He goes to grab me and I pull out of his grip and take off up the hill. He lets out a roar and chases me and I laugh out loud.
It’s been a great day, the best.
Whoever named this estate was right on the money. I am totally enchanted.
Monday morning, 11 a.m.
I sit in the boardroom along with my colleagues, waiting for Elliot for our monthly meeting. After the most incredible weekend in history, I’m floating on cloud nine.
Elliot walks in, back ramrod-straight and in a perfectly fitted blue suit. His dark hair is messed up to a perfect just-fucked look and his eyes find mine across the room. “Morning,” he says as he closes the door behind him.
His presence instantly takes over the room, power personified.
My stomach flutters. Good grief, I’m totally fan-girling over this man.
In my defense though, there’s a damn lot to fan over. I’ve never met anyone quite like him.
“Good morning.” I concentrate on keeping a straight face and acting normal.
He puts his computer down on the large boardroom table. “How was everyone’s weekend?” he asks as he looks around.
“Good thanks.” They all start to answer and chat.
“How was yours?” I ask.
His eyes find mine and he gives me the best come-fuck-me look I have ever seen. “Exceptional.”
My heart skips a beat.
I bite the inside of my lip to stop myself from openly swooning at his feet.
Get a hold of yourself Kate, slow it down.
He begins to read through the meeting notes from last month and my stomach contracts with a sharp pain.
Oh no.
My period.
I close my eyes. Damn it. Not now.
The meeting continues as pain throbs through me, and perspiration wets my skin.
Elliot is standing at a whiteboard talking with a marker in his hand.
My stomach twists hard and I drop my head.
Oh . . . this hurts.
His eyes come to me and a trace of a frown crosses his face as he talks.
He continues but I feel the hot release and stand in a rush. “I’m sorry, I have to leave,” I whisper through pain.
“Is everything alright?” He frowns.
“I’m unwell.” I rush for the door. “I’m sorry, I’ll catch up in the notes.”
I make it down to my floor, grab my handbag, and practically run to the bathroom.
I don’t have time for this crap.
ELLIOT
I dial Kate’s office; it rings out. Where is she?
I exhale heavily and get back to my report, something is wrong. I dial her floor manager. “Hello Peter, can you put me through to Kathryn, please.”
“She’s gone home sick, sir.”
I frown. “Ahh, okay.” I hang on the line as I roll my pen underneath my fingers on my desk. “Did she mention what was wrong?”
“Stomach problems.”
“Thank you.” I hang up.
I dial her cell phone. “Hi El,” she answers softly.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah, sorry to leave early.”
“What’s wrong?”