is doing. I think it's exciting and the fact that the company gives back, not just in word and in money but in time, is really appealing. At the same time, I'm unimpressed with the hiring process right now."

"I know. If you'll come with me, you can ask me anything you want. I'll be totally honest with you. Left to me, you would have been hired weeks ago. Certainly would have made my job a lot easier. Especially now."

Kyra wavered for a moment. She didn't know where they were headed, but she followed. If this was salvageable, then she wanted to do that. Bryan was disarming. The charm was there but in a sweet, nerdy kind of way. Not overbearing like some kind of sales guy. "I assume you're on the tech side of things."

When he cocked his head and smiled, Kyra nearly forgot what she was supposed to be talking about. Damn, that smile was lethal. They'd probably sent him because they knew he was pretty and would soften the blow of a forgotten interview.

"Yeah, I wish. I helped build the code base. But now I'm more in operations. What I wouldn't give to spend my days coding though." He rolled up his sleeve more, exposing more tanned skin and Kyra swallowed hard. "Come on. I know you've talked to no less than six people. Why don't you ask me what you really want to know?"

She'd already asked every question she could think of, from work life balance to the team makeup, to the corporate financial status. That last question was a must because she'd once worked at a start up that had been built on a house of cards and when that had come crashing down, it had been ugly. So she asked, "How long have you been there and why do you stay?"

He cocked his head again and his brow furrowed. "I've been there since the beginning. And I guess I stay because I believe wholeheartedly in what the company is doing, what we stand for. We're not just a gaming company. And that place is more than just a job. It's my family. I helped build it."

"How about the real reason my hiring manager left?"

He sighed and led the way towards Petco Park. "If you must know, suspected corporate espionage. We have some key projects we're trying to get out to market first, before our biggest competitor, Brennan Technologies."

Kyra's mouth dropped open. "Wow, okay. I hadn't expected you to answer that."

His laugh was soft as he leaned forward and it cast a warm glow over her body—in particular, her lady parts. "I told you. I'll tell you anything you want to know."

How about are you single? No. Not appropriate. And besides, she was off men. Way the hell off men. From now on, she was asexual.

She managed to ask him some more about company culture, the projects she'd be working on, and what the team dynamic was. They strolled around the East Village neighborhood, near the library.

When they rounded the corner near her new condo, she paused. "I actually am staying right up there."

He tucked his hands into his jeans. "I guess this is as good a place as any to stop then. I am sorry about earlier. Not normally how we like to do things."

"It happens I guess." She shifted on her feet.

"I know you probably have other offers."

"You'd be right about that. I'm trying to get settled as quickly as possible so I need to make some decisions."

He frowned. "You're new in town?"

Kyra nodded. "Yeah. I'm doing the living out of suitcases and interviewing thing. I haven't even had a chance to really explore the city yet."

"Oh come on. You got to make time for that. San Diego's a great city. Surfing, sunshine, and oh my God, the Mexican food." He spread his arms and Kyra couldn't help but notice his wingspan and how broad his shoulders were. Like a swimmer.

"Well, I don't know that many people yet either, just a friend I grew up with in Florida. But she just got married and the whole thing, so I'm trying to expand my network. I promise I'll make time for it. Especially the eating."

Bryan shifted on his feet, then glanced up at her building. "How about we start right now? I'll be your tour guide. And I can make up for the interview fuck up."

A laugh burst out of Kyra. "I'm pretty sure neither one of us is allowed to say 'fuck up' in an interview."

His smile flashed. "I'm not really one for rules. Besides, I think we can officially end the interview. C'mon. Let me be your guide."

Her stomach did a quick series of flips and she tried for nonchalance. Chillax. He's not asking you out. He feels bad. "I don't know—"

"Interview's over. You and I both know you're a good candidate for the job. I want to be your guide for a day. You have enough friends in this city that you couldn't use one more?"

