Declan stood in the doorway, his face unreadable.
“You’re still here,” he said, voice rough.
I tried to infuse cheerfulness into my voice. “Just getting ready to leave.”
He ventured a few controlled steps into the room. “You were off at five.”
I frowned. Well, it wasn’t like I was milking him for his money. I was just finishing my job.
I jerked my jacket off the chair and tried to keep my voice neutral. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to pay me for it. I was just trying to finish something so it didn’t carry over until next week.”
I put my jacket over my arm and snagged my purse off the table.
“Right. Tim told me,” Declan said, putting his hands in his pockets and lowering his chin so he was staring at his shoes. “He said you did every single task he gave you and caught him up on over a week of work.”
I sighed. “It’s my job.”
Declan looked up, a smile quirking the corner of his mouth though there was little humor in it. In fact, he just looked…stressed. Worn out. His jaw was lined with stubble, making it look like he hadn’t slept in days.
But his eyes were still sharp.
“Your job,” he repeated, moving a few steps closer. “Not exactly. And neither was the project.” He pointed to the folder I’d put together on the table. “I looked at it last night.”
I opened my mouth, surprised. Then angry. “I didn’t know it was off-limits—”
“I didn’t say that.”
I rubbed a hand on my cheek with another sigh. “You wanted my opinion before. I had some ideas. I wrote them down. I won’t make that mistake again. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get home.”
I strode across the room, having to pass close enough to him to get to the door that I could smell his cologne. He smelled of cedar and secrets, of hikes in the woods and nights by a warm fire.
I reached out to grab the handle, but suddenly his hand was over mine. The strength in his fingers surprised me, but the press of his body against my back shocked me even more.
His breath touched my cheek when he spoke again. “Don’t go yet. I’d like to talk.”
Chapter 13
My breath eased out in a quiet hiss as my heart pounded out of control. Heat emanated from his body, encasing me in a bubble of warmth.
My mind blanked. The only thing I could think of was how good it felt to have him this close. And the rest was all sensation. My hand tingled under his, thighs quivered when his breath touched my neck, and all the while, warmth pooled between my legs and fueled a devastating ache for him.
I turned around slowly. Instead of stepping back, Declan kept his position directly in front of me, making it necessary to tilt my chin to see his eyes. They were the shade of the warmest ocean, shadowed under storm clouds.
Seemingly against my will, my gaze dropped to his lips. They parted just slightly, and it nearly killed me.
He’d said he wanted to talk, but right now it looked like talking was the last thing on his mind.
He cupped his fingers behind my neck and used his thumb to brush my cheekbone before sliding it across my bottom lip. My body trembled.
“I think…” Declan said, his voice as smooth as velvet, “…an understanding might help this situation.”
“What kind of understanding?” I breathed.
His jaw clenched. His eyes flicked to mine and then dropped to my mouth, hunger flashing in their depths.
Then he moved in, mouth locking on mine. He used his thumb to tip my chin up, giving him better access to my mouth.
My brain short-circuited. I should have been asking myself what the hell was going on, or even stopping him, but instead, I got lost in the moment.
I dropped my jacket and purse, barely registering when it hit the floor next to me, so I could place my hands on his chest. Under the layers of clothes that separated us, I felt planes of muscle that jumped beneath my hands as he lifted his free hand to prop on the door next to my head.
It kept his body inches from touching me all the way down, teasing me in a way I’d never felt before.
His tongue plundered, driving deep inside my mouth and making me moan softly. He responded by tracing his finger down my jaw to my neck and then trailing it the length of my arm.
I shivered and my hands clenched tight on the material of his expensive jacket.
“Samantha,” he murmured.
It was the first time he’d said my name—no, my fake name. And suddenly my brain kicked on. He had no idea who I was. And I was filming him.
My heart lurched when I remembered the bumblebee camera. Then relief flooded me when I remembered that it was on my jacket, which was in a heap next to us on the floor.
When I straightened, my body going stiff against the door, Declan’s hand tightened on my arm. His eyes locked on mine, the irises dilated.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s—it’s…” I fumbled for the right words. I didn’t want him to stop, didn’t want to be tethered to this game I’d gotten myself into, but I was here for a reason. And there were cameras. And I couldn’t think straight with his hands and mouth on me.
“Was that the kind of understanding you were looking for?” I asked.
To my relief, he took a step back. He straightened his jacket and absently reached up to smooth his tie.
His eyes were still cloudy with desire, as mine must be as well. It was a turn-on for sure, but my brain wouldn’t let me go
