“Very nice,” she says, gesturing to it.
“Thank you.”
She studies it with a critical eye and then smiles.
“Very nice,” she repeats and sits back down. Her scent has started to fill the room and drift over to me. I’d love to open a window to clear the air, but I don’t move.
“Can I get you anything?” I ask and she shakes her head.
“Are you sure? You must have come here for something.” That makes her smile again and put up her hands, as if she’s surrendering.
“Fine, I had ulterior motives coming to see you. I just… I didn’t want us to do that thing where you wait for three days to call me and I wait around and all that.” I laugh a little, imagining her sitting next to a phone and waiting for me to call.
“You don’t strike me as a woman who would follow those kinds of unwritten rules.” I lean back against my desk and she shifts, uncrossing her ankles and leaning back in the chair. That’s better. More her.
“I’m not usually. Which is how I ended up here.” She laughs a little breathlessly. She’s nervous. I like that. It makes me want to throw her on top of my desk and fuck her all over again. I bet that material of her shirt would tear quite easily. I trace her body with my eyes. I’d gotten to touch her curves last night, but I want to see them. I want to know if she has other hidden freckles. I definitely want to taste her. And then I want to see her come completely undone.
“I think there’s something you want, Quinn,” she says and my eyes travel upwards to meet hers. Her body is something else, but those eyes. I’ve never seen eyes like hers.
“I should think it’s obvious that I want you, Saige. And if you say the word, I’d fuck you right on this desk. With my secretary right outside. She’ll hear everything and know exactly what I’m doing. But don’t worry, she’s discreet,” I say.
She doesn’t even blush. Just looks back at me like she’s daring me to do it. Then she heaves a little sigh and gets to her feet. She stalks toward me and I’m pinned by her gaze, like a butterfly in a frame. I don’t like it. I know she can see how hard I am. Laughing ever so softly to herself, she drags one finger up and down my chest, along my tie. Her eyelashes flutter and she looks up at me through them.
And then she steps back and starts to walk toward the door, tossing her hair over her shoulder.
“Well, I’m sure you’re really busy and have a lot on your hands. I should get going.” Her hand is on the doorknob when I spring into action. I grab her by the shoulder and whip her around so she’s facing me.
“Don’t mess with me, Saige Beaumont. You don’t know what you’re dealing with.” I don’t mean to be this honest, but she has no idea what I’m talking about anyway. Her breath hitches and color fills her cheeks. Finally. I’ve gotten an involuntary reaction out of her. We stare at each other for a moment, as if we’re locked together and neither of us can move.
And then I find the will to take a step back and let go of her. Shit. Did I just ruin it? But she doesn’t run away. Instead she just turns the doorknob and waves.
“Call me. As soon as possible.” The door shuts and I want to dunk my head in a frozen lake. I pace around my office and pour myself a glass of ice water. I need to cool down. What is it about her that gets me so fired up? I don’t understand it. She doesn’t even have to do anything and I’m ready to yell at her or fuck her or yell at her before I fuck her.
I should call Cash and tell him I need out. I should back away from this assignment. But even as I walk to my desk to get out the burner phone, I know I can’t. I’m stubborn. Once I start something, I need to finish it. And I will finish it. I will take down her father. She’s just part of the process. A very enjoyable, confusing, frustrating part.
I call her as soon as I get home from work. It feels strange talking to her on the phone while I’m in my apartment. Almost as if she can see me and know what I’m doing and what I’m up to.
Saige will never come here.
“Hello?” she says, her voice low and sweet. She knows it’s me.
“Hello, Saige Beaumont. You told me to call you, so here I am, holding up my end of the bargain.” I lean back in the cracked leather recliner and sip a cold beer. I think I’m going to enjoy this. It’s easier to think on my feet when she’s not standing in front of me and messing with my mind.
“Well, I like that you follow through. That’s good to know about you.”
“I always follow through.” As evidenced by last night. She still hasn’t mentioned it and I’m beginning to wonder why. Is she embarrassed? Did I push her too far? Or is she waiting for me?
“I like that in a man. So many say they’re going to do something and never execute.” Good, it sounds like I’m earning her trust.
“My middle name is Reliable,” I say, making a joke.
“What is your middle name? Your real one?”
“I don’t have one. Just Quinn Brand.” Another lie. My middle name is Hudson, after my mother’s father. “And what’s your middle name?” I know it, but I have to ask anyway.
“Juliette. With two Ts and an E at the end. Not like the girl from the Shakespeare play.” I say her name in my mind, even though I’ve known it for a while. Somehow it suits her.
“So, what did you get up to after I left your office?” I’m not going to tell her the truth, that I was so hard I had to get myself off before I could get any work done.
“Oh, this and that. Money. Numbers. Boring math.” She chuckles, as if she knows I’m lying.
“I’m sure it was a terribly dull afternoon.”
“It was. And you?”
“Class.”
“Which ones?” I have her schedule memorized, but I don’t know much about the content. What she actually does.
“Well, I had drawing, which I hate. I signed up for it because I figured you can’t understand art until you know how to create it, so there you are. We had a nude model.”
“Male or female?” I can’t stop myself from asking.
She giggles, and it’s a sound I haven’t heard before. Adorable. Flirtatious. Young.
“Why do you want to know? Would it make you jealous to know that I was drawing a naked man?” No. Yes. No. Definitely not. She’s an assignment, nothing more. Jealousy isn’t part of the equation. But I can play it up for her.
“Maybe. Seeing as how last night I was the one with my cock inside you.” I take another sip of beer as I wait for her response.
“Well, I wanted to see if you were a man of your word. Nothing more than that. By the way, it was a female model.”
“You didn’t want me? Well, you should have said so.”
That makes her laugh.
“I can’t deny I enjoyed it. My dress, however, did not. It’s quite shredded and I don’t know how I’m ever going to explain how it got that way.”
“I’ll buy you a new one. It is my fault it’s ruined.”
“No, don’t worry about it. Next time I’ll wear something more durable.”
“Next time?”
“Next time,” she says with finality.
“What are you doing right now?” I ask. I just saw her last night. And today. But things are moving fast and I have to stay ahead of the game.
“Nothing. Just homework. Do you want to know what I’m wearing?” She dips her voice low, seductive.
“Maybe. Tell me.” There’s rustling, as if she’s shifting and I have an image of her lying in bed with a book in one hand, her hair loose and spread across the pillow.
“Should I tell you the truth or lie?”
“Tell me one and I’ll decide if it’s the truth or a lie.”
“I like that idea. Let’s see, I’m wearing a faded blue t-shirt that I got one summer when I was a camp counselor. It’s so thin that you can see right through it, but I can’t bring myself to throw it out.”
“And under it?”
“Nothing.” I close my eyes and I can see it. I was wrong about not having her here giving me a clear mind. Even imagining her is enough to muddle my thoughts.