“We’ll get right on it, sir,” Brooke assures him.
Connor flashes her a wolfish grin. Does he reflexively flirt with every woman?
Then his eyes spear me again, pinning me in place. “Lexi, stay back. I need a word.”
My pulse kicks wildly. Spoke too soon. The beast still wants a bite.
The senator stands, puffing out his chest. “Any meetings need me there.” His gut peeks out, trousers riding low.
Connor’s not having any of it, though. His eyes flash dangerously. “With respect, Senator, I don’t answer to you. I’ll do what it takes to restore your daughter’s reputation, but you don’t dictate my actions.”
Testosterone thickens the air, the older man spluttering while Connor remains unmoved. An unstoppable asshole meets an immovable dick.
“Now see here—”
“Enough.” Connor’s arctic tone brokers no room for argument. “This discussion is over. Lexi, stay behind.”
Vicky’s voice is barely a whisper. “Should I stay too?” I’ve never heard her so meek before.
“No one else is required,” Connor states with finality.
The room seems to shrink away from him in fear.
My mouth goes bone dry as his eyes fix on me. The trapped little mouse under the predator’s glare.
TWELVE
Connor
“Dad, let’s give them some privacy, shall we?” Willow guides her father out, shooting me a sweet smile.
“Appreciate it, Willow,” I say, my gratitude genuine.
Vicky and Brooke look ready to piss themselves as I shut the door, leaving me alone with Little Miss Thief. She’s clearly not trotted out for major clients often.
“Sit.”
She bristles. “I’m not a dog.”
“No, you’re more of a sneaky little honey badger stealing what isn’t yours.”
Panic flashes in those expressive eyes before she quickly masks it. “I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I think you do. Sit down.”
Reluctantly, she perches on the edge of her chair, laptop balanced precariously on her lap.
I position myself between her and any possible escape route, casually leaning against the table.
Is this all part of some setup? The car, the leaked audio, her sudden appearance on Willow’s team . . . What the hell is really going on here? Is one of our competitors trying to screw me over in some elaborate scheme?
“Aren’t you going to sit?” she asks, trying to sound brave, but I can hear the fear in her voice.
My gaze travels over her slowly, deliberately. Savoring each flicker of discomfort in those doe-like eyes.
No, she clearly had no idea the man she hustled would be staring her down now. If I weren’t so enraged by the audacity, I’d be laughing. My security team couldn’t track her down, yet here she is, delivered right into my lap like a pretty gift begging to be unwrapped.
There’s a twisted kind of pleasure in seeing her again.
