Kade watched Camille's heels click against the marble as she led the way. She moved with a rhythmic, predatory grace that he remembered all too well from the ball. Back then, she had been a swirl of silk and soft laughter in his arms. Now, she was wrapped in a tailored suit that tried, and failed to hide the curves he still felt imprinted on his palms.
He straightened his jacket, trying to shake the taste of her lips from the back of his mind. Every time she turned a corner, his eyes zeroed in on the sway of her hips. He wasn't going to lose his composure here. Not in front of the board.
The conference room smelled of expensive coffee and polished wood. The clients, a pair of aggressive developers from the Voronin group, were already seated, hiding behind tablets and legal jargon.
Camille took her seat at the end of the table, right next to him. Her gaze swept the room, cataloging names, positions, and roles.
Earlier, she had felt Kade's attention on her and had wondered what he was thinking, but now she caught herself studying him too. Her eyes drifted to his hands, strong and tempered, and the solid line of his thighs so close to her knees. His long, powerful legs exuded an authority that made her release a quiet breath.
This man was all male.
Kade's eyes flicked to her for the umpteenth time. For a fleeting moment, he thought he saw a flash of desire in her eye. He watched her carefully, noting the tightness of her shoulders and the micro-expressions of recognition when the analyst, Mila, spoke.
She was quiet, watching, and taking notes. But she wasn't just recording the meeting; she was dissecting it. He saw her note the analyst's hesitation and the subtle errors in Milo's data that everyone else had missed.
He allowed himself one small indulgence, leaning slightly forward as she passed a folder for review. He caught the scent of her perfume and the softness of her skin at the back of her wrist. A fleeting, lewd thought ran through his mind, but he suppressed it immediately. Professional, he reminded himself. She's your secretary, for Christ's sake.
But she had him thinking in ways he hadn't allowed in years.The memory of that night at the ball, the kiss, the warmth of her pressed against him,had not faded. And now she was here. Alluring, poised, and beautiful. He allowed a fraction of a smile to curve his lips and leaned back to continue his subtle observation.
The meeting continued, project updates flowing in a rhythmic manner. Camille contributed only when necessary, her tone neutral but precise. Kade watched the sensual curve of her lips as she answered questions and the way she brushed a stray hair away from her face. Every so often, her eyes would flick up toward him, meeting his for a heartbeat before returning to the materials in front of her.
The atmosphere shifted when the Russians tried to bury them in the fine print, sliding a contract across the table that felt like a trap. Kade was ready to tear it apart, but Camille beat him to it.
"The arbitration clause on page twelve," she said quietly.
The room went dead silent.
"What about it?" the lead developer snapped.
Camille didn't look up from the document. "It cites the 2014 regulatory framework. That was superseded three years ago. If we sign this, Wilder Nexus takes the entire liability for the Baltic transit. It's a forty-million-dollar loophole."
She finally looked up, her gaze landing on the Russian with a calm, terrifying precision. "Unless, of course, that was an oversight."
The developer's face flushed a deep, angry red. He slammed a hand onto the table, leaning forward to loom over her. "Listen here, little girl. We do not come to this table to be lectured by someone who handles calendars. The clause is standard. You are overreaching."
Kade's chair scraped against the floor, a sharp, violent sound that cut the Russian off. He didn't rise, but the shift in his posture was enough to turn the air in the room to ice.
"She isn't overreaching," Kade said, his voice dropping to a dangerous rumble. "She's doing your job for you. Only she's doing it honestly."
The Russian opened his mouth to retort, but Kade was already standing. "The meeting is over. Fix the 'oversight' and send a clean copy to my office by morning. If I see another loophole, don't bother calling back."
He didn't wait for a response. He placed a hand on the small of Camille's back, a possessive, grounding touch that steered her toward the door.
***
The tension followed them out of the building. By the time they climbed into the back of the car, the air felt thin, charged with a current that made Kade's skin itch. He watched her profile as the car pulled into traffic.
"You're full of surprises, Camille," he said.
"I like to be thorough," she replied. Her voice was steady, though he noticed her fingers tighten on the handle of her briefcase. "It's no big deal."
She reached for her seatbelt, but the retractor jammed. She gave it a sharp, frustrated tug, the first crack Kade had seen in that perfect mask.
"Let me."
He didn't wait for an answer. Kade leaned over, his chest brushing against her shoulder as he reached across her lap. The scent of her hit him again, floral and sharp, making his head swim. He could feel the heat radiating off her skin, heard her breath hitch in the quiet car. He grabbed the metal tongue of the belt, but he didn't click it. He stayed there, pinned in her space, his face inches from hers.
He could see the gold flecks in her eyes and the pulse jumping in her throat.
"Liar," he breathed, the word barely a whisper.
He slowly pulled the belt across her, his knuckles grazing the fabric of her skirt. He took his time, watching her shiver under the contact. He clicked the buckle home, but he stayed close, letting the silence stretch until it was suffocating.
His eyes dropped to her lips, lingering a bit before meeting her gaze again. He pulled back finally, but the air between them stayed heavy. Kade turned to look out the window, his jaw tight. He wanted her out of his head, and he wanted her closer than she already was. It was a hell of a way to start a Monday.