How was it possible for him to trigger these reactions from me? It had been decades.
Olfactory memory. At least that’s what Dr. Google had explained to me. Dammit, it was ridiculous that he’d dug in so securely all those years ago that a part of him still lived deep in the primitive recesses of my brain.
“You rang, boss?” He stepped over the threshold, sucking all the air out of the room. “You’re looking particularly ravishing today,” he added, his face a stony mask of indifference.
I glared at him.
Another step closer. “Can I make you dinner tonight?”
“No,” I huffed, tamping down the tiny zing that lit me up inside. “Please stop offering.” He’d been bringing me coffee, offering up lunch and dinner for the past week and it was enraging.
“I’m a decent chef, and it would be a good opportunity to talk. You can tell me your villain origin story.”
With a sigh, I shuffled the papers on my desk. I needed the distraction and an excuse to divert my focus from him. Every single look, word, and gesture from him seemed like a flirtation, even if he never smiled. Innuendo was delivered deadpan and accompanied by a scowl, and it was really throwing me off my game.
Any time I let myself imagine confronting him, I always pictured him ashamed. I always assumed he’d avoid me. Never did I consider that he’d work so hard to invade my space with those damn shoulders and that intoxicating scent and dinner invitations.
“Are you trying to get fired?” I snapped.
“If you can’t stand the sight of me, Dragonfly, then why’d you contractually obligate me to work for you for a year? I could be three thousand miles away right now, but instead I’m here, at your beck and call.”
My stomach lurched. Why did I want him here? My brilliant plan seemed like more of a disaster by the day. My own ego and immaturity had gotten the better of me. I should have let him go away and brought someone else in to run the day-to-day.
“Because it made sense operationally,” I said, lifting my chin primly.
“Did it now?” He grabbed the doorframe above him, the move making his biceps bulge.
God, his arms and chest were thick. And if memory served, he was thick in other places as well. Heat crept into my cheeks and swirled low in my belly. God, no wonder I couldn’t function. His proximity was causing some kind of hormonally-induced psychosis.
“I could see that,” he mused. “It makes sense for operations. But I have another theory. Wanna hear it?”
Pressing my lips together, I narrowed my eyes and remained silent.
“I think it’s one of two reasons. Either you want to climb me like a tree, or you want to punish me.”
My heart leapt into my throat. I was not capable of having this conversation right now.
“So which is it, Dragonfly? Sexual tension or revenge?”
My throat went tight, and my heart pounded in my ears. Why was he pushing me, testing me? Asshole.
Up until a few days ago, I would have said revenge. And as embarrassing as it was to admit, the fantasy was better than the reality.
Because the reality was that every day, I was losing my edge, my anger, and I was feeling more and more confused by his presence.
“Revenge is such a dirty word,” I said. “I’m just a businesswoman.”
He stalked closer, his movements smooth. “Bullshit. Why am I here?”
My motives were impossible to put into words. The ambition and emotions and the decades of pain coming together in the perfect storm? How could I tell him that I took pride in making him stay on because making him watch me take away the one thing he’d ever cared about would be unique, specific torture?
He’d given up everything, including me, for this company. He’d thrown me away for some trees and a business deal. And as embarrassing as it was, I was still bitter over it almost twenty years later. I could feel his arms around me in our tiny, freezing-cold apartment. When I closed my eyes, I could see his broad smile when we exchanged our vows at that tiny chapel in Quebec. The memories of our short time together haunted me, and I wanted to vanquish them by making him hurt too.
Obviously, there was no way I could tell him that. So I just had to keep my cool.
And if I was being honest, he was more than qualified to run the whole place while I made my changes and got things back up and running. Yes. That was totally the reason I’d kept him on. I would not be pressured to show my hand.
“Because you’d give up anything for your family’s business.” I raised one eyebrow in challenge.
He didn’t flinch. Instead, he shook his head slowly and murmured, “Not true.”
Those two small words stung. Because he’d given up his marriage, his wife. Did he really have priorities he held above the covenant we’d made?
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “I’m glad you’ve evolved. Even so, we both know there was a time when that was true.” The words hung between us for the space of a few heartbeats.
He crossed his arms. “So you’re punishing me.”
I shrugged.
“Joke’s on you.” He laughed, the sound low and soft. “Seeing your gorgeous face every day is the furthest thing from punishment.”
Hands splayed on my desk, I scowled at him. “Just behave, and I’ll be out of here in a few months.”
A sexy grin spread slowly across his face, the sight of it unnerving. “You know I can never behave, especially around you.”
That deep tone of his made my legs shake and the warmth in my core ignite.
“The FBI will be here next week, along with that team of high-priced Boston lawyers you’ve got working for you. You’ve got a ton of work to do, and I’m here to help every step of the way. But first, I need you to tell me the truth.”
