Days passed, but Silver's words never left my mind.

They repeated, distorted, over and over again no matter what I did, no matter where I was.

I want to be with you, and I'm going to make it happen.

We got so busy in the hours that followed her confession; I had little time to weigh the meaning of it.

But at night, alone in bed, I tossed and turned, rehashing our situation.

The incredible but forbidden sex, the blossoming feelings. It was all so exciting but so dangerous at the same time. So risky, as both of us were putting our careers and reputations at stake by giving in so easily.

Working for Silver was a non-stop whirlwind. Even over the weekend, we had banquets and meetings to attend, clients to discuss numbers with, schedules to prepare.

We toured other potential locales, had brunches, lunches, dinners, evening drinks. It was exhausting, but I learned so much about the fashion industry, which kept my mind slightly busy during the day.

All the while, I reined in my attraction for her as best as I could. I contained my feelings, begged myself not to blush whenever she looked at me, spoke to me, introduced me to whoever we were meeting up with.

I hadn't quite registered her admission yet, though it lingered in my brain. So whenever we were in public, I stayed in her shadow. I gave it my all to ensure we didn't stand too close, didn't risk touching one another.

And I used all my might to replicate this behavior when we were alone.

I continued to employ my method of sitting across from her in the backseat of the car, instead of beside her. She never commented on it; in fact, aside from furtive glances from time to time, she didn't comment on anything.

She remained so professional that I wondered if I'd hallucinated the whole thing.

Had she followed me into my room and told me she wanted to be with me? Or was I still drunk on sex with her and imagined it all?

I never got a chance to revisit the memory, to talk about the blackout night; that was what I'd started calling it in my head. If it was real, if I hadn't made it all up, had she meant it? Or was it all part of some flirtatious game to keep sleeping with me in contradiction with my contract, for the hell of it?

Was it, contrary to what she'd said, all about the sex?

"Finally got news for the second store opening," she said to me on Wednesday, as we were headed to a brunch with foreign investors.

"Took them long enough," I said, glancing out the window. If I didn't focus on the passing sights, the blurs of cars, I'd be tempted to peek into the low-cut design of her long-sleeved top, and that'd send me over the edge.

I'd been gritting my teeth and biting my nails since Saturday—blackout day—trying my hardest not to succumb to her again. She wasn't doing anything to seduce me, which almost made it worse. She didn't know how much she enticed me. She'd tamed her outfits, kept at a distance, and resumed her colder, grumpier exterior.

And that, of course, made her hotter to me.

I appreciated her demure demeanor, but still...it made me wonder how sincere she'd been the other night.

Today, she'd donned one of the tightest white shirts I'd ever seen her wear, and so nearly transparent that it showed her neon yellow bra underneath. She'd brought a coat with her, matching her tiger-striped pants, but it was stuffy in the car, so she'd taken it off.

To my detriment.

Any time the vehicle turned or stopped too abruptly, I was drawn to her bosom. Reminded how much I'd enjoyed touching, squeezing, licking every inch of her.

"Friday night," she said, not looking up from her phone. I wasn't sure if she was trying to keep herself busy, too, or roughly absorbed in whatever was on her screen. "Same time. Can you get with all the vendors and make sure that works for them? It's last minute, but..."

I was already scribbling the information in my notebook. "They were aware it'd be short notice. When I spoke to everyone on Sunday morning, they'd been called by Yanic, since apparently he was the only one on the team to have cell service."

"He's useful for something," she said with a snort. I imagined an inside joke here, some kind of history, but I didn't push. "So these guys," she set her phone down and gestured outside, "French. Nice dudes, but inquisitive."

"Inquisitive?" I recalled the investors from the week before who'd been condescending and sexist.

"Like, literally. They ask a lot of questions." She pulled out a compact powder from her purse, dabbing at her already perfect nose. "Last time I spoke with them, they had a list. It was," she huffed, "torment."

"Do they speak English?" I prepared for an hour of listening to a beautiful language I'd never been able to pick up on in school. And doing that would prompt my gaze to flit to Silver and get me in trouble.

"Some do, some don't. Don't be surprised when I start speaking French to them." She flashed me a glance, narrowed her eyes, then refocused on her reflection.

Oh, great. Silver spoke French. Could she get any sexier?

I knew what she meant—don't get too turned on when I start vocalizing in a romantic, foreign language, please.

I couldn't make any promises.

"Take notes of whatever you do understand, but don't feel bad if you can't follow the entire conversation." She snapped her compact shut. "They talk fast. And they might look at you weird, but it's nothing against you."

