He said nothing. I knew there were feelings and ideas and a freaking personality beneath that beautiful surface, but he’d cut me off from it all.
“You treat me like I’m the worst person on the planet, and then you do sneaky nice things for my parents. You hire homeless single mothers. You pick fights with me, and then you have my favorite burrito delivered. How in the hell do you know what my favorite burrito is anyway?”
He took a step toward me. But I held up a hand before he could answer.
“You know what? Never mind. I don’t want to know. The only thing I do want to know is what do you want from me?”
For one brief, shining moment, the man looming over me like a pissed-off vampire about to take a bite looked as miserable as I felt.
“I want you not to matter at all,” he said. His tone was calm, but there was heat, a silvery fire in those gray eyes.
It was rude, I’d give him that. But it felt like a damn victory. A heady one. I was tired of being the temperamental one. Of feeling like I was the only one driven to distraction by our mean-spirited back-and-forths.
I mattered to him, and he hated that.
“Back at you, big guy.”
“You should go,” he said suddenly.
“Why? Don’t you like having me here in this very nice office?” I wandered over to his desk. It was a huge pane of glass with sharp corners, empty except for a keyboard, mouse, and two monitors.
I wondered if he liked order or just hated chaos.
I trailed my fingers along the beveled edge, knowing full well I was leaving smudges. “You seem upset,” I said, pausing and locking eyes with him. “Want to talk about it?” I offered before hopping up to perch on the glass surface.
His gaze darkened dangerously, and he took a few steps in my direction before stopping. My heart rate kicked up. “I don’t like who either of us becomes when we’re together,” he said.
I scoffed. “You think I like this?”
“I think you love it.”
Had he moved closer? Or was I leaning toward him? My knees were almost close enough to brush the sharp creases of his trousers. We were magnetized to each other. Enemies drawn together again and again.
I was so damn tired of it.
There was an electric tension growing in the space between us. Like when the hair on your arms stands up just before a lightning strike.
“I don’t,” I insisted huffily.
Then my knees were brushing his legs, and he was stepping between them, parting my thighs as I craned my neck to look at him.
My breath caught.
His fingers flexed at his sides, and then they ghosted over the tops of my thighs before he planted his hands on either side of my hips. God. He even smelled gorgeous.
Lucian dominated my senses. The subtle gray stripes in his tie matched his eyes exactly. The heat pumping off his body felt like I’d entered a sauna. His scent was crisp, clean, deadly. I could hear a heart beat, and it was loud enough to think maybe it belonged to both of us.
“You do. You think that one of these days, you’ll land exactly the right insult, and you’ll be able to see through my cracks.”
His voice was barely above a threatening whisper. His gaze was locked on mine. It created a strange gravity. As if I couldn’t look away or I’d somehow just float off without that anchor.
I didn’t know what was happening here. But I did know I didn’t want him to stop talking. I didn’t want him to step back.
“What would I see beneath those cracks?” I asked.
He closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to break the spell. But I wasn’t going to let him. Not this time. I reached out and did what I’d fantasized about for years. I grabbed his perfect tie and yanked him closer.
“Do not play with me, Pixie,” he growled. His words were a warning, but those eyes were open now, and I saw something else in them. Something fiery.
My biological instincts were scrambled. Instead of fight or flight, my body seemed to have added a third option: fuck.
“Don’t call me that,” I breathed.
“Then stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” I whispered. His thumbs simultaneously brushed the outer curve of my rear end where it met his desk, and I absolutely almost lost consciousness.
This didn’t feel like hate. This felt like something much more dangerous.
“Like you want me to…” The unflappable Lucian Rollins lost his train of thought as he looked at my mouth. The rawness I saw on that gorgeous face both terrified and fascinated me.
I wondered briefly if Lina’s heart condition was contagious, because my heart seemed to be limping along like it forgot how to beat properly.
“This is a horrible idea,” I said in a near whisper.
“Worst I’ve ever had,” he agreed.
Neither of us moved. Neither of us came to our senses.
“I’m exhausted by us,” I admitted.
“I hate us,” he countered.
My fingers began to ache, and I realized I still had them locked around his tie.
His mouth hovered over mine, not quite touching. We were breathing the same air as our bodies caught fire. My head was spinning, flinging away all logic as I clung to the one thing that felt right. Him. I wanted this. I wanted him.
“Excuse me, sir.”
Lucian didn’t move. But I sure as hell did.
“It’s time to unhand the librarian. Her friends are waiting, and you have an emergency call from Boston on the line,” Petula announced briskly from somewhere behind Lucian’s broad chest.
With a yelp, I launched myself forward in a panicked attempt to slide off the desk. But instead of dismounting, I only managed to crash my crotch into Lucian’s.
I was sandwiched, suspended in the canyon of space between the edge of his desk and what could only be described as a mega erection. My legs were draped over his thighs in what would have been the perfect position for getting railed.
“Oh God,” I squeaked.
If I could feel how hard he was, did that mean he could feel how wet I was? This was knowledge neither of us needed the other to have.
Lucian’s nostrils flared, and his hands were now gripping me by the hips. Hard.
“Out,” he snapped without looking away from me.
“No,” Petula decreed. “You pay me to maintain order, not to tolerate your blatant disregard of your schedule. You do not have time to canoodle with Ms. Walton. It will have to wait.”
“Canoodle?” There was a hysterical edge to my tone, and for one fleeting moment, I thought I caught the flash of amusement on Lucian’s face, but it was gone as quickly.
“Ms. Walton was just leaving,” Lucian said coldly.
He gripped my hips with powerful fingers and placed me firmly on the floor. He gritted his teeth and took a step back. The silk of his tie, the only thing that still tethered us to each other, slid through my fingers.
Feeling petty, I grabbed the tail end of his tie and flipped it saucily over his shoulder.
“See you around, Lucifer.”
10
Annoyed and Hungry
Lucian
You seem tense,” Emry observed.
“Tense? Why would I be tense? Just because I’ve got clients to deal with, the FBI moving at a snail’s pace, an exasperating woman interrupting my schedule, a tail that smells like the Hugo crime organization. There’s no reason to be tense,” I snapped.
The city streets were always bumper to bumper in black luxury SUVs. But I’d still made the tail when I’d been alerted to Sloane’s arrival.
I hadn’t been able to deal with the security issue because I’d needed to see her. I’d been compelled to ignore the situation I could have easily dealt with because I wanted to see her in my offices. I wanted to be there when she saw what I’d built.
And then I’d gone and lost every shred of discipline. I’d forgotten the most basic of lessons. Sloane’s proximity to me brought her too close to danger. It always had.
My friend steepled his fingers over his rounded belly and waited expectantly.
I realized I hadn’t even taken a seat. I’d been pacing in front of the man’s fireplace since the minute I arrived. We were meant to be having dinner tonight. But one look at me when he opened the door and he’d shed the apron and waved me into his home office.