Instead of exposing him, I’d just made him think I was a klutz.
I wiped up the water, returned the towels to the bar, and grabbed two bottles of water to drink instead.
Okay, fine. If Declan wasn’t going to fall for the spilled water trick, I’d find something else. There were a million things to drop or trip on around here. Eventually, he’d make a mistake. Then I’d catch him and I’d have something to hold over him.
Something that would make him tell me what I wanted to know.
I glanced over my shoulder as my conscience said, You could just ask him.
I snorted. Yeah right. If he’d been the one to cause the accident my father was in to keep his secret, he wasn’t likely to tell me anything I needed to know.
When I glanced back again, Declan was right behind me.
I gasped and jerked around, slapping a hand to my chest and nearly dislodging the pin. “God, you scared me.”
And I hadn’t even got it on camera. My eyes narrowed, and I swore I saw him smile just slightly. He’d changed into an outfit almost exactly like what he’d been wearing before, making me wonder how many spares he had in the bathroom back there.
“My apologies,” Declan said. “Ready to work?”
“Always,” I mumbled, and sat with him at the table once again, resolved to find a new way to catch him in the act.
Chapter 11
If I had to grade Samantha on her performance today, I’d give her a solid C+. I mean, she was putting in the effort, but she just wasn’t closing the deal.
I made sure to face Declan as much as I could to catch every single movement. But dammit, he just wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary.
The only thing I was succeeding in doing was making it clear what a fine specimen of a man he was.
He moved like a predator, precise and almost practiced but natural enough, graceful enough, it seemed normal.
Every inch of his body was chiseled. That was easy enough to see even with him fully clothed. I could see the curve of muscle every time he reached for something, every time he lifted his arm to drink water. His abs were washboard flat beneath his suit, thighs powerful and made for hiking.
This man must be magnificent making his way up those advanced trails I’d gone on just last summer. He probably ran up them and barely broke a sweat.
Regardless, every time I tried to drop something or even break something, he was either there before I had the chance, or reacted like any normal human being.
Enough so that I was about to give up. With a sigh, I stood and pointed to the bar.
“I need more water.”
I didn’t ask him if he wanted anything. This wasn’t a ploy; I was just getting tired. I couldn’t focus on the project or what he was saying because I was too busy trying to catch him in the act.
The moment I lifted the pitcher, Declan was at my side. I jerked back in surprise and the pitcher dinged against the counter, knocking it from my hand.
It shattered on the floor a moment later.
This time, my surprise and mortification was real. “I’m so sorry.” I crouched to clean up my mess. “I didn’t mean—”
Declan gripped my arm, hauling me up with barely veiled strength. His hand was like steel around my arm. “Leave it,” he snapped.
“But—but, it really was an accident.” This time.
A muscle moved in his jaw, and he released me to rub his hand on his forehead. It made me feel like a little kid that just wouldn’t stop bothering her father when he was trying to get his work done.
“Just…” Declan gestured to the table. “Sit down.”
Guilt swamped me as I sat. It truly had been an accident. But despite that, I’d been fucking things up all day. And those were on purpose.
Declan looked to be at his limit.
He snagged several bottles of water out of the refrigerator and walked to me with long, purposeful strides. He set the bottles on the table with a loud thud.
“Here. Here’s all the water you should need for the next several hours. I have something I need to do. I’ll send Tim in with a task.”
Then he turned abruptly, grabbed a tablet off his desk, and strode from the room.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, feeling miserable, and read the text from Xander.
Man, he’s pissed.
I typed back, What an astute assessment, you asshole.
I swore I could hear his laughter.
He is as slow as molasses in January, Xander wrote. Definitely not The Flash. Batman, though…
I was about ready to tell him where he could shove it and take off the bumblebee pin when Tim came through the door.
He smiled at me, glanced at the three bottles of water sitting right in front of me, and then sat at the table.
“Hey, thanks for offering to help,” he said. “I’m swamped today.”
I bit my lip. I definitely had not offered to help, but it was nice that Declan had phrased it that way to Tim.
“So,” he said, setting down a stack of papers. “We have all sorts of physical and digital correspondence.” He pointed to his computer screen where I saw dozens of emails addressed to a main Dark Enterprises address. “I need to finish sorting through and then direct people to the right places and…”
He went on, outlining the general idea. And yes, here it was. The menial task I’d been waiting for. What Dark probably should have hired me for in the first place.
But who knew what went on inside that man’s head. One minute he
