The whip in her voice lashes my ears.
“Something wrong, Ban?”
“No, everything is very right.” I hear the dismissal before she voices it. “Thanks for calling. Let me know if we need to do anything for the sponsors, otherwise . . .”
Otherwise I can fuck off.
I kill the engine and head for the building.
“So that’s it?” I ask, checking the list of offices in the lobby to find Bagley. “You won’t tell me what I’ve done so wrong that we’re back at square one?”
“We never really left square one. I just needed reminding.” She sighs impatiently. “Look, I’m swamped. I need to go. Goodbye.”
On the elevator, anger percolates under my skin and throbs at my temples. Does she actually think I can be dismissed so summarily? Like I’m some puppy she can get rid of with one good kick? I will myself to calm down on the walk from the elevator to her office. Surprisingly, the door isn’t locked yet, and I walk right in. Note to self: she needs to fix that. The LA office is small, with most of Bagley’s agents still operating from New York. And it’s empty because everyone else has a life and has gone home. I find Banner’s office easily and the knob turns, opening right away.
I lock the door behind me.
She’s at the window, watching the city skyline start to glitter. When the door opens, she whips around, and I catch her unaware. The vulnerability and disappointment on her face before the indifferent mask locks in place makes me want to choke Cal Bagley.
“What do you want?” The ice in her eyes freezes me out, but I know how to warm her, how to warm us both.
“I thought I was very clear about what I wanted,” I say, walking over to stand beside her at the window. “I want you.”
She snorts, scorn distorting the sweet symmetry of her lips. She moves over to her desk and starts straightening papers and packing her bag.
“You want me?” she asks, not looking up from her task. “I already have a job, so you can stop recruiting.”
I move swiftly to the desk and put my hands over hers on top of the laptop she was about to pack.
“You know I don’t give a damn about that, Banner.” I dip my head to catch her eyes.
“No, I don’t know,” she says softly. “For years I believed you had ulterior motives that night when we . . .”
“Made love?” I offer. “But you said you believed Bent when he told you I had nothing to do with Prescott’s scheme.”
“Yeah. I . . . well, I did. It still all seems sudden and strange.” She pulls her hands from under mine and slides them into the pockets of the narrow black skirt hugging her ass like a lover. “I’m not your usual type, you must admit.”
She laughs, a rueful grin tipping one side of her mouth.
“I’m no Cindy.”
“Who the hell is Cindy?” I ask, perplexed.
“Seriously?” Incredulity is all over her face. “Miss Iowa from senior year?”
“Oh, hell, Banner. I forgot her before graduation day. Not really, but pretty damn close. That isn’t what this is about, is it?”
She lifts her lashes, but the gate is slammed shut over her dark eyes. “I don’t know what you mean.”
I capture her wrist, sit on the edge of the desk, and draw her between my legs.
“If I’m the asshole who pretends I want to be with you so you’ll come work for me,” I say, linking our fingers and sliding my other hand around her waist. “Then I can’t be the guy who has always seen you, always wanted you, and is willing to blow up your life, as you put it, to have you. If I’m lying, then this thing between us can’t be real and you won’t have to deal with it.”
I lift our linked hands to my lips, connecting our eyes and not relinquishing her.
“You wouldn’t have to deal with me.”
“No, that isn’t—”