Yeah, she was a whiz at separating business and pleasure. The moment his flesh touched hers, all thoughts of business went out the window and she’d forgotten about digging for his secrets entirely.
That wasn’t going to work. She had to get back in the game.
* * *
Gage dropped Cass off at her house with a terse good-night.
They hadn’t spoken at all after she shut him down. Apparently, she could flip the ice-goddess switch at will, melting in his arms for a gorgeous orgasm that nearly finished him off, as well, and then hardening her spine right back into place.
He was slipping if that hadn’t gotten him an invitation into her bed. Cass had matured in many intriguing ways, but she’d also grown...distant. He had to figure out how to get rid of that space between them or he’d lose his bid for the formula. This was one competition he could not afford to lose.
When he got back to his hotel, frustrated and alone, Arwen greeted him at the door, leash in her mouth. He groaned. Last thing he needed right now. “All right.”
Happily, she sniffed her way in the dark to the small park across from his hotel, zigzagging between clumps of bushes as she always did. It got a small smile from him. He hadn’t been able to send her home and midnight walks in the park were due penance.
Unfortunately, Arwen didn’t talk so he was left with his thoughts for company and they were anything but restful.
This thing with Cass was a problem. She was making him lose his focus on the end game. He still didn’t know why she’d asked him to help her or what that silly game at dinner had been about, but one thing was for sure—he’d fully intended to find out. That was before she’d put on that cranberry dress and driven him to thorough distraction.
Of course, his solution to eliminating the distraction had been—and would continue to be—burning off their mutual, insanely hot attraction with a night of uninhibited passion. Then, with that out of the way, they both could concentrate on the business at hand: the leak.
He hoped. He couldn’t deny he wanted Cass more fiercely than he could ever recall wanting a woman. Maybe more. He still ached with unfulfilled release and it was an unpleasant reminder that somewhere in the middle of all of this, getting his hands on Cass had started to eclipse getting his hands on her formula. Somehow, his plan to remind her of what she owed him had vanished and become a plan to reacquaint himself with Cass as a lover.
That was an even bigger problem. He was not going home without that formula. So far, he wasn’t balancing his two agendas very well.
That changed la mañana.
Seven
“Hi, Melinda,” he said easily to Fyra’s receptionist the next morning. “I have a nine o’clock with Ms. Claremont.”
“Good morning, Mr. Branson,” she chirped. “She’s expecting you.”
Looked as though Cass had already cleared the decks for their leak discussion, which was masquerading as a “consulting” gig. The cover story had been quick thinking on his part, if he did say so himself.
He knocked on her open door. Cass was waiting for him, leaning on the front of her desk, arms crossed over a sleek pantsuit. Chopsticks peeked over the edge of her crown and dang if his fingers didn’t curl at the sight of them, itching to yank them out.
He tore his gaze away. Focus.
“Ready to get to work?” Cass asked coolly as if last night had never happened.
“Sure.” He grinned to dispel the heavy vibe and slid into one of the chairs on the visitor’s side of the desk. No power plays today. None of them had worked anyway.
Well...they’d worked to a degree. After all, he’d had Cass in his arms twice last night. That was progress. Very hot, very spectacular progress. His body sprang fully alert.
Focus, he reminded himself.
“I have a couple of thoughts I wanted to run by you,” she said.
She seemed agitated, though he couldn’t put his finger on what had given him that impression when she closely resembled an ice sculpture. A subtlety in her tone, maybe.
“Do any of them start with Gage and end with the word naked?”
Cass’s mouth tightened. So that hadn’t been the best tactic, even though he’d been kidding in an attempt to lighten the mood. Mostly. He could no sooner forget his outrageous attraction to her than he could leave without the formula. The dual agendas were supposed to complement each other, not be at war. It was killing him.