Page 17 of His to Control

“About everything.” He steps closer, forcing me back against the desk. “Your calm demeanor. Your casual dismissal of danger. This whole performance.”

“Performance?” I meet his gaze, refusing to be intimidated by his proximity. “I didn’t realize existing in my own workspace required an audience review.”

His free hand comes to rest on the desk beside my hip, caging me in. “Drop the act, Eve. You’re good, but not that good.”

“If you’re done with the interrogation—” I try to slide away, but he shifts, blocking my escape.

“We’re just getting started.” His voice drops lower, sending a shiver down my spine. “Tell me what you’re really looking for.”

I tilt my chin up, our faces inches apart. “I already told you. Notes.”

“Notes.” He leans closer, his breath warm against my cheek. “Important enough to risk coming back here?”

My heart pounds against my ribs. He’s too close, reading too much in my reactions. I force a smile. “Some of us actually need to work for a living.”

“Work.” His eyes drop to my lips before meeting mine again. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

“What would you call it?”

His grip on my wrist loosens, but his fingers trail up my arm, leaving fire in their wake. “I’d call it a dangerous game.”

“Everything’s a game to you, isn’t it?” I press my palms against the desk behind me, needing stability.

“Only when my opponent is worth playing with.” His mouth hovers near my ear. “And you, Eve, are definitely worth playing with.”

The heat of his body seeps through my clothes, making it hard to think. “I’m not one of your puzzles to solve.”

“No.” His hand slides to my waist, firm and possessive. “You’re much more interesting than that.”

I should push him away. Should maintain distance. Instead, I find myself swaying closer, drawn into his orbit like a moth to a flame. “Interesting enough to make you forget why we’re here?”

“I never forget anything about you.” His fingers flex against my hip. “Including how good you are at deflection.”

His fingers dig into my hip, and my breath catches. The desk presses against my back, but all I can focus on is the heat of his body, the intensity in his dark eyes. Every survival instinct screams at me to pull away, to maintain distance, but my muscles won’t cooperate.

“Last chance to tell me what you’re hiding.” His voice drops lower, rougher.

I wet my lips, watching his gaze track the movement. “I’m not hiding anything.”

“Liar.” The word comes out as a growl.

My pulse races. Whether it’s from fear or anticipation, I can’t tell anymore. “Prove it.”

His hand slides up my back, and suddenly, there’s no space between us. The expensive fabric of his suit brushes against me, and I can feel the tension in every muscle of his body.

“I don’t need to prove anything.” His breath fans across my lips. “Your body betrays you every time.”

“Does it?” I arch against him slightly, turning the tables. “Or are you seeing what you want to see?”

A muscle ticks in his jaw. “Always pushing, aren’t you?”

“Always trying to control everything, aren’t you?”

His fingers thread through my hair, tightening just enough to tilt my head back. “Someone has to.”

The warning bells in my head fade under a wave of heat. This is dangerous—more dangerous than the threats lurking outside. But as his mouth hovers over mine, I can’t remember why I should care.

“Control this,” I whisper and close the distance between us.