After an hour of meeting with the firms HR staff to fill out appropriate forms and paperwork, Priya finally had a single, desolate moment to breathe. Or panic.

She slipped into the empty—YAS!—staff kitchen, shut the door and sucked in slow, deep breaths while counting to ten. Even in here the furnishings, the cabinetry—all eye-watering white with pale washes of aqua and chrome. Desperate for something to quench the dry ache in her throat, she filled a glass with water from the tap and guzzled it down while inside she screamed in frustration.

This wasn't supposed to happen. She was a top student; she'd excelled at every challenge, and conquered every adversary. Priyanka Seth did not lose.

So why did this feel like a loss?

Because she'd thought having her resume plucked out of an endless pile by Marai Nagao herself meant that her days of sweat, blood and effort had finally gone recognized? That she was done proving herself and could now concentrate on forging her name as a litigator on the rise?

This associate-ship was hers by right. Grueling years of personal sacrifice and academic hell should have seen to that. Trial period? Compete against twenty potentials for the sole first year associate-ship position where she'd have to claw out throats like some warped episode of Suits meets the Bachelorette?

Annoyed and aggravated beyond measure, Priya pounded her glass against the counter—though careful not to break it.

"Look what the tiger dragged in."

That voice...that sinful, deep, velvety voice stroked up her spine and glided across delicate nerve endings like a tongue to her skin. Intimate and bold, hearing it snapped her senses awake. She recognized the voice as well as the low, heady rumble of his laugh that followed as Priya turned around and came face to face with Mr. Panty-thief.

Four years of law school, she had developed a keen eye for details. How to read between the lines and see beneath the skin.

To sum him up in three words? Broad. Tall. Delicious. Dark hair styled and skin golden from heritage instead of sun, his eyes molten brown and lips full, all framed by the hard edge of his jaw. And that was just his face.

This guy was breathtaking while sober, drunk?— she'd have never stood a chance.

"I thought I saw you streaking down the hall," he said and heat flashed in her cheeks at his select choice of words.

"I think you meant cat," she said, "but either way I take umbrage. I'm an accomplished, independent woman. Not a feline."

"Yes, you are. And I have the scratches on my back to prove it." He leaned casually against the frame, his body doing all kinds of things to a navy suit that should have been considered illegal.

Then his smile flashed and somewhere in heaven an angel had a screaming orgasm.

"I think these belong to you." he added, voice low as he pulled his hand out of his pocket to spin a scrap of hot pink from the end of a capped fountain pen.

Mortified, Priya rushed forward to snatch them before anyone happening by and saw him waving her panties like a flag of truce. Or a call to war.

Sighing, she tucked them into a tight wad in her first. "So, you're the guy I slept with last night."

"Alas, to my great dismay, we got as far as my shirt and your panties before you succumbed to an alcohol-induced coma. You slept in the bed, I took the couch. Nothing happened," he said stoically, laying a hand over his heart. "My word as a gentleman."

"What kind of gentleman steals a girl's panties after a random hookup?"

He blinked at her, surprised and amused. "You truly don't remember a thing?"

Priya whisked up a hand, pointing at herself. "Alcohol-induced comas often lead to memory blackouts," she quipped.

He smiled again and her knees locked beneath her for support against the waves of his easy charisma. Why hello, whoremones. We meet again.

"Fair enough. Allow me to fill in the blanks." He advanced closer, under the pretense of discretion but Priya could see he was enjoying this little game of cat and mouse. But she held her ground, even if it meant letting him get all up in her personal space.

Close enough to see the fleck of amber in the dark brown of his eyes, and smell the hint of soap on his skin.

"You peeled them off in the elevator," he whispered. "Stuffed them in my pocket."

A wave of chills spiked down to her toes. Ermigawd!

"The next morning I was a little...scattered and didn't realize I'd had them until I was already in the building. Go ahead." He nodded to the narrow cover behind the frosted glass door. "I'll stand watch."

Scowling at him, forsaking his presence and modesty—because what hadn't he already seen?—Priya wiggled into her hot pink boy shorts. Better that than walking around bare-assed for a second longer.

"You know you're lucky, I'd considered chucking them in the bin when I got here but they're very...eye-catching. They almost fell out during my interview." He laughed brightly. "Christ, wouldn't that've made a hell of an impression?"

"Interview?" she demanded and stepped out from behind the door to find him once more leaning back against the jamb. Ah! Amazing what a pair of panties could do for a girl's confidence. "You had an interview this morning?"

"8:25 am sharp." He rolled his teeth over his bottom lip and shrugged. "I wanted to get home to shower and change, which is why I left so early. Ditching a woman is not my usual style, I might add. Had I known you were also a candidate for consideration, I would've stuck around for breakfast and we could've done the walk of shame together."

There was such utter sincerity in his voice, she found it hard to doubt him even if she wanted to. Priya attempted to match his smirk with one of her own, but her face felt tight, her belly was still working into tight little knots from the alcohol and the drumming in her skull had reared into the promise a full-blown migraine.

All she wanted to do now was get home, crawl into bed and die.

If he'd had an interview this morning, that meant he was one of the twenty she was going to be pitted against. While that ordinarily wouldn't bother her—one thing she'd learned about survival in Harvard was to never lose your edge. And she'd already done that this morning with by losing her panties. She couldn't afford any more surprises.

"Where did we meet?"

"At the Stikeman's event. I was outside finishing a call when you swept out for some air. We got to talking and both agreed we'd have a lot more fun somewhere else. I suggested a great bar around the corner and the rest," he shrugged, "I think explains itself."

It did indeed. "Well, thank you for being so...vivid. And for the room service," she added, grudgingly, arms crossed.

"My pleasure, Priya." Mirth glimmered in his eyes as she remained silent, her cheeks blazing. "Take it you can't recall my name, either?"

Scheisse. She squinted her eyes, wracked her brain. Now that she'd seen his face, heard his voice, glimpses and glimmers rose through the fog.

The ring of laughter, the tipping of shot glasses, the wild heat of his mouth, his voice hot in her ear, panting something...

Har...vey, Har...kin...Har—dammit!!

"Alright, allow me to formally introduce myself. My name is Hadrian." His smile brightened and he thrust out a hand. "Hadrian Marek."

Priya's heart sank. Marek. As in Marek, Nagao and Silver LLP, which made him the son of the founding-f*cking-father of the firm. Swallowing a groan, she closed her eyes. "You're his son?"

"Guilty."

"Did I know this last night?"

His expression flickered for the barest moment, became guarded. "No. We stuck to a first name basis only."

"But isn't your first named supposed to be Aurelio? After your father?"

"Hadrian's my middle name. I prefer it because white people always bastardized Aurelio, and this way I have my own sense of identity. I stand apart from his legacy so I can forge my own."

She knew a thing or two about identity, about the importance of carving out your own to escape the long, dark cast of a shadow looming over you, but she wasn't about to let that understanding soften her resolve. This guy, however hot, was the enemy. An obstacle standing in her path to glory and the only way to remove him was by total annihilation.

"Well, I've got to swing over to HR for payroll forms. See you Monday, Tiger." And tossed her a teasing wink as he strode away.

Priya refused—refused—to check out his perfect ass.

https://youtu.be/YBHQbu5rbdQ

**AN**

Mr. Panty-Thief has been revealed. Can this day get any worse for Priya? Hard to imagine so.

I think this is going to make for a very interesting work environment.

Ever have a crush on someone you weren't supposed to? Coworker? School buddy - best friend? Lets share and commiserate over the ones we've wanted but couldn't have.