“Daniel.”
“Bailey.”
We glare at each other, neither refusing to back down. He’s hiding a smirk, teasing me, and I want to smack it right off his face. Or kiss it off.
“This is exactly why we need boundaries,” I say quietly.
His expression sobers. “You’re right. I apologize. Old habits.”
“What habits?”
“Enjoying seeing you blush.”
The honesty disarms me. Again. I clear my throat.
“Are we done negotiating?” I ask.
“Unless you have more conditions.”
“Nothing.”
“I won’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with, you have my word.”
I reach into my purse and pull out the envelope he gave me yesterday. “Then I’m in.” I set it on his desk.
He slides the envelope back toward me. “Take it.”
“After the first event.”
“Bailey—”
“After. When I’ve proven I can do this and you’ve proven you’ll keep your word, I’ll take it.”
Respect flickers across his face. “That’s fair.”
He extends his hand across the desk. “Partners?”
I look at his hand, remembering the last time we touched. The electricity that had sparked between us, even through the formality, was intense. This is different. This is business.
I take his hand.
The moment our palms connect, heat floods through me.
Daniel’s fingers tighten fractionally around mine. His eyes darken.
We both feel it.
The memory of skin on skin. I pull back first, and he releases me immediately.
“Professional,” I say, my voice not relatively steady.
“Completely professional,” he agrees.
But the air between us says otherwise.
I turn toward the door before I can do something stupid.
“Bailey.”
