With that thought pulsing like armor beneath her skin, she walked across the room and tucked her soggy purse into her desk drawer.She locked it, turned—
—and jumped.
Saif was standing there.
Right beside her desk.
She stepped back, hand flying to her chest.“Where didyoucome from?”
“I’ve been here since seven,” he said coldly.“The exact time I told you to be here.”
Jemma forced herself upright, spine stiffening.She wouldn’t shrink—not today.
“And I told you last night,” she said, voice calm, chin lifted, “that I start at eight thirty.”
He studied her for a moment.Then, slowly, a familiar grin curved his lips.
That slow, dangerous grin she used to love.The one that hinted at mischief and dark intentions.
Her pulse skipped.Her toes curled involuntarily.And the worst part?He knew it.His eyes swept over her—casual but thorough.
“We’ll figure things out as the day progresses,” he said smoothly.
Then he turned toward Mark’s door.
“Who works in there?”
“That’s Mark Sinstack’s office,” she replied, folding her hands tightly in front of her.
He glanced at his watch again, then at her.“Where the hell is he?”Saif’s voice sharpened.“The factory he contracted two weeks ago just sent notice they can’t meet the quota.He should be here—on the phone with other vendors, fixing the damn problem.”
Jemma’s lips pressed together.There were a dozen things shecouldsay.She could explain that Mark had contracted with a known exploitative factory.That he might be blackmailed, or worse.That he strolled in most days between ten and noon, depending on how hungover he was.
But telling Saif any of that would be career suicide.Mark would fire her without any hesitation if she told Saif about his drinking problem or the lax schedule the boss allowed himself.
Mark had a long memory and a mean streak, so she said nothing.
Saif’s eyes narrowed.“You’re not going to tell me.”
“Nope,” she replied curtly, meeting his gaze without blinking.
He watched her for another moment, but Jemma kept silent.Finally, Saif nodded.“Fine,” he muttered.“Let’s go inside and figure it out ourselves.”
Jemma’s heart kicked into high gear.
No.Absolutely not.
She darted between him and the door, arms spreading slightly—not a physical block, but close.
“Why don’t I take you on a tour of the other departments first?”she offered quickly.“You can meet the leads, get a feel for the rest of the team.”
She needed to stall.Needed Mark to walk through that door before Saif found something that would ignite a fire she wouldn’t be able to contain.
Saif didn’t move.His gaze sharpened into something clinical.Calculating.
“You’re protecting Mark.”
It wasn’t a question.
