Page 18 of Whisper

Stubborn woman. “It’s not an order. It’s a tactical necessity.”

“Everything’s tactical with you, isn’t it?”

“When it comes to keeping you alive, everything I tell you to do, you consider it an order and obey instantly. Don’t ask questions. Do what I say when I say it.”

Her breath catches slightly, and something shifts in her expression. Despite her verbal protests, her body language tells adifferent story—the way her lips part, the slight dilation of her pupils, the unconscious lean forward.

She responds to authority.

To dominance.

Shit.

Interesting as hell, considering I prefer women who submit in bed. The thought of having her underneath me, responding to commands with breathless obedience instead of endless questions, sends heat straight to my groin.

Wouldn’t that be fun?

Fuck. Lock it down.

The metal surface provides marginally more warmth than concrete, but not enough to matter.

“There. Happy now?”

Her shoulder brushes mine as she settles into position, and the contact sends electricity straight through my system. She smells even better up close—vanilla and something distinctly feminine that makes me want to bury my face in her hair.

Professional distance. Maintain professional fucking distance.

But sitting beside me isn’t how you conserve body heat effectively. The concrete floor will continue leaching warmth from her body through her jeans.

“Better.” I lean forward and wrap my arm around her shoulders, pulling her basically into my lap. “Get your ass off the concrete.”

She squirms and tries to push away. “What are you doing?”

“Body heat conservation. Stop fighting me.”

She continues to struggle against my grip, and my jaw clenches with frustration.

“That’s an order.”

Immediately, she goes still. Her body relaxes against mine, that unconscious response to authority surfacing again.Another tell. Another piece of evidence that Dr. Eliza Wren responds to dominance whether she admits it or not.

Which is going to be a really big fucking problem, because now she’s sitting directly on my lap, her ass pressed against my cock, which is starting to respond to having a beautiful woman positioned exactly where I want her.

“How is this going to help you conserve body heat?”

“Don’t worry about me. I can handle it.”

She settles against me, and some of the tension leaves her shoulders as warmth starts transferring between us. Her brain’s working again, processing the situation.

“Phoenix is a robot that kills people.”

“AI. Not a robot.”

“Thank you for that crucial distinction.” Sarcasm drips from every word. “I feel much better knowing it’s artificial intelligence trying to kill me instead of mechanical assassins.”

Despite everything, the corner of my mouth twitches. She’s got a sharp tongue when she’s irritated.

“Cooper?”