A flicker of something crosses his face before he masks it. “Alright,” he says, his voice all business again. “Call if you need anything.”
And then he’s gone.
The sound of the main door closing behind him echoes in the suddenly vast, quiet penthouse.
And then it’s just me and Dane. Alone.
He hasn’t moved, still leaning against the counter, his empty plate beside him. The silence stretches, but now it’s charged with a new awareness. He’s so... big. So still. It’s an entirely different kind of intimidation than Rett’s authority.
I clear my throat, needing to break the silence. “So,” I say, aiming for casual and missing by a mile. “Security contacts, huh? Sounds... important.”
He finally looks at me, and his pale, ice-blue eyes are so direct, so focused, it feels like he can see right through me. “It is,” he says simply.
He pushes off the counter. “I’ll be in the east wing office if you need anything.” He starts to walk away, then pauses, looking back at me over his shoulder.
“The case files are... extensive,” he says, a hint of something I can’t quite decipher in his voice. “Another set of eyes might be useful. If you get bored with reading.”
He disappears down the hallway before I can respond, leaving me alone in the kitchen with my half-eaten pancakes and a head full of questions.
Was that... an invitation? From Dane?
I trace the rim of Rett’s mug with my finger, thinking about what Dane had said. An experiment. What was he testing? And more importantly, what did he learn?
The thought of spending the day with the quiet, intense alpha who seems to see everything... it’s not terrifying. Not exactly.
A slow, dangerous thrill snakes its way up my spine.
What the hell am I going to wear?
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Dane
She’s coming. I can hear her footsteps down the hall, the subtle change in the air as her cherry blossom fragrance precedes her. Her steps are hesitant, pausing occasionally like she’s second-guessing herself.
I don’t look up from the evidence board I’ve created on the wall of the east wing office. Weeks of investigation data mapped out in a web of red string, photos, and handwritten notes. I’ve been staring at it for hours, looking for the connection I know is there but can’t quite see.
The footsteps stop outside the door. There’s a soft intake of breath, then a light knock.
“Come in,” I say, still not turning around.
The door opens, and Zoe’s scent fills the room, a breath of fresh air in the stale confines of my temporary command center. I can feel her presence at my back, a warmth that seems to radiate even from several feet away.
“Wow,” she says softly.
Now I turn. She’s standing in the doorway, wearing a simple blue sundress that makes her look so soft. Her hair is pulled backin those little ponytails she likes to wear, a few strands escaping to frame her face.
Beautiful. The thought comes without input, and I don’t bother to push it away.
“Got bored with reading?” I ask instead.
She smiles, a small, hesitant thing that does strange things to my chest. “Something like that.” She steps fully into the room, her eyes widening as she takes in the full scope of my investigation. “This is... intense.”
I just nod. I’ve never been good with words. The fact that her presence is making my head clearer rather than foggier is both a relief and a distraction of its own kind.
“You said you could use another set of eyes?” she prompts when I don’t elaborate.
I nod again, gesturing to the board. “There’s a connection I’m missing.”
