Page 3 of The Chief (Those (Damn!) Texas Dantes #3)

She blinked. That one cut closer than she liked.

And that... annoyed her. Her expression didn’t falter, but something behind her eyes sharpened.

She leaned back, keeping her tone light but her gaze locked on his.

She let out a shaky breath, more laugh than exhale.

“Do you always flirt like a hostile takeover? Because I can’t tell if I’m supposed to be seduced or sold for parts. ”

Cade’s mouth didn’t move, but something flickered in his eyes. Not amusement. Interest. Measured. Focused.

He shifted from his stance against the desk, just enough to alter the air between them. Not a tilt, not a lean, but a recalibration. Like she’d just thrown a move on the board he hadn’t predicted, and now he was rebalancing the entire strategy around it. ”Would it matter if I seduced you?”

Elise’s stomach flipped. Not in fear. In a maddening, magnetic pull she’d never experienced before.

It started in her spine and spread like smoke beneath her skin.

He looked at her like he knew things she hadn’t said yet.

Like he’d already mapped her pressure points and was just deciding which one to press.

She shifted in her seat, not because she was uncomfortable, but because staying suddenly seemed dangerous. Too vulnerable. Too seen.

She forced a shrug, light, airy, deflective. “Only if I’m negotiating from the losing side.”

“Are you?”

She paused. Let the silence stretch just long enough to make it seem deliberate.

Then she smiled, wide and warm and utterly fake. “You’ll have to tell me when it’s over.”

This was not going well. Not at all. Time to change tactics. Maybe if she took a page out of Katrina’s playbook. She leaned forward, showing a touch of cleavage. ”Do we have to talk the whole time? Or...”

She let the suggestion hang, letting her lashes lower just enough to look inviting, not obvious. Testing him, the way Katrina had, but with softness instead of spark, like a secret instead of a dare.

She angled her torso ever so slightly, a fluid adjustment that suggested interest without overt invitation, the kind of lean that made men lean in too, even if they didn’t mean to.

An invitation wrapped in practiced carelessness.

She didn’t pout. Didn’t preen. Just let her mouth part slightly, breath shallow, as if the idea of kissing him had only just occurred to her, and she wasn’t sure if it was brilliant or stupid.

She knew he’d see through it.

That was the point.

Cade didn’t move.

For a second.

Then he did.

He reached across the space between them, fingers sliding into her hair with a possessive certainty, and cupped the back of her neck with the kind of control that didn’t ask permission.

It claimed. His touch wasn’t gentle. It was purposeful.

Absolute. Heat rolled through her in a tidal wave as he drew her up and out of her chair, securing her against him like he already knew how she’d taste, like he’d been thinking about it longer than either of them wanted to admit.

Their mouths met.

And everything detonated.

It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t tentative.

It was a collision between two people who didn’t understand each other but couldn’t stop reaching anyway. Hot. Sharp. Maddeningly precise.

His mouth slanted over hers, deepening the kiss until it was no longer a tease but a demand. One hand fisted in her hair, the other gripping her waist, dragging her closer until there wasn’t space left to think.

Elise didn’t resist. Couldn’t. Her hands were on his chest, then around his shoulders, then buried in his hair, pulling him closer, tasting clout and want and the danger of a man who held back nothing.

She moaned against his mouth, and that was it. Something inside him snapped. He growled low, almost soundless, and swiveled to press her back against the edge of the desk, lifting her like she weighed nothing, setting her there with startling ease.

Her legs parted instinctively, welcoming him in, dress bunching around her hips as his body settled between her thighs.

The kiss turned feral, tongue, teeth, a clash of hunger and heat that left her dizzy.

Cade devoured her like he had every right.

Like he’d already decided she was his and he was only confirming it with his mouth.

It was reckless. Consuming. A fuse lit straight to her spine. Her body responded like it had been waiting for this exact kind of chaos, wild and unchecked and completely, blindingly physical. She clung to him like he was gravity and she was mid-fall.

The heat of his mouth, the strength in his hands, the impossible closeness of their bodies, it was all too much and nowhere near enough. And so good she almost forgot why she’d come in the first place, almost forgot her name, almost forgot the world beyond the taste of him.

By the time he pulled back, they were both breathing hard, and her fingers were trembling where they clutched his jacket. She didn’t recognize her voice when she whispered, “Holy hell.”

Cade’s expression hadn’t changed much. But his eyes, those fathomless greenish-blue eyes, had darkened to something feral.

His hands were still on her, large and steady, fingers curled with possession even in stillness.

And Elise knew, with a terrifying, thrilling certainty, that if she so much as shifted or breathed differently, he’d pull her back in and drag her under again.

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to stop him.

No. That was a lie. She knew exactly what she wanted. That was the problem.

She absolutely, positively, most definitely would not stop him.

When he let her go, her breath was gone.

Her thoughts, too. Her body buzzed, nerves lit up like she’d chewed electricity.

She sat there on her brother’s desk blinking, as if her brain hadn’t quite caught up with what had just happened.

As if the room had tilted and no one had warned her.

Her lips tingled. Her pulse still galloped.

And somewhere deep inside, far beneath the heat and the chaos, was a single unshakable truth.

She wanted more.

And Cade? He looked exactly the same.

Like the whole thing had been a data point.

But for Elise, it was something else entirely. She hadn’t just liked it.

She’d needed it.

She cleared her throat and gave him a dazed, breathy laugh. “That was... surprisingly conclusive.”

Cade didn’t smile. “You said you studied for minor social disasters. Consider this one of them.”

She tilted her head, her wits finally returning to her. “Is that a warning, Mr. Dante?”

“An observation. You seem far less idiotic than you pretend to be.”

Elise fought the urge to squirm under his scrutiny. Her act had cracked, just a little, and he’d already sensed the fault line. Damn.

She tilted her head again, her voice syrupy and bright. “Well, you seem far more charming than you pretend to be.”

His gaze didn’t soften. “I’m not pretending.”

“Ah,” she said with a small shrug, “so this is you on a good day.”

Cade leaned back, gaze fixed on her like he was watching a chessboard and waiting for her to blink wrong. “You’re usually underestimated.”

“And you’re not?” she shot back, then immediately plastered on a lazy smile. “Oops. Did I say that out loud?”

He didn’t reply. Just watched.

Elise froze. She needed to walk this back. Right now. She straightened slightly, her mouth opening to toss out another line, something flippant, ridiculous. Safe. But nothing came.

Because he was still watching her. Still not smiling. Still tracking every breath she took like it was ammunition he could use.

The air between them had cooled, but her skin still burned.

He smoothed down the front of his jacket like he hadn’t just kissed her senseless. Like none of it had meant a damn thing.

“Come on,” he said.

She blinked. “What?”

“We’re done.”

He walked to the door, opened it, and gestured for her to go ahead. She moved past him on shaky legs, doing everything she could to hold her head high though she still tasted him on her lips.

Leif stood in the hallway, arms crossed.

Cade didn’t so much as glance at Elise. Just pointed at Petra.

“That one.”

Then he turned and walked away.

Elise stood frozen in place, her world tilted sideways. Her heart slammed against her ribs, but she didn’t show it.

She just smiled.

And lied to everyone, including herself.

“Well. That wasn’t humiliating at all.”