The simple touch races up my arm and settles in my sternum like a gift. I carry it into my office, feeling ready for anything.
But still, Marcus’s words sit in my head like thorns.
The day is long. A blur of meetings and numbers moving across screens, traders wanting my opinion on moves. I process everything the way I usually do—ruthlessly and precisely—but every time I look over at her, I can’t help thinking…
She thinks there was an actual job for her…
The thought gnaws at me all through lunch, through my conference call with Paris, through a budget review that commands my full attention.
I can feel it slipping…
What if Marcus is right? Should I tell her?
If I tell her, she might leave. And just the thought of Hazel leaving me—of that gorgeous smile vanishing from my life—that’s a kind of pain I don’t know if I can endure.
She glances back at me throughout the day. My body responds, but I keep myself busy, leaving no time for one of our usual rendezvous behind the smart glass.
I’m just too conflicted.
She chose to stay after she read the contract.Thatwas real.Thatwas her decision. But the road that brought her to me? That was all me.
When we get to the penthouse, she quickly changes into my T-shirt and nothing else, then joins me on the couch. Her finger traces little circles on my chest—lines like she’s writing secret messages on my skin.
The hem of the shirt rides up, showing me the smooth curve of her thigh, the seductive slope where her waist dips, and the lines leading down to her pink slit, hidden in shadow.
But I know it’s ready for me.She’sready.
The most beautiful woman in the world, and she chose to be here with me.
Except shedidn’tchoose. I made the choice for her. I trapped her in a contract and made it feel like opportunity.
“I still can’t believe we found each other,” she murmurs against my chest. Her voice is sleepy and at ease. The voice of a girl who feels safe. “What are the odds I’d send a resume to a hedge fund and actually get hired?”
Yeah, what are the odds…?
My chest tightens. A crack forms, and guilt comes pouring out. Yeah, Marcus is right. She has to know. I can’t keep lying to her.
“Hazel…” My voice is weak.
“Hmmm?”
Using my thumb, I lift her chin and bring her eyes to mine. Hazel, just like her name. So sweet, filled with a trust I haven’t earned. Her brow furrows as she searches my face. She knows me well by now, and she knows something’s up.
“I need to tell you something, angel.”
She sits up and faces me, causing the T-shirt to drift off one shoulder. My desire rises up inside me. I want to press my teeth against her exposed skin and kiss her all over. Devour her.
She’s mine. MINE!
But not right now. Not until I’ve given her my confession.
“I’ve never said this to anyone before.” My voice sounds like rough gravel being poured over steel. “In thirty-four-years. Not to a woman or a friend. I didn’t think I was capable of feeling it. I thought…I was built wrong. The night before you applied to the position, I sat in my bedroom alone. Alone like I’ve been for years.” My stomach clenches. I drag my tongue across my teeth.
These emotions…they’re so foreign to me.
“I thought,this is it. This is how the rest of my life will be. Work and nothing else. An empty penthouse with a dead woman’s photo on the bookcase.”
Concern floods her eyes. She finds my hand and grasps it tightly.
