“No more until after we eat,” I told him. “The food’s getting cold.”
“After a conversation that hot, you’d think you’d want something to cool you down,” Xander quipped.
I pressed my hands over my heated cheeks. “I swear, I’m either going to kill him or you before this is over.”
Xander brought the salad to the table with a nod. “Homicidal tendencies. He’s already getting to you.”
I had to laugh. I needed it. The last several weeks had been rough with all that was going on with my dad. Without Xander, I had no clue how I would have made it through.
Because of that, I was willing to let him tease me a little about Declan Dark and having the hots for him.
But there was no way in hell I was going to admit it was actually true.
As I’d mentioned before, some things just didn’t need to be said out loud.
Chapter 7
It was hard not to feel self-conscious as I stepped out of the Uber that morning in what was essentially my hiking gear. I wore dark jeans, layers with a jacket because the cool fog was still hanging around, and snug boots that had seen me up and down countless trails, on mountains well over 14,000 feet and simple rocky terrain. I had my ballcap stuffed in my backpack, the one my dad gave me last summer when we’d gone camping.
Normally, I’d feel right at home. But not with people walking around me wearing sharp business suits, shiny shoes, and moving with purpose.
“You’re blocking traffic,” a deep voice said in my ear, then a strong hand gripped my elbow and pulled me closer to the building.
In a quick second, I stood facing a man dressed similarly to me. No, not just a man. Declan Dark.
Had he been standing there the whole time?
Of course, I’d been looking for a man in a business suit, not jeans.
The outfit alone made him look more rugged, like he belonged on the cover of a magazine. A magazine that clearly only featured the sexiest people on it. His dark jeans fit like a glove and his tight Henley made my throat dry, molding to the dips and curves of muscles underneath.
“I didn’t see you,” I told him, blinking up into sapphire eyes.
He stood close enough I could see the flecks of yellow around his irises, close enough I couldn’t quite get in a full breath. Close enough to make me want to reach out and run my fingers on that strong jaw.
I tucked my hands in my pockets.
Declan stepped back and looked down. “It’s that good of a transformation?”
Hell, yes. And it was turning me on just as much as those suits he wore like a second skin.
“You’re wearing jeans,” I pointed out.
“I own jeans.” The defense in his voice made me smile.
“And a…” I gestured to his head.
“It’s called a ballcap—”
“I know what it’s called,” I grumbled, realizing my—no, Samantha’s—voice sounded a little higher than normal. Like…flirty.
There had to be a rule against that. If not, I was making the rule right now: No flirting with the boss.
No letting down my guard around the boss.
No looking at the boss’s…assets.
“I’m still a normal guy, Miss Thompson,” Declan said, his voice so low and soft I swore my body automatically leaned closer to his to hear.
My fake name on his tongue and the sudden vulnerability in his voice made my eyes go to his. There was a storm churning in their depths.
I swallowed hard and tried to remind myself it was actually just secrets. His serious exterior was the façade. He was covering things up. It was my job to crack that shell, but I was afraid I’d find answers that I didn’t want to find.
My fingers fumbled on my jacket and I pretended to suddenly need to zip it against the cold to break away from the intensity of his stare. The hum of electricity that seemed to be building around us.
“Are we leaving from here?” I asked.
There was a long enough pause, I looked up again. But he let whatever he was going to say go and jerked his chin toward the street. “Our car is here.”
“I—it’s just us?” I asked, the panic in my voice unmistakable.
His expression didn’t change, just a soft quirk to the corner of his lips that told me he was aware I was nervous.
It wasn’t because I was scared of him. It was because I was scared of what I was capable of around him. Okay, so I was a little scared of him.
No one was that controlled, that…composed all the time.
I wondered what it would take to break that composure—and how devastating that result would be.
“No.” Declan gestured to our right. “We’ve got my lawyer, Holmes, and the driver—he’s also security.” He pointed in the opposite direction. “Parker and Davis—also security—and my executive assistant, Tim.”
“Oh,” I said under my breath, equally relieved and disappointed.
I did notice that none of them was wearing casual clothes like us. And I was betting, under those fancy suits, some of them had guns.
Tim looked closer to my age though—or Samantha’s. He stepped up to us and passed me a piece of paper.
“It’s a pain, I know,” he said with a smile, “but we’ll need it for your records. So you can get paid and all that.”
My stomach jumped, but I took the paper calmly. I was prepared for this. All except for the address. What was I supposed to do about that?
“I’ll make sure I bring it in for you tomorrow,” I told Tim with a smile.
“Let’s go,” Declan said when the driver pulled open the back door.
Instead of waiting to get into our car,
