I don’t like sweets.
But I likeher.
“That sounds like a big deal.”
Sienna shrugs. “You’re honest. And, if this is going to work, I need that.”
Geezus.
She’s handing me a vote of confidence like it’s a weapon or a lifeline. Either way, I don’t want it, and I do.
“Whatever you need, princess. What time do you need me?”
“Whenever…seven?”
My thumb brushes her cheek once more, unnecessary and selfish, then across the corner of her soft lips before I let my hand drop. “Whenever or seven?”
Her gaze falls to my lips, and my cock stirs traitorously in my slacks. “Seven…if that works.”
“I’ll be there.” Her focus comes up to me, breaking whatever temporary spell she had on my mouth when I add, “No solo deliveries to government offices without a man.”
“I got it.”
“If anything looks off at all, if someone’s watching you, if deliveries don’t go where they should, you come straight here. Not to your grandmother, not to Lucy.Here.”
“I said I got it. I’ll play the pawn.”
I want to tell her a hundred things. That she’s not, that she already is, that I’ll never let anyone hurt her, then immediately add the list of ways I’ll use her to secure my world.
The truth is dirty and complicated. I have no intention of polishing it for her.
Instead, I say, “You’re not a pawn.” My voice is softer than it should be, and I almost hate that she hears it. “You’re a choice I made.”
She studies me for a fraction of a second. The kind of look that feels like a question and an indictment at once, and then like a small, stubborn flag, she gathers her things.
“Tomorrow,” she reminds.
“Tomorrow.”
She rises from the chair and turns to leave, but I reach out before she’s completely clear of the room. My hand finds the back of her neck in a touch that’s mine and possessive and not meant to be sweet.
“Behave,” I say, but there’s no real threat behind it today.
Just a promise.
Or a plea.
She only gives me that look—equal parts disdain, like she can’t stand my ass, and something like amusement that I’m being completely overprotective here—and then she walks out.
The door clicks, and my office is suddenly too quiet. I let out a long, slow breath and return to the thing I do best—plan, wait, and ensure nothing and no one undoes what I’ve built.
Arlo will call about Nikolai soon. The city will keep spinning. The bakery will have everything Sienna wants and needs, and somewhere in the middle of it, I’ll taste sugar for the first time in years—for her—and decide if this thing we’ve negotiated is worth letting everything else burn.
17
Benedikt
I thought seven would be simple.
