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His eyes darkened. “Very little is ever just about business, Sutton.”

My heart hammered against my ribs. I knew I should step back, put distance between us, but my body wouldn’t obey. “What else is it about, then?”

Cain reached out slowly, deliberately, and I swear I stopped breathing for a beat. His fingers lightly touched my arm, just above my wrist. Even through the fabric of my suit, I felt the heat of his skin.

“Power recognizes power,” he said softly. “It’s drawn to it, like gravity.”

I should have pulled away. Every professional instinct I’d cultivated over years told me to establish boundaries. Instead, I stood perfectly still, enjoying the feel of this connection between us.

“This is starting to lean into inappropriate territory and I don’t mix business with pleasure,” I managed to get out.

“Yet,” Cain replied with the confidence of a thousand suns. He stepped back, giving me room to breathe. “But let’s table that discussion for now. We have more pressing matters. I want you to think long and hard about my proposal.”

I couldn’t stop myself from looking down at something else I assumed was “long and hard.” I immediately looked away, mentally berating myself for where my eyes had wandered. What was happening to me? I never lost my composure like this especially professionally.

“I’ll need some time to consider all aspects of your offer,” I said, taking a deliberate step back to regain my footing.

“Of course, but not too much time. Business waits for no one.”

“How long do I have?” I asked.

“Three days.” He moved back to the seating area, picked up his coffee cup, and took a slow sip. “I have meetings in New York tomorrow and Thursday. I’ll expect your answer when I return here on Friday.”

I nodded because I knew I could make a decision in that timeframe, although it wasn’t much time given the magnitude of what this was. “Is there anything else we need to discuss today?”

“Just one thing. Whatever decision you make, make it because it’s what you want, not what you think your father would want.”

I schooled my reaction to his jab. “My relationship with my father isn’t relevant to this discussion,” I said stiffly.

“Everything is relevant, Sutton.” Cain’s eyes held mine. “The sooner you understand that, the better equipped you’ll be for what comes next.”

I grabbed my purse because I needed this meeting to end before I said or did something I’d regret. “If that’s all, I should get back to the office. I have other commitments today.”

“Of course.” He walked me to the door of the suite, maintaining a professional distance now. “My driver will take you wherever you need to go.”

When we reached the door, I braced myself because I was half-expecting him to try to kiss me. Part of me wondered what I would do if he did. Would I let him? Would I kiss him back?

But Cain simply opened the door and stepped aside. “I look forward to your decision, Sutton.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Ashcroft,” I said and walked away before he could correct me. As I made my way to the lobby, all I could think about was the decision looming over my head.

I had three days to figure out if I could work directly for a man who made me feel things I hadn’t felt in years. Three days to determine if the professional opportunity was worth the risk of whatever plan Cain was actually operating under.

Who would I be if I said yes? What would happen if I said no? Those questions lingered at the forefront of my mind for the rest of the day and into the evening as I tried to decide which road I should take.

10

CAIN

I sat in the back of my company car as it glided through D.C. traffic on Friday morning. I briefly closed my eyes, ignoring Nancy Stephens, my assistant, who was currently trying to drill into my head my schedule for the rest of the week and next.

“Mr. Ashcroft?”

With a heavy sigh, I turned my attention back to the phone call at hand. I appreciated all of the work that Nancy did for me but right now the last thing I wanted to do was listen to her drone on. “Yes, Nancy. I’m listening.” I was, barely, because I kept thinking about Sutton among other things, but she didn’t need to know that.

“I’m sorry,” she continued, “but I just need to confirm these appointments. Your calendar has been filling up even more than normal.”

“Go ahead,” I said, staring out the window but my attention was firmly on the woman who probably had more dirt on me than anyone else. “The board meeting for next Tuesday morning is still set for eight. You have a lunch with Senator Davis at one today, followed by the quarterly review with the Mercer team at three. Next Wednesday you’re flying to Chicago for the Richardson⁠—”