Page 20 of Executive Privilege (Event Horizons Agency #1)

"I'm suggesting that maybe you unconsciously look for reasons to distrust people when they get too close."

Nicholas is quiet for a long moment, his dark eyes searching my face. "Is that what you think? That I created a crisis to avoid dealing with feelings?"

"I think you're terrified of being abandoned, so you push people away before they can leave you. I think you'd rather be alone than risk trusting someone who might disappoint you."

"And where is this psychological analysis coming from?"

I take a deep breath, knowing what I'm about to say will change everything between us. "I met with Victoria Sterling an hour ago."

The words hit Nicholas like a physical blow. All the color drains from his face, and he sinks into his desk chair like his legs won't support him.

"You what?"

"She contacted me. Said there were things I needed to understand about you before I got in too deep."

"And you believed her."

"I listened to her. There's a difference."

Nicholas runs his hands through his hair, and I can see him fighting some internal battle. "What did say to you?"

"That you used her for professional gain and then destroyed her reputation when she called you on it. That you pursue women for business advantage and discard them when they're no longer useful."

"And you believe that's what I'm doing to you?"

Nicholas stares at me for a long moment, something raw and desperate in his expression. Then he reaches into his desk drawer and pulls out a thick file folder.

"This is everything about Victoria Sterling," he says, setting the folder on his desk. "Security reports, client interaction logs, communications records. Everything that proves she used our relationship to steal proprietary information and sell it to competitors."

"Why are you showing me this?"

"Because I want you to understand what really happened. Not her version, not my defensive reactions, but the documented truth."

I open the folder and start reading. What I find is a comprehensive record of Victoria's activities during her relationship with Nicholas—accessing files she shouldn't have had, meeting with competitors during times when she claimed to be working late, communications that clearly show her passing Event Horizons' strategies to rival agencies.

"She was stealing from you," I say, looking up at him.

"From the beginning. The relationship, the intimacy, all of it was designed to gain access to confidential information."

"And when you found out?"

"I confronted her. She denied everything, said I was paranoid and emotionally damaged. Then she tried to turn it around—accused me of using her for professional gain, said I was a manipulative sociopath who couldn't maintain real relationships."

"So you had her investigated."

"I had the security breach investigated. Victoria's involvement became clear during the process."

I continue reading, and the evidence is overwhelming. Victoria Sterling systematically stole information from Event Horizons over six months. The financial damage was significant enough to nearly destroy the company.

"Nicholas," I say quietly, "why didn't you tell me this before?"

"Because talking about Victoria means talking about the fact that I was completely fooled by someone I thought I loved. It means admitting that my judgment about people is so fundamentally flawed that I can't trust my own instincts."

"So instead of risking that vulnerability, you assume everyone who gets close to you is planning to betray you."

"Yes."

The simple admission is heartbreaking. "Even me."

"Especially you."

"Why especially me?"

Nicholas looks at me with an expression that's completely unguarded for the first time since I've known him.

"Because you matter more than she ever did.

Because what I feel for you is more real than anything I felt for Victoria.

Because losing you would destroy me in a way that losing her never could. "

The confession hangs between us, raw and honest and terrifying in its completeness.

"So you'd rather push me away than risk finding out whether I'm genuine."

"I'd rather protect both of us from the inevitable disappointment."

"What if it's not inevitable? What if some people are actually capable of loyalty and love and all the things you've convinced yourself don't exist?"

"What if they're not?"

"Then you'll be exactly where you are now—alone and safe and convinced that isolation is better than vulnerability. But at least you'll know you tried."

Nicholas stares at me for a long moment, and I can see the war playing out in his expression. Fear versus hope. Self-protection versus the possibility of genuine connection.

"Sadie," he says finally, "I'm terrified that if I let you in, really let you in, you'll see everything that's broken about me and decide I'm not worth the effort."

"And I'm terrified that you're so convinced I'm going to leave that you'll push me away before I get the chance to prove I'll stay."

"So what do we do?"

"We take the leap," I say, moving around his desk to stand directly in front of him. "We trust each other."

"I don't know how to do that."

"Yes, you do. You do know how to trust, Nicholas."

He reaches for my hands.

"What's this?" He takes the business card I was holding and reads it.

"Victorial Sterling. Manager, Communications. Hartwell Industries."

I smile. "She was trying to put a wedge between us. And it almost worked. I'm fairly certain she was behind all of this. Trying to gaslight you–and me too this time."

"She's working there? I didn't even know it. Looks like she's dropped down a few notches on the professional scale."

"But she's still out to get you, it seems." I smile. "It's a good thing you have my pattern detection skills in your corner."

Nicholas looks dumbfounded. "No kidding. You're amazing, Sadie."

Nicholas pulls me closer, until I'm standing between his legs and his hands are framing my face. "I'm sorry. For everything. Falling in love with you scared the hell out of me and I went a little crazy."

The confession steals my breath away.

When he kisses me, it's different from every kiss before. Not desperate or hungry or driven by physical need, but soft and reverent.

"Take me to your hotel," I say against his lips.

"The hotel?"

Nicholas's eyes darken with understanding and desire.

The drive to the Four Seasons is charged with anticipation.

Nicholas's hand rests on my thigh, his thumb tracing patterns through my skirt.

In the elevator to his suite, we don't touch, but the tension between us is so thick I can barely breathe.

We're both tapping our feet, staring at the doors to open.

The moment his hotel door closes behind us, we're on each other. "I want you," Nicholas breathes against my neck as he backs me toward the bedroom. "God, Sadie, I want you so much it terrifies me."

We strip away our clothes and find the bed. No teasing. No preamble. Just fire.

Nicholas grabs me like he can’t wait another second and thrusts inside me in one hard, claiming stroke. I cry out, my back arching as the shock of pleasure tears through me. His hands dig into my hips, anchoring me as if he’s afraid I’ll slip away.

“Fuck, you feel unreal,” he growls, his voice ragged. “So tight, so perfect. I can’t—” His words break off into a curse as he drives deeper, harder, setting a brutal rhythm that has the headboard slamming against the wall.

My nails rake down his shoulders, clinging to him like he’s the only thing keeping me tethered to earth. “I’m yours,” I gasp, breathless and wild. “Completely yours. And you’re mine.”

“Yours,” he snarls, his control unraveling. “Every damn piece of me.”

He slams into me over and over, every thrust rougher than the last, the bed shaking beneath us as I claw at the sheets, gasping for breath.

His grip is bruising on my hips, dragging me back to meet him, filling me so deep it’s almost too much, but I never want it to stop.

Every ragged curse, every guttural sound he makes only pushes me higher until I’m breaking apart around him, screaming, and he’s right there with me, pounding through it like he needs to fuck me into the mattress and make sure I’ll never forget who I belong to.

Another climax rips through me at the thought, my body clenching around him in waves that won’t stop. Nicholas follows with a groan torn straight from his chest, driving into me one last time as he shudders apart.

We collapse in a tangle, our breathing harsh, our bodies trembling from the aftershocks. There’s nothing neat about it—just raw, messy satisfaction that leaves us both marked and utterly claimed by each other.