If I think she will cower at my tone, I’m wrong. There are no shivers or fear. Instead, she stands taller.
“I had a few things to do before I came. Plus, you didn’t mention a time,” she offers as if that is an acceptable excuse.
“I don’t condone being fucked with, Ms. Matthews. Be here on time.”
“Will there be consequences if I’m not?” she toys, and when I duck my head down to look into her eyes, she fucking winks at me, all while smiling.
Leaning down, I place my lips by her ear. “Men have died for less.”
“It won’t happen again.” Her voice is steady, but I can feel the way her body shivers beside me.
With that settled, I step back and press the button again, allowing the elevator to move.
When it stops on the floor, we both walk out, but as we approach the doors to the office, I gesture for her to go it.
“I’ll be back.”
“Anything I can help you with?”
I let my lip tip up. “Not unless you want to help take care of something in the bathroom . . .” And then it’s my turn to wink at her.
Five minutes later, and a hell of a lot calmer, I find Skye standing by the window in my office, taking in the view.
Her body turns abruptly at the sound of my footsteps.
“Now who’s making who wait?” she chides.
“You could have come with me.” My voice drips with innuendo, and her eyes go wide before dipping down to look at my pants.
I like the way her cheeks flush. I wonder if her whole body is warm . . .
But if I don’t stop this line of thought, I will never get shit done today.
“You never told me why you were late,” I say, not that it’s any of my business, but I need something to take my mind off of imagining her naked. When she doesn’t answer, I press. “It’s not a difficult question.”
It is. Because if she doesn’t answer me, that would be within her right, but it would also be within my right to fire her ass.
It’s a loss.
Her lips pucker in what I assume is annoyance. “I had to talk to my boss.”
“About?” Yep, I’m an asshole who isn’t going to let this go.
“Nothing. It’s just, there is this gala, and I . . . forget it.” She sighs in frustration. Interesting. The tone of her voice has me softening my own words, curious as to what has her so worked up.
“No, please go on.”
She inhales and then exhales, and while she does, I watch as her chest rises and falls with each breath she takes.
“I have to go to a gala with a client.” The words rush out of her lips so that I almost can’t make them out. Unfortunately for her, I do. Now, I’m pissed again. So much for calm and collected.
“Which client?” I ask through gritted teeth.
She shakes her head back and forth, but I have a feeling I know the answer. It doesn’t matter, I need to hear her say it.
“I can’t talk about my firm’s other clients.”
“Which. Fucking. Client?” I demand. She places her hands on her hips like she’s going to defy me. I stalk toward her. “If you say Felix, so help me.”
“I didn’t have a choice.”
“The fuck you didn’t,” I bark back.
“And why the hell do you care? He was with my law firm first. If anything—”
“Careful. You don’t want to say anything you might regret.” My eyebrow lifts in a challenge.
“This is none of your business, and I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
“Do I need to talk to Williams?”
“Don’t you dare.” She scoffs, her brow furrowing. “This is my job. I can’t burn this bridge. And Seth is the one who is making me do this. I don’t care how damn important you think you are. You’re not. I have to do this. Some people have lives and need to do things they don’t necessarily want to do in order to accomplish their goals.”
I know a thing or two about goals. We are not that different in that respect. I will stop at nothing to have my objectives met, so I understand where she’s coming from. But it’s still not safe to go anywhere but court with that motherfucker. I pivot on my feet and decide to go with another tactic to break through to her.
“You can make your career goals and moves quicker if you play nice with me.”
“Not this time.”
She’s fucking infuriating.
“He’s dangerous, Skye,” I say with a sigh.
“Pot, meet kettle. Didn’t you take me to meet your friend Lorenzo?” She has a point. However, that is neither here nor there.
“It’s different.”
Her expression stills and grows serious. “How so?”
“I was there to protect you,” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
Her large blue eyes look like they might pop out of her skull. “I don’t need protection, goddammit! Not from you. Not from anyone. I can handle anything thrown my way.”
“Don’t I know it,” I mutter under my breath.
“What was that?”
I ignore her and walk back to my chair, pulling it out and taking a seat. What the hell do I do about this shitty-ass situation? I fucking hate Felix. The man most certainly is the reason my dad is dead. He’s been the bane of my existence for as long as I can remember. If it weren’t for him, I never would have gotten into this shit to begin with. But when you plan to dance with the devil, you need money, and this was the fast way to get it.
I want to kill the man, but unlike him, I need confirmation. That’s the one piece that makes me different, and I won’t change that.
“Nothing.”
“You said something. Just spit it out,” she grits out.
“Nope.”
“You drive me crazy.” Her cheeks turn the color of a tomato as they puff out.
“Welcome to the club.”
“Your club isn’t someplace I want to be. You probably stuff drugs in your damn bears,” she spits back.
I cock my head to the side and actually smile.
“Is that what you think?”
She nods. She isn’t far off. Lorenzo—and Matteo, before he retired—used to take my shipment of pills and hide it in stuffed bears, but then I shut that shit down. Never sat well with me, but she doesn’t know that. I can’t wait to see the look on her face when I tell her what the bears are actually for.
“Are you curious about the bears?” I tease. Her eyes narrow. She’s not enjoying this. But I will. “I’ll make sure to take pictures.”
“Pictures?” Her shocked face is comical. She reminds me of a cartoon. I almost expect her pupils to bug out of her face.
“Of the children.” I deliberately talk slow and casual, just to taunt her.
“The children?”
“The children at the center for kids where they are donated at our Christmas in July party that’s a few months away.”
There it is, and I can’t help but feel smug as her head shakes in dismay. She catches herself fast and rights the look.
“And the money?” She quirks a brow.
“Well, that’s exactly for what you think the money buys.” Her mouth drops, and this time, I can’t help but laugh.