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But he had.
Now she was beside him again, close enough to reach out and touch, and he couldn’t afford to. Not with this much on the line. Not when everything was threatening to come undone.
The road curved, a gentle sweep through a line of pine trees. He tapped the brakes, just enough to adjust their speed into the turn. Nothing happened. The brake pedal stayed firm beneath his foot. Unmoving. A second ticked by. Then two. He turned the wheel. No response.
The car kept going straight into the curve.
“Hang on,” he said, too calm. Both hands locked on the wheel. Muscle memory kicked in, tactical training firing through his bloodstream. No sudden moves. No panic. Find traction. Find a line. He fought the skid, tried to steer into it, but the car kept sliding. The tires must have caught an edge of ice.
The steering column groaned as he fought it, and for one terrifying second, the whole world tilted. Trees blurred. The rear fishtailed, tires skidding across frozen asphalt like they had a mind of their own.
Grace gasped softly, still and wide-eyed beside him, but she didn’t scream. Suddenly, the brakes engaged. Too suddenly. The tires snapped back into alignment with a jolt that rocked them.
Nash corrected hard, pulled them out of the slide, and eased the car into the straightaway. The tires gripped. The wheel responded. The danger was over. But his pulse hadn’t slowed. He kept both hands on the wheel. Tight. White-knuckled. Breathing through gritted teeth. Grace was silent.
She glanced over. “Ice?” she asked.
“Had to have been. You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she said, voice even. But her gaze lingered on the dashboard, her eyes as skeptical as his.
* * *
Grace tapped another command,scanning the buried files Nash had flagged. They entered OrdoTech without incident and were back in the glassed office. Grace wanted to know what he flagged, so he showed her, then vacated the seat for her to take over.
"This is what you found?" she asked, half distracted.
Nash nodded, arms crossed, watching the hallway like it might blink. "Yeah. Caught something weird in a quarterly rollup. Looked like duplicate vendors feeding off the same budget pool. Like someone was laundering security allocations through fake accounts."
"Why didn’t you follow it?"
He shrugged. "I'm not the cyber genius, Grace. I flag it. My people investigate."
"You’re just a different kind of genius..." She smiled faintly. "It’s not noise."
Nash wasn’t one to care much about compliments. They were like medals, getting something extra for just doing the job, but her comment warmed the blood in his veins with an intoxicating rush.
Her fingers flew faster now. Nash stepped closer, careful not to crowd her. He wanted to tell her she was brilliant. That watching her work was the most alive he’d felt in months. But he didn’t. He didn’t want to startle her out of this rare, steady calm.
Grace glanced at him, and he saw the flicker of purpose in her eyes. Not just fear. Not just survival.Justice.That’s what she was chasing now.
"You didn’t have the key."
She opened a nested file. “I do now,” he murmured. She was silent for a moment, then she looked at him with something fierce and certain in her eyes.
Moments later, she stiffened. "This isn't just fraud," she said softly. “This is someone hiding inside the money."
Nash felt his spine tighten. "You think that's what Caspari’s after?"
"Not just that." Her voice dropped lower. "The person behind it." A breath passed between them. Heavy. Sharp. Grace pushed back from the terminal. "We’re getting somewhere, but God, I’m famished."
Nash nodded. “Tea and a protein bar?” he asked. “Let’s go.”
“I’ll be fine for a few minutes, Nash. We’re in a secure environment, and although I know you are a testosterone-infused, alpha-male shield, I’m safe enough.”
He huffed out a laugh, “Testosterone-infused, alpha-male shield, huh?”
She blushed, and he wanted to just push her up against that glass wall and show her what that hormone did to him and how alpha male he could get.