Page 35 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part Two

“Damn,” I murmur, the words slipping out before I can stop them. “You still smell good.”

Her body jerks like I slapped her instead of complimenting her.

For a flickering second, her eyes glaze over, and she looks down, her mouth trembling as if she might cry.

It kills me—not being able to gather her close, kiss her forehead, whisper I’ve got her now, and I’ll never let anything touch her again.

But when she lifts her head, the vulnerability is gone, erased so fast it almost feels like a hallucination.

ThisLivsits in front of me now, not Shae.

Polished. Cold. Unshakeable.

“You have sixty seconds to state your business,” she says, her voice clipped and lethal, her wrist still caught in my hand like a tether I’m too stubborn to release.

“The problem has to do with your business.”

“My business?” She delivers this line with zero emotion, almost robotic.

I release her and reach for the encrypted tablet I placed on the other side of the table prior to Shae’s arrival.

“Yes, and the Keystone acquisition.”

“The Keystone acquisition?”

“Are you just going to repeat everything I say?”

“I—” Shae clears her throat and shakes her head. “What the hell does your little Boy Scout project have to do with me? You’re wasting my time.”

“It has everything to do with you, Sweetness.”

“Don’t call me that!” she shouts, leaning forward so abruptly that one of the buttons on her top pops open, showing the edge of the black lacy bra I saw her prancing around her condo in this morning.

“Don’tevercall me that, Storm.” Her face hardens, and I catch a glimpse of the powerful CEO I’ve heard she’s become.

“Understood,” I grind out, breathing her in. “But here’s the problem. The company I’ve been following is connected to the one you’re about to buy.”

Her brows furrow, and she snatches the iPad from my hand when I extend it out to her.

Her finger glides up the screen several times, and I lock in on the elegant stretch of her index finger—the red nails trimmed into neat, short ovals.

The info on her screen isn’t falsified, but rather, manipulated. Axel put together the dossier in Shae’s hands. Once she sees the blood money she’s about to roll around in, she’ll back out.

It only makes sense.

“Where did you get this information?” she asks, not looking up from the screen.

“Unimportant,” I reply.

“I say what’s important when it comes to my company,” she throws back, and hell if I don’t get hotter when she drops that bossy command on the table.

Yes, ma’am.

I clear my throat to focus, really focus, on what Shae needs to know.

Bypassing her question, I lay the horrors out for her. Real horrors.

“The people connected to Keystone are in some seriously deviant shit. Human trafficking, drugs, weapons of war?—”