Can we go to your house already? I don't speak those desperate thoughts out loud because I could barely think; that is how dazed his words left me.
"Have I answered your question now?"
"Huh!" I blinked at him, wondering what the fuck he was talking about. How can he go from almost fucking me on my desk to having a serious conversation in the next minute? He should give a girl a damn minute to recover.
"You asked why I am toying with you, and I was hoping I had answered the question," he explains, his eyes fixed so strongly on my face that I could feel it like a physical touch.
"Are you saying you are not getting back with her?"I asked softly, feeling a little apprehensive about what his answer would be. It is a little annoying that I care so much when I shouldn't, but try as I may, I am struggling to fight this whirlpool of emotions he arouses inside me.
And his silence after Melissa's threat wasn't exactly reassuring.
He raises his finger to caress my face, his intense expression softening, as his blue eyes lose the scorching intensity of his lust to attain a warm glow that speaks of affection.
"I don't do anything that I don't mean. When I ended things with Melissa, I meant it."
I was tempted to relax my face against his hand. I love the feel of his calloused fingers against my face. They don't feel like the hands of a spoilt rich brat.
And for a second, I wondered how those calluses would feel against my nipples. I shiver inside at the implied pleasure that would bring, before I refocused my attention. With how sexy he looks, it is little wonder my thoughts keep drifting.
"And her threat of telling your parents?"
He shrugs like it is not a big deal, but I could see the tightening of the corners of his eyes, telling me that though he might act like it is nothing, his parents finding out that he broke his engagement is going to be a big deal.
"I am not responsible for what Melissa does; she is her own person and is free to do whatever she likes. But know this, it is over between us."
His last words feel like he is trying to tell me something. My heart starts to beat faster as I see the truth of his words in his eyes.
Is this what I want? I came here to destroy this man, not fall in love with him.
I couldn't speak. The atmosphere has grown so intense that I am almost at the verge of passing out.
"Hey, you can breathe. I am not telling you this to make any demands on you. I want you to know that I am not playing games. I want this, but I understand you are not yet on the same wavelength as me. I am willing to wait."
He leans down and kisses me softly, not a kiss of passion, but one of promise.
"And no matter what happens, I will protect you."
Even as his words set my body on fire, they terrify me. I was scared of messing this up, scared of being hurt again, and more importantly, scared by what his protection implies.
Am I in danger?
"Come, I will take you home now," he says, helping me down from the desk.
We left the office with his hand holding mine. I didn't object.
At the garage, a few feet away from his car, someone calls out his name, and we turn to find Daniel with two men heading toward us.
Fuck! What is Daniel doing here? And catching me with my hand intertwined with the enemy. What is he going to think?
That I've gone crazy, or that I'm taking our revenge plans a little too far. Sleeping with Ryan wasn't part of the deal, unfortunately, or maybe luckily—that's where things seem to be heading.
I go to snatch my hand from Ryan, but the stubborn man won't let go.
What the hell is he doing? Doesn't he realize it looks bad for him to be holding hands with his assistant?
Is he not afraid of what people might say? If I plan to stay here long, I'd probably be more worried about myself than him, but since I intend to disappear once I get something that could destroy the Blackwells, I'm not concerned about my reputation.
I shoot him a "what the hell are you doing" look while trying to pull my hand back, and he responds with a raised brow while gripping on tightly.
I glare at him, and he glares back, his stronger, telling me without words to stop resisting him. I immediately stop protesting and let him hold my hand.
He flashes me a winning grin, showing off those deadly dimples, leaving me to stare, mesmerized, as my surroundings fade from my mind.
I blink out of my dazed state when I feel Daniel and the officers approaching. I look down, refusing to meet Daniel's eyes. I'm scared of what I might see if our eyes meet.
Would he be disappointed? Blame me? Think I'm stupid?
We wait for the officers to speak and explain why they're here, but no one says a word.
Because of the silence, I have to lift my head and look, and I see that the two men are waiting for Daniel to act, but Daniel's focus is on where Ryan is holding my hand.
He looks at our joined hands with a scowl, his displeasure obvious at least to me.
I did wonder at that.
Why does he look pissed? Is he being protective, or is it something else? I immediately discarded the last thought as me overreaching. Daniel and I are partners, at best, friends. He has never shown any indication that he is interested in me.
I wasn't the only one who noticed where he was staring. Ryan did as well, and I felt his walls rise like the Mount of Sinai.
"Is there a problem, officer?" Ryan addresses Daniel with steel in his voice, while he stares at my partner with narrowed eyes.
The coldness in his voice would leave anyone intimidated, but not the man in leather.
Daniel looked away from our joined hands—which Ryan stubbornly refused to let go—to meet Ryan's eyes squarely. He doesn't look an inch intimidated by the powerful CEO; rather, he stares at him as if he wants to take a club to his head.
I know Daniel dislikes the Blackwells, but the dark look in his eyes as he stares at Ryan makes me feel like he has a personal beef with my boss.
I stiffened, hoping that Daniel wouldn't say anything stupid that would get him in trouble with the Blackwells. Sometimes, Daniel lets his feelings speak for him rather than his head, and he is already on a tightrope with his superiors.
The last thing we need is him getting fired before the investigation even starts.
As if he remembered what was at stake, the anger in his eyes, or whatever those dark emotions were, disappeared, and he stared at Ryan with a professional expression on his face.
"I am sorry, Mr. Blackwell, to interrupt your evening." He skirts a look at our joined hands again, as if to imply something—I am going to kill him—and then he smoothly continues. "I have a few questions I would like to ask you, if you don't mind?"
His stare became a little daring, as if he were challenging Ryan to give him an excuse to use the law against him.
What is he doing? I panicked. Ryan might act gentlemanly at times, but he is a man capable of being cantankerous when provoked, and his personality is very unpredictable. You never know which Ryan you are going to get—the gentleman part or the asshole who sometimes reminds you how arrogant rich people tend to be.
"I do mind, officer. As you rightly said, I do have a business I need to attend to urgently." He squeezes my hand, as if implying something himself, and I am tempted to take my hand back again. Why are they using me for their petty contest? "If you have official business, why don't you call my assistant and book an appointment with her?"
Looking as innocent as a baby, when he is anything but, Daniel asked. "I heard you fired your assistant. Have you found a replacement?"
What the fuck?