The reaction was immediate, unwanted, and after a second, Lucian could see the spark in Cassandra’s eyes, the flash that she struggled to suppress. Use her? He could do that, had thought of all the ways how he could, how she could use him, but now wasn’t the time or place, though the insistent and increasing throb of his instant erection made him regret that.
Cassandra cleared her throat, again bringing Lucian back to the present, and when he gazed at her, he knew she still had more to say.
“What, Cassie?” he asked, his voice edged with question and the certainty he wouldn’t like her answer, the intense sexiness of the moment ebbing.
“I need input on personnel decisions,” she said.
The heated moment passed in a blink, fast enough that Lucian almost forgot it had happened. Cassandra sensed the shift too, and Lucian could see her calculating her next response. He hadn’t said anything, but she knew she had touched a topic Lucian considered nonnegotiable.
She knew that, but Lucian would make the point plain anyway. “And here I was thinking we were making progress,” he said nonchalantly. But despite how he may have sounded, he felt the scowl twisting his features, felt the pressure burning at his fingers as he gripped the table. Yet another illustration of how she could so quickly throw him off course.
“My guys are off the table, Cassandra. No one, not even you, has any input on that,” he said.
“As—”
He cut her off. “I don’t care what your position is, don’t care that my brother hired you, and I don’t care who you report to. My team is off the table.”
The tightness in her jaw, the slight narrowing of her eyes, the way she leaned forward, setting her shoulders in a defensive hunch, looking ready to pounce, told him she didn’t intend to let this go.
Her tenacity was one of her most annoying traits—and one of her most appealing, but even his admiration for her, his attraction to her, didn’t change the fact his team was his, and his alone. Nor did her displeasure. In this he would not relent. The team was the thing that made Silver Industries run, the trust between them something that couldn’t be bought but instead could only be nurtured through time and experience. And Lucian wouldn’t screw with it, upset that rare and delicate balance for any reason. He’d shut Silver Industries down first.
After a long moment, Cassandra nodded faintly, her lids dropping and some of the tension leaving her jaw, a signal that the subject was tabled for now, though Lucian expected the topic would come up again.
“Your team, your responsibility,” she said.
“Mine,” he said, some of the tension leaving him a moment later. After another moment of eying Cassandra, he asked, “Who are you worried about in particular?”
“All of them,” she said.
He laughed. “Lacking your usual precision, Cassie,” he said.
She frowned slightly. “Well, since you asked, you need to keep an eye on Marcus. Adam too,” she added.
Lucian shrugged. “Have you met Saint? With my eye on him or not, he’ll do whatever he wants.”
“That fills me with confidence, Lucian,” she said sarcastically.
“Happy to be of service,” he replied.
She frowned deeper. “I reserve the right to revisit this topic,” she said.
“I had a feeling you would. My guys will still be off-limits,” Lucian replied.
Cassandra stayed silent but the little tilt of her head was a promise of what was to come. Lucian didn’t look forward to that day. Going toe-to-toe with Cassandra on matters of vital importance while he did everything in his power not to ogle her tits took a lot out of him.
She looked at her watch. “It’s getting late. Until next time,” she said.
She gave him a terse nod, stood, and then turned to exit without giving him another glance.
After the door closed again, Lucian felt himself relaxing further, giving himself over to the thoughts of Cassandra and this little dance of theirs.
When his brother had first admitted the seriousness of Silver Industries’ debt and the necessity of taking on shareholders, Lucian had been upset but understood that they’d had no other choice. And then Damien had told him that shareholder money came with all kinds of strings, one of the main ones being a full-time shareholder liaison who would be embedded in the company.
Lucian’s reaction had been immediate and intense. Bureaucracy had been part of the reason he’d left the military and gone into private work, so the idea of such oversight, having a person inside the company who wasn’t fully on board, had been unthinkable. But Damien had made it clear they had no other options and tried to reassure him he’d selected the best possible person. Lucian had been irritated but determined to be fair. After all, it wasn’t her fault she was caught in the middle of Damien’s shit storm.
So he’d planned to do his best to be as accommodating as he could be, open, and after they went through the getting-to-know-you phrase and Lucian had figured out if he could trust her, he might even consider listening to her.
Cassandra had had none of it.
She’d shown up on her very first day, prim, proper, and oh so fuckable, enough to distract usually focused Lucian. Or it had been until, mere minutes after their introduction, she had proceeded to tell Lucian everything she’d thought needed to change at Silver Industries and then proceeded to push hard to see those changes come to fruition.
And damned if she hadn’t gotten almost all of what she wanted. Reports, systems, processes all implemented at Cassandra’s insistence. Even the very table he now sat at was her idea, the beloved air hockey table that used to occupy this space now relegated to the break room. It had taken six months for the guys to finally let him live that down.
Yet, despite how much she’d gotten, two years later, she was still pushing.
And two years later, Lucian was still reacting to her, even more so than he had in the beginning. She had absolutely no trouble asking for what she wanted, not relenting until she got it.