Well, he had her there. She knew exactly five people in town: Ricca's best friends, her husband and well, Bryan was the other one. "Fine, but can I go home and change first? These shoes, as gorgeous as they are, aren't going to hold up for any kind of walking tour and, let's face it. If you're going to walk around in your Deep Space Nine T—shirt, then I need to go put something on representing The Next Generation to show that one of us has some taste in the Star Trek franchise."

He blinked at her, once, twice, then a booming laugh rumbled in his chest and he hung his head as he laughed. "I'm sorry. I'd just come from a work out. It was all I had in my bag that was clean. You're lucky I showered."

Kyra wrinkled her nose. "I'm offended you even own that T—shirt."

He kept smiling. "Then you probably won't want to know that I can quote just about any episode."

"And just when I started to think you were cool."

***

Asking her out had been a mistake, pure and simple. Bryan Ross's mind raced as he walked her to her door carrying the loot from the day. He was, for all intents and purposes, her boss. Not that she knew that.

Yeah, and you're a prick for not telling her. It hadn't really struck him that he hadn't mentioned it until they were well into their interview … date … whatever. After she'd changed into a Marvel T—shirt and jeans, he'd taken her around the city in a couple of GoCars and then the trolley. They'd hit up the spots from Seaport Village to Balboa Park to Old Town, then La Jolla to see the seals.

This was the most relaxed afternoon he'd spent in weeks, if not a few months. But the shadow of the omission hung over him.

Problem was he liked her. Really liked her. She was fun, spunky, and knew her way around a science fiction reference. Not to mention she was smart and funny. And oh yeah, he'd been sporting a hard on since first laying eyes on her at the restaurant. But that was neither here nor there.

Women were his weakness. And it would get him in a lot of trouble if he didn't keep his hard and fast rules. Rules like don't date your fucking employees. That would be a good rule to remember right about now. Especially now that he had a world of hurt coming his way with Meredith.

She was threatening to countersue and take away everything he'd worked his whole life to build. Now was not the time to get caught up in a pretty girl with wide, dark eyes and cinnamon skin who smelled like vanilla and honey. Nope. And, she works for you. Or will, once you send an offer.

Yeah, good luck with that, his dick seemed to say.

She stuck her key in her lock. "Thank you so much for today. I really had fun."

"My pleasure. Now you can talk about parts of San Diego like an expert. Mostly the tourist bits. But still."

"T—shirt and franchise choices aside, you were really great today. For what it's worth, I appreciate it." She took one of her bags from him. "Thank you. For everything. I think I was on the verge of making yet another bad decision before you showed, so yeah."

I'm a fan of bad decisions. His dick twitched. This was normally the part of the date where he'd lean forward and kiss his date. Coax her lips apart with his tongue. See if the chemistry that had been making him tingle all day was just him or reciprocal. Press her up against her door and maybe get to second base. Bryan bit back a groan. Her curves were unreal, considering how slender she was. Except this wasn't a date. And he wanted to do a hell of a lot more than kiss her.

Get it together. It had just been a while. He normally had standing dates every Wednesday and Saturday night. The women he saw weren't permanent fixtures, and no one he wanted anything more with than casual dating. They were what they were. Not much talking. Pretty arm candy if he needed to go to a function and available sex without the pesky strings. But lately he hadn't been up for it. He'd attributed his lack of interest with being busy. Except now, he was pretty fucking interested.

He also liked his life simple. And since that stupid San Diego Magazine feature last year, naming him as one of the most eligible bachelors in the city, he'd had more than his fair share of women throwing themselves at him. All wanting a piece of him, and they didn't care which pound of flesh they extracted. So now, he kept his nose clean and stayed out of trouble … for the most part.

He handed her the other bag and shoved his hands into his pockets. They'd be safer there. All day there had been those random accidental touches. A graze of a hand here, a bumping of knees there. He was so on edge he was pretty sure he'd explode if she actually touched him on purpose. She shoved open her door and dropped her bags of loot inside. "So uh—"

And here it was, the inevitable awkward moment where they addressed the swirling tension around them and one or both of them suggested doing this again. Or, even better, suggested him going inside. But not for a coffee. More like a long, slow screw. With a deep breath, he steeled himself and offered her his card with his email on it.

