There’s a twinkle in her eye as she cuts her steak. “Dick,” she mutters under her breath.
The corner of my mouth twitches before I can stop it. “Excuse me?”
She glances up, feigning innocence. “Did I say that out loud?”
“You did.”
“Well, maybe I meant it.”
I laugh, low and genuine, the sound surprising even me. She looks almost pleased by it, though she tries to hide it behind her fork. For a fleeting moment, we’re just two people having lunch. No blood, no lies, no ghosts.
When she sets her fork down, I notice her hand tremble slightly before she pulls it into her lap. “You really don’t hate me?” she asks quietly, not looking at me.
“No, Leoni,” I say, my voice soft. “I never hated you.”
She glances up, and something in her eyes hooks into my chest, like she’s daring me to prove it.
The air between us tightens. Her breath hitches just enough for me to notice. I lean in without thinking, my eyes flicking to her lips. She doesn’t move away. Christ, she doesn’t even blink.
I can smell her perfume, something soft and warm that doesn’t belong in my world. My hand twitches, wanting to touch her, to trace the curve of her jaw, to pull her closer until I forget who I am and what I’m doing.
“Warren…” she whispers, barely audible.
A shadow falls across the table. And then the spell breaks.
“Boss,” says Anthony’s gruff voice.
I sit back fast, clearing my throat. Leoni blinks, the colour rushing to her cheeks.
“Car’s outside,” Anthony adds, eyeing me with the kind of look that saysI saw that.
“Perfect timing,” I mutter, shoving my chair back and reaching for my jacket. I take out my wallet and drop a wedge of cash on the table.
Leoni stands too, fumbling for her bag. Neither of us speaks on the way out. The silence feels louder than the clatter of cutlery or the murmur of other diners.
Outside, Anthony opens the car door, and she slides in without a word. I follow, taking the seat beside her. She’s staring out of the window, her jaw tight, pretending the city traffic is fascinating.
Her lips are still parted, and I can’t stop thinking about how close I came to crossing a line I can’t uncross.Again.Fuck.I’m carrying out my father’s plan, and I don’t even mean to.
Anthony pulls the car to a stop outside the office. I glance across at Leoni, who’s still avoiding my eyes. Her fingers twist nervously around the strap of her bag.
“Go on,” I say quietly.
She frowns. “Aren’t you coming?”
“In a minute. Walking in together might start tongues wagging.”
She hesitates, then nods. “Right. Wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation.”
She slips out of the car and heads for the front doors without another word. I watch her disappear inside before running a hand down my face.
“She’s getting under your skin,” says Anthony, breaking the silence.
“Don’t start,” I mutter.
He smirks but doesn’t push. “I did what you asked. Dug into her family.” He pauses, glancing at me. “Her dad’s name isMichael Rowe.”
The name hits like a spark in a dark room. Familiar. Wrongly familiar.
