I’ve done my research, hours and days and months of research, on intellectual property laws. I know I have more to learn—of course I do—but I would put my knowledge base up against Rick’s any day.
Suddenly the need to take this new position out for a spin is a driving urgency inside of me. One that makes all the shit from earlier seem not so bad. Because as long as I know the truth, as long as I believe I got the position because of what I’ve done and not because the boss wants to date me, then the rest doesn’t matter.
“Do you mean it?” I finally ask Ethan. “You think I’m good enough to do this project?”
“My company wouldn’t be as successful as it is if I was in the habit of putting incompetent people into positions that matter, Chloe. I don’t know how many other ways to say it. ”
He’s right. I need to either believe him or not, but I can’t keep asking him the same thing over and over again. Deciding that the sincerity on his face is real, as are his reassurances that any attraction he has for me is separate from my work, I relax for the first time since I opened that box last night.
“Thank you for giving me the shot,” I tell him.
He grins. “You look like you swallowed the sun. ”
“I feel like I did. I promise I’ll do a good job on the project. ”
“I have no doubt. ” His smile fades. “But what’s going on over there? You said you’re having problems with the other interns?”
I think of Rick’s smarmy face, of Chrissy’s total lack of friendliness after she realized what project I was assigned. None of it seems so bad now, not when I know that I got the job because Ethan believes in me. “It’s no big deal. I can handle it. ”
He doesn’t look pleased. “What exactly do you have to handle?”
“Nothing you need to worry about. ”
“You sure about that?”
“Positive. ” I push to my feet. “Thank you for your time. I won’t keep you. ”
He reaches out, snags my elbow. “What if I want to keep you?”
The question hangs in the air between us, and it occurs to me that he’s talking about a lot more than just this moment. A lot more than I’m prepared to even consider.
It’s there in the air between us. In the look on his face and the conviction in his voice.
In the way his thumb brushes against my inner elbow with whisper-soft strokes.
In the way he angles his body so that he’s on the outside, shielding me, protecting me from I don’t know what.
And it’s there in the butterflies in my stomach, the electric sparks racing from one nerve ending to the other.
I’m shocked by how much I want to say yes. Yes to dinner, yes to a walk on the beach, yes to what comes after. But nothing’s changed between when I came charging up here and now. Nothing but my perceptions. The rest of the world is exactly the same. I’m exactly the same. As damaged—as ruined—as ever.
I don’t want Ethan to see it, to see me. If he does, he’ll know just how broken I am, and I’ve spent too many years trying to keep my past private to simply roll over and expose the underbelly of my secrets now. Even if there is something about him that makes me want to.
“I need to go. ”
His eyes narrow at the huskiness of my voice, and he stands up. Steps closer to me. Watches me with an intensity that says he notices everything. Sees everything.
It’s what I’m most afraid of, and contrarily what I most want. Someone who really sees me, who takes the time to look beyond the surface and the lies and the No Trespassing signs I wear like my own personal armor. That Ethan can do it so easily cripples my defenses, and I find myself clinging to him, my fingers tangled in the soft silk of his dress shirt. He reaches up to stroke my hair back from my face and even my curls hold on for dear life, wrapping themselves around his fingers in a desperate attempt to keep him close.
His hand tightens on my elbow, not enough to hurt, but enough to let me know that he’s there. Enough to make me feel him, really feel him. And then slowly, inexorably, he pulls me closer until I can feel the powerful beat of his heart against my chest. The hard ridge of his erection against my hip.
I wait for the panic, for the fear. For the inevitable freak-out that has followed every time a man invades my personal space.
This time it doesn’t come. I don’t know why, not when Ethan is as close to me—closer—than I’ve let anyone get in a very long time. It’s not because I’m not nervous, because I am. My heart is nearly beating out of my chest while drops of sweat work their way slowly down my spine.
And yet I don’t feel threatened. Don’t feel like he’ll take any more than I want to give. Maybe it’s a pipe dream. Maybe I’m just as foolish as every other girl caught in the throes of sexual attraction for a powerful man.
I shake my head, look away. There’s no maybe about it. Ethan wouldn’t have built the company he has if he was willing to settle for crumbs and half measures. He wouldn’t be where he is if he couldn’t look below the surface to what lies underneath and figure out how to get it. If he can do that in business, what makes me think for a second that he won’t also be able to do the same with me?