He had a moment of brief panic that she'd recognize his name, but he sighed when he remembered that organizational psychologist who'd suggested a flattening of the company. Only the executives had business cards, and even then, they only contained their first names and email addresses.

"So, my personal email address is on there. If you need anything, or, I dunno, want to watch a Trekkie marathon or something, hit me up." Damn, when had he become so bumbling and awkward? He was Bryan Ross for God's sake. He had more game than this. No, apparently, you don't.

She reached for the card and when their fingers brushed, he clenched his jaw in an attempt to ward off the blast of need. You better get used to it because this girl is way the hell off—limits.

What in the world had he been thinking? Correction, he hadn't been thinking. He'd acted on instinct because she made him feel like his old self. Before all the stupid hype and all the bullshit. Like him from five years ago. Well, the good parts anyway. So he'd asked her out. As a friend. As if.

Now with the tension swirling around them, he couldn't think straight. Yes, she was so beautiful with her high cheekbones, full lips, and eyes so dark they bored into his soul. But it was more than that. It was her laugh and her teasing, and the cute way she wrinkled her nose.

Cute. Someone had better take his player card with talk like that. But it was true. She was cute. And if she were his project manager, he'd totally have a crush on her. He'd probably trip all over himself just to make her happy. Just even from talking to her as they roamed the city, he knew he'd made the right choice. Because as fun as she was, there was an inner core of steel about her. She would take no bullshit.

She was the woman to get him where he needed to go. He had just over six months and he'd be taking X2 to IPO. Distractions weren't good.

Especially when they came with curves like that.

"So I'm gonna take off." He cleared his throat and handed her the enormous Spock doll he'd won her at one of the fair games.

"Uh, thanks. I'm not sure what I'm going to do with this. I suppose, if I get hired, I'll just stick it on my desk and all the developers will know how cool I am."

He grinned. They'd worship her.

She put the doll down with her other bags and smiled at him. "Thank you again. It'll be nice knowing one other person in the office." She added quickly, "If I get the job of course. Starting a new job is always rough. Never know if you're going to run into fembots or something."

He barked out a laugh. "No fembots, you have my word. And you and I both know that job is yours to take."

She flushed. "Right. Well, I've learned the hard way not to count on anything until the ink is dry and I've unpacked my stuff. So anyway …" She approached him and he froze.

When she invaded his space, a shiver stole through him. Her shampoo had been driving him insane all freaking day. Every time she'd brushed by him, or they'd sat jammed together on the roller coaster or one of the GoCars, he'd fought not to inhale too deeply. From now on, he'd always associate the scent of citrus, honey and vanilla with her.

Move damn it. He really needed to cool it with the statue impression. She was pretty tall, maybe five foot eight or nine, but as he was just over six two, he still towered above her. When she wrapped her arms around him quickly, his arms snapped around her automatically, like he finally had permission to do what he'd wanted to do all day.

You. Are. An idiot. Do not touch the new hire.

Except, she wasn't the new hire yet. Yeah, but when she finds out you're her boss, she's going to maim you. After a quick squeeze, he released her as fast as he could, trying to get back to a safe zone.

But it was already too late for that. There was nothing safe about her.

He had a choice here. He could step back, tell her it was fun and he looked forward to her coming to work at X2. By far the smartest option.

He could step back and explain that he was her boss and this was not a good idea on so many levels. Honest, and direct. But, he gathered, there'd be yelling.

Final option: Give in to the need tugging low in his belly. Give in to the pulsing just under his skin. Give in to the desire to find out if she tasted sweet after the cotton candy she'd eaten that afternoon.

Her tongue peeked out to moisten her lips and her voice was raspy, breathy. "Bry—"

His whole body vibrated. He wanted her. But he didn't want to want her. He needed her. Everything he'd worked for hung in the balance. He would not screw this up. "See you around, Kyra."

As he walked away from her, he resisted the urge to turn and look back. Going near her would jeopardize everything and there was too much at stake for that.