Hannah fiddled with the napkin in her lap, smoothing it and folding it and smoothing it again. “I may have been overly dramatic about it. He’s no worse than any other CEO, I’m sure.”
She didn’t want to talk about her boss. I picked up on that quickly. I sympathized, understanding all too well about shitty bosses.
“So you used to be a hardcore techie. Do you miss it?” she asked, deftly changing the subject.
“Sometimes. It was a lot easier when I only had to write some code and deploy it. Though you don’t get the adrenaline high from building an app that categorizes company email, that’s for sure.” I hadn’t been lying when I told Hannah I was a tech dork. There were times I missed the simplicity of my old job. There wasn’t a whole lot of time for programming now that my life was consumed with all things FBI. I still read trade magazines and kept current on trends and new technologies. I had to in order to keep up with the ever-evolving world of hacker technology and security.
“I’m sure being an FBI agent is a hell of a lot better than your standard nine-to-five. I’m jealous.” She took a bite of steak, taking her time chewing, watching me the entire time. The restaurant was busy, but I felt as if we were the only ones there. Hannah had a way of making me feel like the only man in the room. It was heady and powerful. It catered to my masculine need for control and domination.
Damn, she knew exactly what to do to get me going.
“What about your boss? What’s he or she like?”
She was careful in her questions. I liked that she didn’t pry overtly. That she was considerate of the limitations in the things I could share. Her queries were still probing, but in a way that didn’t send up red flags. She was simply curious about the man she was on a date with.
“He’s kind of a prick, actually. So it seems that’s something else we have in common.” I took a drink of my beer. “I’m pretty sure he has it in for me.”
Hannah drank deeply from her glass of wine. She was on her second glass and her cheeks were rosy from the alcohol, her eyes bright. It was clear that she wasn’t used to drinking.
“Why do you think he has it in for you? That sounds a little paranoid, don’t you think?”
“He stuck me with a hopeless case. One that he knows I can’t solve—” I stopped talking abruptly. Hannah made it too easy to reveal things I shouldn’t.
I liked it.
It worried me.
“A hopeless case, huh? Those are the best kind.” She reached across the table and briefly laid her hand on top of mine. I felt the tip of her shoe run along the side of my leg. All my blood ran south.
I forgot about my steak. I forgot about how fucking hungry I had been.
I wanted only one thing.
One person.
And she was sitting entirely too far away from me at the moment.
I turned my hand so that I could thread my fingers through hers. “You wanna get out of here?” I asked her softly.
I noticed a fine tremor in her hand. I squeezed just a little.
“Yes,” she whispered, closing her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, they were molten. Burning hot.
Fuck.
How was it possible to be so turned on just by a look?
I lifted my other hand, the one not holding hers, and waved down the waiter. “Check, please.”
Chapter 8
Hannah
We left the restaurant quickly after Mason paid the bill.
What was I doing?
Was I really going to go home with him?
