“I should have waited until morning, made an official appointment in my office,” she said, gazing at the window.
“Why didn’t you?” He’d turned her presence over in his mind, exploring all the angles for why she might be here, but nothing made sense. Before arriving in Seattle, he’d been given a dossier on Portia Tremaine, compiled by the Solveig Consortium’s intelligence division. The woman in that report wouldn’t have just shown up here.
In all honesty, she also wouldn’t have come back to his hotel room last night. Either intelligence had gotten it wrong, or Portia Tremaine had hidden depths. Aleks was sure it was the latter.
Portia fiddled with her water bottle. “I was in the neighborhood.”
He huffed out a disbelieving laugh.
She groaned and light pink tinged her cheeks. “That sounds so cliché, I know. But it’s true.”
He grinned at her. “Your run took you by my hotel?”
“Yes. I know it sounds crazy. I just... run. Wherever the mood takes me.” She shot him a smile that lit up the room. “I like to see my city from the ground.”
“Instead of from up high?” he asked to show that he listened to her. That helikedlistening to her. Portia was...soothingwasn’t the right word... but she settled his brain since it was completely, 100 percent focused on her.
“Exactly.”
“At night?”
She frowned. He replayed his words and realized they sounded judgy. “I mean, there’s not much to see in the dark, is there?”
“Are you kidding? It’s—pardon another cliché—night and day. During the day, it’s all business. But at night, when the buildings are illuminated, it’s a beautiful nighttime rainbow. Energetic and pulsing with life. Didn’t you notice it last night?”
Aleks canted his head and thought back over the previous evening. He’d been so focused on getting his glimpse of Portia Tremaine, he hadn’t paid much attention to the city. “No, sorry.” He meant it—he was sorry that he hadn’t seen Seattle the way she did.
She shook her head. “You should pay more attention,” she admonished gently. “Seattle has different faces in the sun and the rain, too.”
“And that’s important?”
She tilted her head to study him. Aleks fought the urge to fidget under her gaze. Which was ridiculous. The woman had seen—touched—his naked body. But now she studied him as though she would strip him bare.
“You’ve never studied your city? Stockholm?”
He shook his head, reluctant to interrupt this decidedly romantic perspective from the woman that the newsies—and everyone else—called the Ice Queen.
“In the sun, Seattle shows off her finery, the sparkling blue jewels of Puget Sound. In the rain and fog, she’s moody and mysterious.”
“That’s beautiful.” Aleks hadn’t expected that level of poetry from her.
Portia flushed and for a moment it reminded him of when she’d been wrapped in his arms, their bodies entwined.
He crossed his legs to hide the sudden redirection of blood and changed the subject. “Tell me more about your meeting with your sister.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew it was too abrupt a change. The room’s energy changed. Their friendly, flirty camaraderie was buried under the new business-like atmosphere.
Dammit, Aleks.
Portia’s lips pinched together. “She and Killian St. John came to my office this afternoon.”
Left unspoken was the timing: the same day as their meeting. He hadn’t expected that.
“What did she say about our offer?”
“Ouroffer?” Her arch tone wasn’t the turnoff she likely intended. Instead, that prissy, pissy voice heated his blood, just the way it had last night at the bar.
But if she wanted to spar, he’d spar. Aleks nodded. “The Consortium’s offer, then.”
