Maya’s pov

“The third quarter still does not balance no matter how many times I adjust the client retention figures,” I say, my fingers tight on the keyboard as I stare at the glowing screen.

The clock on the wall already reads past eight and the rest of the building feels dead quiet around us.

Rhett stands directly behind my chair now, close enough that the heat of his body soaks straight through the back of my blouse.

“Show me the formula again,” he says, voice low and rough near my ear.

I lean forward a little to point at the cell on the spreadsheet.

When his arm comes over...