That persistence was enough to drive him insane, but it wasn’t the sole source of Lucian’s discomfort. No, that irritating desire for her that had gripped him from the first, and two years later still hadn’t let him go, was responsible for almost all of it, something that the steel-hard erection that tented his pants wouldn’t let him forget.
Chapter Four
“You’re still here, Cassandra?” Sloan called late that evening.
Cassandra looked up at the sound of her friend’s voice and saw the other woman hovering in the doorway of Cassandra’s office, eyes wide with curiosity and a bit of concern.
“Yeah. Just finishing a few things up,” Cassandra said, gripping her pen a little tighter.
“Seems to be happening a bit more often lately,” Sloan said, though Cassandra could see through the casual front.
“The team keeps me busy,” Cassandra said in response, followed by a quick giggle.
Sloan gave Cassandra a soft but knowing smile, and then looked at her watch, apparently choosing not to push the issue, though Cassandra knew this would not be overlooked. Still, she was grateful because having to convince Sloan would be difficult, if not impossible, and if her friend had pushed, Cassandra didn’t trust herself not to confess she’d been staying late trying to avoid Lucian.
It was bad enough she had to admit it to herself, but those moments in the conference room had been playing on a continuous loop. Not the ones where Lucian had adamantly opposed her. It would be so much easier if that was the case. Instead, she was busily thinking about his gaze on her skin, how his eyes had lingered on her breasts, how she wished she’d had the nerve to cross the room and take him up on the offer he hadn’t made. And if she’d seen him again that day, she hadn’t been sure what she might do.
“Make sure you get home in time to enjoy at least some of your evening,” Sloan said, final proof of her assent, at least for the moment.
Cassandra smiled and nodded. “I will. Good night, Sloan,” she said.
> “Good night, Cassandra,” the other woman replied, and then she walked away.
Cassandra listened to the sound of Sloan’s receding steps but made no move to leave as she considered.
Lucian was probably gone for the day, and the halls were silent. It was the perfect time to make her escape. She’d done enough for the day, and though there were always things that needed to be taken care of, there was nothing that couldn’t wait. So she should leave, but still she lingered.
And she knew why.
While she told herself she’d hidden away in her office in hopes of avoiding Lucian, she really lingered with the hope she might see him again. Embarrassing but truthful. She wanted to see him again, even if they argued, that thrill of being near him would make it worth it.
Ugh. Get up, Cassandra.
Her voice in her head gave her the push she needed to finally stand and gather her things. She had a home she loved, and she would damn well enjoy it instead of sitting there desperate for a glimpse of a man who didn’t want or value her.
Resolved, Cassandra stuffed a few papers in her briefcase and then grabbed her purse, moving briskly, hoping if she projected the air of carefree confidence she wanted to convey, she’d eventually begin to feel it.
As she moved through the hall, her eyes sharp for a peek of Lucian, her hands didn’t shake, but that was because she gripped her briefcase so tightly. Her knees didn’t wobble, but that was because she put every ounce of her focus and energy into walking confidently, striding as though she had not a care in the world, like she wasn’t gripped by the ridiculous but powerful need to see him.
And it worked too, her heart, which had started to speed, slowing, her grip on the briefcase handle loosening when the elevator doors began to slide closed.
When the elevator stopped in the garage and the doors opened, Cassandra stepped out of the car, the clack of her heels on the concrete soothingly familiar as she made her way to her vehicle. She’d been later than usual this morning, which had meant she was relegated to one of the farthest spots in the lot, and as she took the long trek, she noticed, and not for the first time, how dark the garage was.
Cassandra was pretty levelheaded, but she’d never been a fan of the parking garage late at night. She wasn’t worried, not really, but there was a certain amount of uneasiness that came with being in the deserted place all alone. Still, she was more than capable of walking the three hundred feet to her car and began to do so, albeit a little more quickly than she would have ordinarily.
When she finally reached her car, she breathed a sigh of relief and unlocked the car door. She deposited her purse and briefcase on the backseat and headed to the driver’s side when her eyes landed on the front tire.
The very obviously flat front tire.
“Shit!” she said, barely holding back the urge to kick the stupid tire.
She looked at the car and noticed how dusty her vehicle looked under the dim lights in the garage. Maybe she would get it detailed on Sunday. Not that thinking about detailing would get her any closer to driving home.
“Ugh!” she said, knowing she sounded insane and not caring.
She rounded to the back of her car to the trunk, deciding she’d change the tire herself. She didn’t relish the thought of being on the filthy garage floor, but she could change the tire and doing so would save her a ton of time. She reached for the trunk, but something stilled her hand and sent her mind racing.
Had she unlocked the door?
She must have. She tried to think back, her mind conjuring the satisfying click of the door unlocking, but Cassandra couldn’t say for sure she had unlocked the door. And if she hadn’t, why was it open?
Cassandra took a step back from the car, not really noticing that she moved until she was several paces away. A creeping unease began to crawl along her skin, set off a tingling sensation at the base of her neck, and set her heart to beating. She turned and began backing away from the car, determined to go back to the elevator. Roadside service it was.
