“… you know Zane,” Finn whispers.
“I follow him on social media,” I say easily.
What I know about Zane isnoton his social media accounts. Not even Zane Cross would get away with it if the world at large knew his filthy deeds. Especially the ones involving Grace Jamieson.
I know he had an accidental one-night stand with her. I know she pushed him off after she found out he was her student, and he kept chasing her, cornering her in empty classrooms, making her groan in the stillness when he thought no one was around.
And then he married her because it wasn’t enough to have a forbidden relationship. He needed to make it a forbidden marriage too.
“And me.” Finn’s voice is barely above a whisper. “You know me.”
Yes, I know Finn.
I know what he wants.
I knowwhohe wants.
And I can’t let him have it. At least, not until I get whatIwant first.
So I blink innocently as his brown eyes consume me. More than that. They’re taking me apart. He’s trying to figure me out. I can hear his brain whirring behind that beautiful, expressionless face.
I’m not surprised he put the dots together so quickly. Someone who was able to crack my near impenetrable firewall would pay attention to the details.
“Why did you bring me to your room?” Finn asks, eyes sharper than a blade.
His tone is frosty now that he thinks I’m a fan. It’s in line with what I know of him. Finn Cross has no interest in all the bounties that come with fame—the gifts, the accolades, the women. Especially the women. He has the least romantic scandals recorded in the app.
“It was faster than putting you on an elevator back to the emergency room,” I answer.
He folds his arms over his chest, his jaw tight.
I continue to massage my wrist. “You do realize you have a concussion, don’t you? You shouldn’t have been standing in the first place.”
He winces. Then he shakes his head. “Are you insinuating yousavedme?”
“The doctors saved you. I just let you use my suite.”
He notices that I’m still massaging my arm. “Did I hurt you?”
I look down at the bruises and then at my watch. With a deep breath, I take two big steps, grab him by the collar, and plant my mouth on his.
Finn is such a stern, hard person, so I expect his mouth to be as unbending as he is. But his lips are softer than expected.
I release him and then run my arm over my mouth, scrubbing. “Blegh.”
“The hell is wrong with you?” He covers his mouth with a hand, looking outraged.
“You manhandle me. I manhandle you. Now we’re even.” I finish rubbing the taste of him off my lips and check my watch again.
No beeping this time.
That’s more like it.
“You’re insane.”
Breezily, I walk to my desk and take a seat. “You think so? I always wondered if I should get diagnosed. The psych ward isright there.It would be so easy to see someone.”
I’m not looking behind me, but I canfeelthe horror from Finn like nuclear waves after a bomb explosion. A moment later, I hear him shuffling around.
