Those teal eyes blaze with intensity as a haunting chord trembles through me, and suddenly, this feels too dangerous.
When observing an event, the observer cannot interfere.
I break the hold of her gaze and grip the handle, leather stretched across my knuckles. “You can tell Leo his scheme failed,” I say, jaw tense. “No need to loiter in my lectures any longer, Dr. Holbrook. You’re relieved of your obligation.”
My words reek of a finality that bears down on my chest with a crushing weight. I pull in the clutch and start the engine, desperate to put distance between us.
She reaches over and turns the ignition off. I follow her arm up until I reach her face. My nostrils flare as I inhale the subtle vanilla scent and a spicy floral note beneath the exhaust fumes.
Her gaze lingers on my gloved hands, and I realize she deliberately avoided touching me. “That’s a dangerous thing,” I say, my tone dropping a register. “Touching a man’s bike.”
She pulls away and adjusts her scarf higher, and a flame licks through me at the deviant thought of gripping the fabric and wrapping it tight.
“Yeah, someone once told me words are less effective, or something like that,” she says, dragging me from my debased thoughts, and a devious smile curls my lips. “I’m not Banner’s puppet. I thought convincing him to agree to your terms would earnmeenough points for you to trust me.”
I make a sound of amusement in the back of my throat. So Collins is behind Leo relocating the research team. I wonder if she realizes he’s only agreeing to her terms for the same reason he’s agreeing to mine—to get what he wants in the end.
The sudden thought that Collins might be trying to leverage him stirs something curious within me, and I drum my fingers against my helmet. “You’re a Sagittarius and you can’t swim. That’s all I know about you.”
Yet as I say this, my words feel wrong. Even in a void of space, one destructive force recognizes another. Every particle has a twin with an opposite charge. When they meet, they annihilate each other on contact. This process is violent and unstoppable once it begins.
Collins slips the umbrella into her briefcase and crosses her arms. “So you need to know every mundane detail about my life to form a conclusion, Dr. Night?”
“Not every mundane detail,” I say, a slow smirk tipping my mouth. “Just your hopes, your dreams. What you most passionately crave out of life.”
“Oh, is that all,” she remarks with a mocking tilt of her head. “What I want more than anything is for you to let me do my job.”
“That’s going to be difficult without me.”
“Obviously,” she mutters. “Which is why the transfer of your colleagues is only temporary during the evaluation period.”
I swipe a hand over my mouth to cover a grin. “Your attempt at coercion is sexy.”
She firms her posture. “That would violate my ethics.”
“And your ethics are incorruptible.”
She gives me that wickedly sinful smile that first captivated me, that stole my breath across my lecture hall. “Absolutely.”
The dare to discover just how corruptible she is hovers in the charged space between us, a dangerous temptation that crashes against my skull like a thrashing, dark wave.
And once again, I’m questioning why her name lit the screen. For days straight, I’ve combed through code, searching for some flaw in the data, some hidden corruption that allowed her name to slip through.
But there’s nothing. Collins is different from the others. A fact my algorithm confirmed when it labeled her in bold letters:
ANOMALY.
“I’m impressed,” I say. “Coercing me into the assessment by dangling my observatory like bait. Ethically, of course.”
She frees a strained breath. “Well, we know how you’d handle the situation. Although punching you might feel satisfying, I’m serious when I say I’d truly like to help you, Orion.”
Jesus. Now I’m hung on all the ways I could satisfy her. “You got a little violence in you, Dr. Holbrook.”
Ignoring my baiting remark, she says, “Listen, even if you succeed in having me removed, Banner will just bring in another professional—one who might not have your best interests in mind.”
“And you do.”
“I do,” she says quickly. “The discord between you and Dr. Prescott can’t remain unresolved. The evaluation could take weeks, or even months. During that time, you’ll have your observatory all to yourself. Maybe longer, depending on the outcome.” A sly smile twists her lips. “Like I said, I’m completing the eval one way or another. But it is in your best interest to work with me. So, are you going to give me what I need, Dr. Night?”
