Page 54 of Unleashed

I blinked. "Ask what?"

"Whatever it is you’ve been dying to know."

My heart hammered in my chest, and I decided to cut straight to the point. "Why did you hire me?"

Michael’s brows lifted in surprise. "That’s an odd question. I thought you’d start with something else."

I ground my teeth. "Answer it."

He sighed, leaning forward slightly. "Because you’re highly capable. You think I didn’t do my homework on you?"

I narrowed my eyes. "What do you mean by homework? Did you stalk me or something?"

Michael chuckled. "I don’t stalk. And meeting Erika at the bar that night? Pure coincidence."

"So, what? You just happened to know all about me?"

He shrugged. "Word gets around."

My pulse quickened. "So, you did seek me out."

"If I hadn’t already heard about you, I would’ve." His tone was calm, but there was something beneath it. Something possessive.

Michael's expression was tight, his jaw working as he watched me across the table. "Why?" His voice cut through the low hum of conversation around us.

I crossed my arms, leaning back in the booth. "We recently lost three engineers for different reasons."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "So, Keaton was right—you poached me."

"I didn’t poach you." He leaned forward, voice low and calm, but there was a tension there, simmering. "I took a chance and made an offer."

I raised an eyebrow. "Am I getting paid the standard, or is this special treatment?"

"The salary is standard for your experience."

I studied him, knowing he wasn’t telling me everything. "Are Stanley and Brian getting paid the same? Or less?"

"More," he said without hesitation, meeting my gaze head-on. "They’ve been with me for several years. You're... very suspicious."

Before I could retort, Rey reappeared with our drinks. I wrapped my hand around the cold martini glass, taking a long gulp. The burn of alcohol steadied me as Michael called for another round, his voice clipped.

I set the glass down and glared at him. "I have reason to be suspicious, don’t I? You act like you have feelings for me."

Michael’s lips twisted into a smile, slow and dangerous. "I do," he admitted, his voice dropping a notch, "and I know it’s inappropriate, but I can’t help it. You’re... a package."

I nearly choked on my drink, coughing as the liquid burned down my throat. Michael moved fast, sliding closer and pattingmy back. His touch lingered, the heat of his hand against my skin causing something to stir inside me.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concern flickering across his face as his hand pressed gently between my shoulder blades.

I waved him off, still coughing. "No," I wheezed, managing a small laugh. "In a minute, I’m going to need tequila shots."

His eyes darkened with amusement. "Why is this a problem for you? I’m attractive—if I do say so myself. I put the toilet seat down after I pee, I don’t chew with my mouth open, and I’m... relatively wealthy."

I snorted, shaking my head. "Relatively wealthy? That’s bullshit, Michael. You’re loaded."

He chuckled, not bothering to deny it. "And what does that mean?"

"It means I’m not impressed by the size of your wallet." I finished my martini, glancing around for Rey. God, I needed another one.

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