Page 56 of Ruthless Wars

“Why did you want Steele Holdings so badly?”

Skeptically, I look up, focusing on her eyes as an uncomfortable heat rises from my chest that has nothing to do with her commando performance.

Either accidentally or on purpose, Simone discovered a very well-guarded secret about my interest in Steele Holdings. Suspicious and tamping down my rising fury, I stay calm, letting it go until I know for sure how she knows that.

She picks up on my expression. “You paid way too much for Steele Holdings. Comparatively, nearly double, when you paid below street value for the rest. Why?”

I buried those numbers in a complicated formula that averaged everything out. Either Simone’s been digging, or she’s just sharp as shit. Which, despite the uncomfortable beaver peek, is the actual reason I hired her.

“Just do what I’ve asked, Simone.”

“You’ve got it, boss. Is there ...” She stands, placing her fingertips on my desk and leaning over, practically spilling out of her low-cut blouse. “Anything else I can do for you?”

Seriously?

I’m shocked because first, I’m her boss, and this is totally inappropriate. And second, last I heard, she had a date with Austin. Which must have fizzled because he didn’t bring her to Big Sur.

But that still leaves us with the first option.

“Nope,” I say in the most definitive tone possible. I cross my arms over my chest, determined to properly convey, without a doubt, don’t waste your time—I’ve got my own temptress.

“Suit yourself,” Simone says in a sultry tone I’m pretty sure she’s never used with me until this very moment. She stands and walks out just as Allison is heading in.

“Hey, Uncle Coop. You wanted to see me?”

“Before we talk business, how’s Gabe?”

Okay, I don’t really want to hear about Gabe. But Simone’s in the hallway, still within earshot, and the last thing she needs to hear is any discussion about Steele Holdings.

I make my way around the desk, then rest half my butt on the edge of it as I invite Allison to have a seat. Instantly, she’s going a mile a minute about the one thing occupying her time other than work. I smile, relieved that my shy niece is finally getting a life.

The tones of my phone ringing make me glance at it out of habit, but my thumb’s already postured to click it over to voice mail until I read the caller ID.

long multinational

Margot would text before she’d call ... unless it was urgent. And a corporate phone without the caller identified? I’m intrigued enough to answer.

“Sorry, Alli. I—”

Nodding her understanding, she scurries from the room, closing the door behind her.

“Coop,” I say, answering the call.

“Mr. Byrne. I need to have a word with you.”

I’d know that voice anywhere, and cock a brow, wondering if the real game has just begun. “Sure. I can be there—”

“No,” he says firmly, and the silence is awkward.

He seems to need a minute to collect his thoughts, and I stay quiet, quashing my impatience. Having this man come crawling to me has been worth every second of the wait.

“I could meet you at your office,” he finally says. “How’s six?”

“That works. See you then.”

I click off the phone, relieved that he picked a time when everyone else should be gone from the building. Still, my thoughts keep circling back to his daughter.

Margot’s not out to kill companies or send thousands to the unemployment lines. And she’s sure as hell not trying to steal something that isn’t hers.

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