“Did you hear me?” I stand up, so I can see him over the wall of monitors that blocks him from view.
He doesn’t so much as take his eyes off the screen. “Yes, I heard you, Rune. I just don’t see a reason to respond. Whatever game you’re playing, I have no desire to be a part of it.”
“I’m not playing a game.”
“Right.” His fingers beat a rapid-fire tattoo on his keyboard, hard enough that it sounds like he’s punishing it for itstransgressions. “I forgot. You’re cursed, and if I date you, I’ll die.”
“It’s the truth. I know you don’t believe me, but it is.” I walk closer, close enough that I can smell the cedar-and-vanilla scent that emanates from him. He glances up at me, and God, those blue eyes of his…even cold with fury, they’re so gorgeous, they take my breath away.
“I told you what my brother did to me, Rune. What an asshole he is. I poured my fucking heart out to you. And the whole time, you had some bullshit scheme going on with him behind my back.”
“It’s not like that!” I say, hands on my hips. The brand on my palm has faded, and I’m not sure if Donovan can see it, anyway. Who knows how these things work? Still, I have no desire to have to explain myself, just in case. “I swear to you,” I say, folding my wounded hand into a fist, “I never saw Cooper’s face or heard his name before the morning that I tried to push him out of the way of that bus.”
“Sure,” Donovan scoffs. “Then what does he want with you? Why did he say he believed your ridiculous story?”
He has me there. What am I supposed to say?Your brother’s a witch, I’m a seer, and we both know I need to stay away from you. Oh, and there’s a Blood Witch on the loose at Smashbox who’s responsible for the death of my parents. Want to help me find them?
At a loss, I don’t say anything, and Donovan’s lips flatten into a thin line. “That’s what I thought,” he says.
I should let him believe that he’s right about Cooper. It would be the easiest way to close the door on this discussion, for good. But I can’t bear to do it. Even if he can never be mine, I can’t stand for him to think that I would hurt him this way. That he’s misjudged me so badly. “He didn’t want me to date you, it’s true,” I say, the closest to the truth that I can manage. “But notbecause he wants me, or because there’s some kind of plot going on. Honestly, he can’t stand me. He just thinks I’m not good enough for you.”
Donovan pushes back from his desk, rolling his eyes. “Oh, that makes so much sense. Because my brother thinks so highly of me, and the woman who supposedly tried to save his life is a subpar human being. If you’re going to lie, Rune, at least try to make it believable.”
He’s on his feet now, glaring down at me. Only his desk separates us. And God, I want so badly to lean across it and kiss him.
“Donovan, please,” I say instead. “That night—it meant something to me. If I could be with you, I would be. Please believe me.”
He lets out a bitter laugh. “Let me tell you what I believe, Rune. I believe that we have to work together, to get this damn project done. And as far as I’m concerned, it can’t be done soon enough. So we will coexist in the same space, and we will interact as we need to for professional purposes, and other than that, we’ll each pretend the other one doesn’t exist. Okay?”
“No!” I tell him hotly. “Damn it, Donovan, I’m trying to save your?—”
“Everything cool in here?” It’s Ethan, poking his head around the door. “I thought I heard yelling.”
Donovan and I take an automatic step back from each other, even though the desk is already between us. “Everything’s great,” I say. “Just, um, getting a little bit passionate about the project.”
I glance over at my irate coworker to make sure he’s backing me up on this, but no luck. His hands are shoved in his pockets, and he’s glowering in my general direction. Great. What happened tointeracting as we need to for professional purposes?
“I see.” Ethan’s brow wrinkles in concern. “I came to get you for our meeting with the historical society. Don’t want to be late, you know. But I have to tell you, I’d hoped the two of you would’ve warmed up to each other a little more by now.”
“We’re fine,” Donovan says stiffly.
“Oh, sure.” His gaze shifts between the two of us. “I take back my question. It’s not cool in here. It’s the freaking Arctic. Frost, you’re more than living up to your name.”
Donovan transfers the glower to Ethan, who—as usual—is unaffected by anything other than his own priorities. He winks at Donovan, as if the glower is an inside joke between them. “Listen, I’ve been meaning to organize a little overnight retreat for Smashbox. Not the whole company, mind you. Just a small group of my most productive employees, to focus on teambuilding and trust, that kind of thing. And looking at what’s going on in here, I don’t think there could be a better time.”
A smile spreads across his bearded face, as if he’s just announced that he’s giving out free hundred-dollar bills. But Donovan and I don’t return it. We’re both staring at him with matching expressions of horror.
“You want us to hang out at some corporate slumber party where we’ll sit around doing icebreakers and trust falls?” Donovan says, just as I stutter, “Overnight? Us? That’s really not necessary. We have a lot of work to do.”
“Exactly,” Ethan says, smiling more widely than ever. “And you’re not getting it done here. You’re just arguing. What you two need is a little getaway. I’ve got the perfect facilitator. It’ll be just the thing. Now come on, we don’t want to keep the historical society waiting.”
He turns, strolling out the door. Donovan stalks after him, and I follow, two thoughts on loop in my head. First: I’ve landed an all-expenses-paid overnight trip with the unfairly hot guy I need to keep my distance from, on literal pain of death. Andsecond: depending on who Ethan’s including in this nightmarish little gathering, he may have just handed me the perfect opportunity to discover which Smashbox employee is linked to my parents’ murder.
Chapter
Thirty-Three
Donovan doesn’t saya word on our way down in the elevator. He doesn’t so much as look at me on the five-minute walk to the historical society’s headquarters, a few blocks down Orchard Street. Ethan’s right: I can practically feel the chill radiating off him. It’s so strong, I have to fight a shiver with every step.