When she reached the elevator, she anxiously pounded at the Up button. The panic seemed to intensify at once, her reaction so strong, her gaze wildly bounced around the garage. She pushed the button again. If the elevator didn’t come soon, she was going to ditch waiting and take the stairs because she needed out of this garage.
She pushed the Up button again, mercifully relieved when she heard the ding and then the doors began to open.
She kept her eyes on her vehicle as she quickly shuffled backward.
Directly into a human wall.
* * *
“Argh!”
Cassandra’s choked-out, muffled scream as she barreled into the elevator and into Lucian’s arms was only slightly less surprising than the shock of her warm body pressed against his, her curves a perfect fit as he’d known they would be. But, choosing not to focus on how right Cassandra felt in his arms, against his body, Lucian instead reached for her quickly, closing his arms around hers, trapping her against his chest.
She went still and then an instant later she started thrashing.
“Let me go!” she yelled, rocking against him, twisting and stepping on his foot, trying everything to get away.
He paused a moment, grateful he wore boots, and then Lucian tightened his hold instinctively, which only seemed to make her twist harder and yell louder.
“Cassie! It’s me,” he said, trying to keep his voice urgent but not further scare her.
She redoubled her efforts, frantically trying to break his grasp, but he held her tighter, his alarm rising with each passing second.
“Let me go!” she screamed.
He held her tighter and then quickly surveyed the garage. Cassandra hadn’t fully entered the elevator, so the doors started to close and then popped back open, giving Lucian a view of the place. Everything looked in order, and Lucian, who was trained to spot threats, saw nothing.
Which left the question of what she was afraid of, one he knew she wouldn’t answer yet, couldn’t, not when she was as terrified as she seemed now.
He pulled her back into the elevator, finally letting the doors close and earning him another foot stomp. He ignored it and held her even tighter, then leaned close and pressed his lips against her ear. Lucian had never been this close to her, felt the satin skin behind her ear or smelled her sweetness so fully, but while this moment was one he had no doubt he would replay, he focused on calming her.
“Cassandra, it’s me. It’s Lucian,” he said, though this time his voice was a near whisper, so quiet that it was nearly lost in her screams and the sound of her ineffective thrashing against his arms.
But the whisper seemed to work. She stopped thrashing and twisted her head to look at him.
When Lucian glimpsed her eyes, it was like a kick in the gut. Her eyes were unlike he’d ever seen them, wide, shiny, almost liquid with fear.
That kick intensified. This terrified creature wasn’t Cassandra, not in any way he’d ever seen her.
“What happened?” he said, his training taking over even though his mind was still reeling from the sheer terror he’d seen on her face, from the overwhelming need to protect her.
“Cassandra,” he said, his voice still a whisper but edged with an order now.
She shook her head. Looked at him and then toward the still-closed elevator doors.
Lucian had been so preoccupied, he hadn’t even noticed the elevator had gone up, but as the doors opened, the building’s lobby was revealed, empty and dark, yes, but not threatening at all. When Cassandra looked out into the lobby, her eyes were sharp as she seemed to take in every square inch of it.
By increments she relaxed, her body, which had been tense, melting into his as she sighed in what could only be called relief. She stayed against him for long moments, moments that tested Lucian’s ability not to respond to the warm woman in his arms, suppress the desire to tighten his arms around her.
But the moment was short-lived. She blinked once, twice, and then she
stood a little straighter, the first sign that she was getting back to herself. When she twisted again, he dropped his arms and kept his features schooled to hide his disappointment at no longer having her near.
She took two steps back, practically hugging the elevator wall, and though she stood tall, had recovered her usually controlled expression, Lucian could still see the haunted look in her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she said, swallowing hard.
Lucian couldn’t recall Cassandra having ever said those words to him, but the moment didn’t have nearly the impact it would have normally. Couldn’t have the same impact because Lucian was only concerned with a single thing, and that was what had shaken his unshakable Cassandra so thoroughly.
He almost asked her as much but he stopped himself before he revealed the depth of his own emotion. The words almost came out, but they didn’t, and instead he asked the other question that plagued his mind.
“Cassie, I don’t want to hear how sorry you are. I want to know what happened.” His voice grated out of his throat, more revealing than he wanted it to be but only barely touching the depth of his feeling for her.
A robust shake of her head and the way she tilted her body, standing even straighter, told him she had no intention of answering his question and also made her look almost like her usual stubborn self.
Almost but not quite.
Cassandra was not a quitter, though, so she said, “I’m sorry. I just—I just had a little fright. My tire’s flat, but I’m too tired to wait for roadside. I was just going to call a cab.”
His rage was instant, so hot and intense, he could no longer stand still. He shifted, the elevator car larger than most others but feeling far more confining than he could handle at the moment. After quickly punching the Open Door button, he moved closer to her, eyes locked on hers.
Were it not for the shadows that still shrouded her eyes, the tiny hint of vulnerability he saw and knew she so desperately wanted to hide, he would have yelled his anger and frustration. “A little fright?” She’d been in a complete panic, and now she was trying to hide it, didn’t trust him enough to admit it or ask for his help.
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