Might look at me weird?

I gulped. "Why would they?"

"They're a close-knit circle of men," Silver said, tossing her compact into her purse and adjusting her sitting position. "And while they know I have an assistant, it doesn't mean they'll be super open to you attending the meeting. Their business philosophy...let's say it involves leaving assistants at the door."

I nodded, not offended; many businessmen I'd assisted in the past had the same mentality.

"Eden," she said, sending a stern stare my way. "Don't let your gaze wander today."

"Wander?" I cleared my throat and sat up straight. "What are you talking about?"

Oh, I knew what she was saying. She'd caught me staring at her over the past few days, no doubt. I thought I was discreet enough, but she must have witnessed it, and kept it to herself.

"These guys are sharper than most," she said, her lips pinched.

There she went—from Silver the potential future lover, to Silver the bad-ass boss with a grumpy attitude. Her body language was closed-off, her expression stern.

"I'm flattered you approve so much of my wardrobe, but out in public, you have to restrain yourself."

It took all my might not to retort how many times I'd caught her peeking at me. How many chances she'd taken by devouring me from across a room, or letting her legs get a little too close to mine under a table.

And now she was giving me a warning?

"Will do," I said, emotion draining from my voice. "Anything else?"

If she wanted to be cold, I'd be cold right back. We couldn't be together, anyway, no matter what she said the other morning.

I'll believe it if and when I see it.

"Don't order the frog legs," she cautioned, as Pete pulled up at the curb of an exquisite French restaurant.

I didn't order frog legs, as she requested. And I managed to avert my gaze during most of the meal, watching passersby instead. We'd been seated near a large window, and the sidewalk was packed with people coming and going, to-go coffees in their hands, folders tucked under their armpits.

We were in the Financial District in the middle of the week—of course the area was crowded. But one of the investors kept complaining, in his heavily accented English, about so much foot traffic that distracted him.

During a lull in conversation—one man had gone to the bathroom, the other spoke with the waiter about the quality of the veal he'd been served—I savored the silence. Silver spoke in hushed tones with the younger investor of the bunch, and I sipped on my wine while watching a couple outside seeking directions.

My phone buzzed in my purse, so loud it disrupted Silver's concentration.

Her eyebrows pinched together as she jutted her chin at me. "You gonna get that?"

"Well, I..." I fetched my cell and blinked at the screen, my heart stopping at the name. Ursula. "I wasn't going to be rude, but this is from the temp agency."

Silver flinched, then nodded. "Make it quick."

I pressed the green answer button as I hurried outside. It was a brisk day, but not too chilly; I'd left my jacket inside.

"Hello?"

"Eden, hi! It's Ursula, from the agency." Her voice was pleasant, meaning my fears of Silver and I having been denounced were unwarranted.

Upon seeing her name on my phone, I'd panicked, and I knew Silver had too.

"Hi, Ursula," I said, spinning to the window, where I saw Silver eyeing me. I shook my head and gave her a thumbs up; she'd get what I meant.

We're in the clear.

Ursula was typing on the other end. "So this is a follow-up, as you know. The one week check-in. Sorry I'm a few days late, but we've been busy." She breathed into the receiver. "We want to make sure this position is a good fit for you, because Silver Bell is an important client."

"Of course," I said, twisting away from the window. If I gazed at Silver too long, I'd get distracted and answer incorrectly.

These surveys were usually indicative of how long my contract would last. A longer contract, while difficult when working for someone as sexy as Silver, meant more money in the bank. I couldn't pass that up.

"How are you settling in?"

I winced, swallowed. I pushed down the images of Silver's mouth on mine, her fingers inside me, her body pressed against me. "Good. Great, actually."

"Any conflicts or disagreements to note?" Ursula's typing continued.

Silver's tone breached into my mind; the discovery of her previous affair with a personal assistant, her struggles to tame her sexual appetite. My yells at her when I barged off for a break that lasted an entire afternoon. Her withering stares whenever she spotted me ogling her cleavage.

I swallowed again. "Nope."

"Do you require any additional training to better assist Silver?" The typing stopped, and I heard a slurp, followed by a gulp; Ursula took a sip of something.

"Uh..."

More flashes: Silver's eyes rolling to the back of her head as I licked her. Her squeals in my ear as I massaged her clit. Her moans as I deftly brought her to the height of her climax.

"No, no additional training needed." I smirked, then smacked my arm for daring to think like that.

"Interesting." Ursula seemed to be moving around now, heels clacking in the background. "Any final comments, notes, concerns? Are you comfortable in this position?"

