The thought made me work harder. I coded quickly and set up a hacking algorithm to break down the firewall. I grabbed my bag and went to the bathroom to change while it ran. I straightened the black dress I’d put on and eyed myself in the mirror. I’d probably put on a few extra pounds on my hips over the retreat. I smoothed my hand down the flowy silk of the dress.
It hugged the curves of my body and left little to the imagination. I loved the buttery silk of the dress because it was soft, comfortable, and sexy. I loved that when I moved, it let my curves sway, making me feel like I was embracing my feminine energy. With the lace at my cleavage and the open back, I knew I’d fit right in at the club.
I sat back down and applied smoky eyeliner, then red lipstick, as I waited for the firewall to break down. My screen moved quickly through codes that I knew had to mean something.
“What are you doing?” I heard his voice from far behind me.
Shit.I jumped and slammed my laptop closed.
His eyes were on me, my dress, my red lips.
I shot up from my desk and grabbed my bag. I didn’t want him to see that I’d been tinkering with old data and think maybe I’d stumbled onto something with the Albanians, that I was back to my old habits.
We were past them, right? Or maybe we weren’t, because if they were trying to hack our systems, Cade would need to be told. Better yet, Jett Stonewood and the president had to be told.
I would have to make sure later, though. I couldn’t tell him now or it would look like I had a vendetta. Not after the praise at the end of the retreat. I didn’t want him to look at me like I was a reckless person, not cut out for the job again, I realized.
After all we’d done on that retreat, I couldn’t handle being that to him again, even if I didn’t know what I was now. Sometimes the unknown in the dark, where a person can’t find a damn thing, is better than seeing the reality of it all.
“I was finishing up for the night.”
“Dressed like that?” I glanced down as I saw him eye my body like a starved animal.
“We’re going to the Halloween party at the club down the street.”
“Again, dare I ask, dressed like that?” His voice dropped a few octaves, and I had to clench my thighs to keep from spreading them for him.
I crossed my arms, and he growled when my cleavage bulged. “Yes, dressed like this. Got a problem with it?”
One of those large, tattooed hands shot out to drag one finger over the gold on my wrist. “Since we’re entertaining your damn idea that what was between us was a good time and done, the answer is no.”
“And if we weren’t entertaining my idea?” I whispered because I wanted to torture myself, obviously.
“If you were with me? Wanting to go out dressed like that? We wouldn’t leave the fucking building.”
“Someone is a bit territorial over a little skin showing, huh?”
“No, dollface. I know how to fight. I’m not worried about a guy looking at you wrong. I’ve slit enough throats to combat that.” His tone held menace as he threw around that Armanelli power. He didn’t do it often. It was how I knew Cade still felt something for me. Felt something deep and dark and dangerous. “We wouldn’t leave the building because I’d rip the dress off and bend you over your desk.”
“Cade,” I whispered, taking a step back, knowing I couldn’t resist him if he pushed me much further. And I had to because I felt the heartache of losing him already.
Losing him when I didn’t even quite have him was gut-wrenching. Depressing. And staggeringly more difficult than I’d thought.
“Want me to show you, baby doll? Or are we still playing your silly game?”
“No,” I blurted out and swiped my makeup and purse off my desk. “Find someone else to fuck over a desk.”
He straightened my chair and then leaned on it. “You think I can replace that sinful mouth of yours? Or find a girl who gives as good as she gets and can rival me in hacking, Ms. Hardy?”
“I’m sure you could find someone.” I shrugged, but the idea tore my heart out.
He nodded once, a frown appearing on his face, and he stepped back. Maybe he was letting me go; maybe he’d finally decided I was replaceable. “Yes, Izzy. Maybe I could, but I wouldn’t want to.”
He waved me past him, and I walked out toward the elevators. I tried not to look back, tried not to catch one last glimpse of my heart being left there, bleeding out on the floor.
When I turned, he was still leaning on my chair, his hands fisted around the back of it.
Did he feel it too? The way we were losing something we never really had?