There is silence. And more silence before he says, “Good night, Ms. Stevens.”
I pop to my feet and grab my purse, shoving it over my head and across my body and all but run through the now dark lobby. Punching the elevator call button about ten times, I will it to produce a car. The door to the offices opens and that prickling sensation is almost instantaneous. I whirl around and he is walking toward me, and why, why, why, does he have to be so stunningly male when he was so stunningly an asshole.
I lift my chin, refusing to be that gazelle. He takes his time, torturing me with his approach, until he towers over me, too close. So very close, and I can smell him, all spicy, and masculine, wonderful, in the way that he defines and owns. I can almost feel him. That is how much, despite him being an asshole today, I want this man.
“Running again?” he asks softly, his voice a low, raspy taunt that somehow still manages to be a seduction.
“I’m not running. And I’m not quitting a job that pays double what it should to compensate me for tolerating your father. I was going to call you when I got downstairs.”
“Call me how? I’m not at my desk.”
“Your cell phone number was in the Rolodex. I was going to tell you I can’t meet you someplace private.”
“Why?”
“Because you think I slept with you for the wrong reasons and therefore you think I’ll do it again.”
“Why did you sleep with me?”
“I told you my reasons last night.”
“Tell me again,” he orders.
“No.”
He arches a brow. “No?”
“No,” I repeat firmly.
“How do I know this isn’t a game?”
“If this is a game, I’m losing. Fire me if you’re going to fire me, Shane.”
“I’m not going to fire you.”
“Does that mean you’re the one playing games?”
“I don’t play games, but we both know you’re in some kind of trouble.”
“You’re my trouble,” I say defensively. “You’re the one who has me fearing I’ll lose this job.”
“And people in trouble,” he says, as if I haven’t spoken, “make mistakes. But I wasn’t a mistake.”
My throat goes dry. “If you’re saying I knew who you were, I told you, I didn’t know.”
“That’s not—”
The door behind Shane opens and my gaze lifts and jerks back to Shane’s. “Your brother,” I warn softly, quickly putting two steps between us.
“Tell my father,” Shane says instantly, as if we’re holding a conversation we weren’t, “nothing has changed. I said the contract will be ready in the morning and it will be.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Brandon,” I improvise. “He’s just pushing me to get it right away.” The elevator doors open. “Thank you again,” I say and quickly dart inside the car.
Turning, I face forward and find myself pinned by Shane’s intense steely gray stare, the connection jolting me. There is something going on between me and this man. Something I don’t understand. And that is my last thought before Derek steps to the side and the doors shut. It’s over. Shane is gone. I slump against the wall, unsure of what just happened. I have my job but absolutely no clue if Shane still believes I’ve betrayed him. He said that sleeping with him wasn’t a mistake. He never said he was sorry or wrong about anything that happened in his office. So there is my answer. He believes I betrayed him and he is playing games with me.
It’s nobody’s business but mine who put these slugs in me!
—Owney Madden
CHAPTER TEN
EMILY