He doesn’t need to.
The coffee arrives.
Neither of us touches it.
He leans back in his chair, relaxed, certain, sinfully satisfied.
“Now,” he says, “ask your next question.”
I clear my throat. “Okay. Fine. Next question. What’s your biggest flaw?”
He stares at me, unblinking, unapologetic.
“I don’t give up,” he says.
“Not on anything I want.”
My pulse skitters.
“And you?” he adds. “What’s your biggest flaw?”
I open my mouth.
Nothing comes out.
He smiles.
“Exactly.”
CHAPTER 8
Jaxon
Ruby leaves the café in a rush, cheeks flushed, hair a little messy, breathing unsteady, and it takes every ounce of discipline in my bloodstream not to reach out and pull her back.
She said, “It can’t happen again,” but her eyes said something entirely different.
I watch her walk across the crosswalk, her skirt brushing her thighs with every step, her hands clenched in her pockets like she’s physically holding herself together.
She has no idea what she does to me. No idea how long it’s been since someone unsettled my control like this. No idea how fast I’m losing the part of me that gives a damn about rules.
I don’t follow her out immediately; that would be recklessandobvious. I give her two full minutes, then step out of the café and start walking back across the street.
And that’s when I see him.
A man in a navy suit, leaning against the building entrance, was talking to her. He laughs at something she says. She smiles back, small, polite, nothing compared to the way she smiled last night, but still…
It hits me wrong, deep, sharp, and territorial.
I slow my pace.
He gestures toward the elevator doors. She shakes her head. He touches her elbow lightly.
My jaw tightens.
She pulls her arm back. Good, but the fact that he touched her at all?
That pisses me off more than it should.