I was comfortable in many positions, as long as Silver was beside me. Or writhing beneath me. Or rubbing on top of me.

I groaned internally; why were all these questions only reminding me of Silver and I fucking?

"We're still getting adjusted, but it's moving forward in a way I think is...appropriate." I hissed, then bit my tongue. "Great collaboration, I'd say."

"Swell." Ursula let out a sigh. "And reassuring, because all your replies match Silver's."

I froze, eyes wide, jaw dropping. "Huh?"

"Yeah, we call the employer, too, to ensure everything lines up," said Ursula, unfazed by my shock.

They'd never done that before. Or at least, I'd never been informed that other people that I worked for received the same survey as me.

But that wasn't what bothered me the most. They'd called Silver, and she didn't tell me. She didn't notify me so we could ensure we got our answers straight.

What if I'd answered wrong?

"So...what does that mean?" I twirled to the window. Silver had resumed her discussion, and the other men were back from their breaks.

"It means we'll keep you under contract for the entirety of the requested period." Ursula's voice was muffled for a second, then something loud echoed in my ears. "Sorry, had to step outside for a moment."

The entire requested period?

"I, uh...can you refresh my memory on how long that is?"

This answer would determine how long I'd have to keep controlling my urges around Silver.

"Three months," said Ursula, with a clicking sound in the background that resembled a lighter flicking.

"Three months," I echoed, my heart sinking in my chest.

It was a good thing, to get the full contract—it generally meant an employer had given a high rating, and it put the agency in a great light. It put me in a great light. Three months was the maximum the temp agency would permit me to work for the same person.

Three months of avoiding my feelings for Silver?

"Also," Ursula took a drag of whatever she'd lit up to smoke, "Silver requested to extend past our contract."

"What?" My jaw couldn't drop any lower.

"Once your contract is up with us, she wants to hire you directly. Out of the agency's hands."

Fuck. I pulled the receiver away from my face, my gaze burning through the restaurant window at Silver. Yet another thing she hadn't warned me of.

"Eden? Eden, are you there?" Ursula's distant voice filtered out from my phone.

I brought it back up to my ear. "Yes, sorry, I was, uh...so how does that work? Silver hiring me directly, I mean."

"Well," Ursula took another drag, "you'd have to finish up our end of the deal. And there's paperwork to sign, basically releasing you from us. You'd have to consent to her conditions, though it sounds like you're working great with her, so that shouldn't be a problem." She paused. "Unless you don't want to?"

Three months. Three more months of walking on eggshells, of closing my eyes and masking my desire. Months of keeping busy and acting like I didn't want to hop into Silver's lap and grind on her until we both screamed. Kiss her for hours until we were breathless and content.

Sure. Sure.

"Eden? Hello?"

I concentrated on the window, and on Silver sitting beyond it. She laughed at something someone said, leaning back in her seat with her hand on her chest. Her eyes creased; it was a genuine laugh.

She dabbed at the corners of her eyes, waving air at her face as she flushed red, struggling to cease her giggles. The men around her all laughed, too.

She was so beautiful. Sexy when she was grumpy, exquisite when she let her guard down, like now. Her tailored suits, her shampoo-commercial worthy hair, everything from the perfectly applied nails to the subtle jewelry she used to compliment her outfits.

Here, she was in her element, seducing and sweet-talking, convincing businessmen to invest money into her growing brand. So hot and cold, so straightforward yet so mysterious.

I adored everything about her, no matter how hard I tried not to. I looked for the flaws, and surely she had some, but they didn't stand out to me.

Silver Bell...

What wouldn't I do for this woman?

"Eden? Did I lose you?"

I shook out of my reverie, turning my back to the window as I tuned into the phone call. "I'm here, sorry."

"Right." She coughed. "So do you want to do it? Work for Silver exclusively? It would be full-time, outside of the agency. Once your three months are up. What do you think? I do need verbal consent."

Three months. My patience levels were tested on a daily basis with Silver, but...she was worth it, wasn't she?

If that meant abstention, if that meant being more cautious, resisting our urges, then I'd do it. We would do it.

"She wants this?" I sucked in my lips, released them. "Silver requested this?"

"She did."

I swirled around for one last look at her.

Was this what she'd meant by I'm going to make it happen? Did it start by taking me away from my agency, making me hers, then ensuring our new contract would be mutually beneficial?

Was it legal?

Butterflies erupted from my ribcage. Three months, and then...we could be together, for real?

"Yes," I said, perking up, my lips sliding into a gentle smile. "Yes, I consent. I'll work for Silver exclusively after three months."