Is he taking my side?
“Richie, you should be at your station.” He scowls.
Maybe not.
“And I’ll be there. Just as soon as I discuss this emergency with you.” I firm my lips, signaling he’s not getting rid of me that easily.
The bored look in his eyes deepens. Is he going to tell me to piss off?
Instead, he nods toward the exit.
“Angelina, you need to go.”
She blows out a breath. Seems disappointed, but resigned. She bends to kiss his lips.
That twist in my stomach intensifies into a burn.
Only, he moves his head, so she brushes his cheek.
The burn fades at once. I don’t want to examine my reaction too closely.
She picks up her clutch and walks past me. As she does, she smiles. I find myself smiling back. She actually seems like a nice woman.
By the time I look at The Ice Commander, he’s typing out something on his keyboard.
It’s a reassuringly normal thing to do. He is like the rest of us. He has to send emails too. More likely, he’s busy firing someone else at the other end.
A giggle wells up. I manage to choke it down, but he must hear it, for he looks up and arches an eyebrow.
The authority in that gesture causes my stomach to quiver. With uncertainty. Not with lust. Nope. I’m not turned on by his cold, bored demeanor at all. Not at all.
“May I?” I nod toward the seat.
“You may not.”
My jaw drops. How rude of him. I wonder if he’s doing it just to shock me? I decide to roll with it and hold onto my temper. I need to coax The Ice Commander to thaw a little.
“Was that your…girlfriend?” The question is out before I can stop it.
He looks at me with a quizzical look. He doesn’t seem put off by my question.
I raise my hand. “Ignore that; it was inappropriate.”
He searches my features, and one side of his mouth twists in the James’ version of a smirk.
“She’s a woman, who’s also my friend,” he explains like I’m five.
I flush. Serves me right for asking. Anyway, it’s not my business who he dates, is it? I decide to push on with the reason for my visit.
“I, uh, want to talk to you about Ollie.”
He inclines his head. Curiosity filters into his eyes. I take it as permission to inch toward him.
Every inch of the office feels like him. Controlled, precise, unmistakably his.
He’s seated behind the desk while I’m standing, technically looming over him.
It makes no difference. He still dominates the room.
