Page 110 of Between the Lines

“Yes,” he mutters. “All performance, all charm. That’s what’s needed of me. I’d much rather be out on the ocean, in a forest, on a motorcycle. Working at the office, even.”

I set my soup down. “Really? I thought you enjoyed them. You always seem so… confident in front of people.”

“I have to seem confident. If I let them smell the faintest trace of weakness, I’ll be eaten alive.”

“You’re speaking as if they’re predators and you’re prey.”

His lip curves in a humorless smile. “That’s the game, Chaos. I learned early on to turn myself into a predator of my own.”

He’d taken over the company on the brink of bankruptcy, dealt with despondent shareholders, confronted a Board that had failed in its functions, and handled staff who feared being let go.

And faced the Hartman family name in the news, taunted as one of the biggest corporate frauds in modern history.

“It’s all been one big confidence game,” I murmur. “Since you took over Titan Media. Hasn’t it?”

He looks at me for a long moment. And then, gently, “Yes. Eat your soup, Charlotte.”

“My head hurt. Not my throat.” Still, I reach for the container. The soup is delicious. There’s even a small piece of freshly baked bread wrapped in thermo foil.

I wonder where he found that this late at night.

He watches me eat. I watch him watch me. The moment stretches, extends like a rubberband.

Aiden blows out a breath. “I’ve been thinking. I should apologize.”

“For what?”

“Our fight. The other day.”

“About the car.” I look down at the soup and stir it again. It’s hot. “I’ve driven it every day since then.”

“I’ve noticed. Do you like it?”

“I do, yes. And I think I should apologize as well. I got defensive.”

He runs a hand along the back of his neck. “I’m used to making decisions. Not… compromising or negotiating. I should have spoken to you about it first.”

“Asked,” I say softly.

“Asked,” he repeats. “Yes. Some of the things you said, Charlotte…”

I put the spoon down. “I know. I reacted too strongly. The rules we set up? I guess I just felt like they were maybe… shaking a little.”

“Mm-hmm. I get that.”

“You do?”

His facial expression is serious. “Yes. The parameters are important to you. No emotions involved in our extracurricular activities.”

I smile a little. “Yeah. That’s nice phrasing.”

“Thank you. And those activities can’t affect our working relationships. I remember the rules, Chaos. Including the new one you threw in the other night.”

I have to look away at the memory. Me, riding his hand in the next room over. “I just think that the compliments, they might… affect rule number one. You know?”

He’s quiet for so long that I have to look at him again. His hands are braced on the kitchen island, and his eyes are ablaze. “Yes. I understand. But I want you to know that, while I’ll try torefrain, it doesn’t mean I don’t think you’re beautiful, intelligent, and so fucking hot that it’s regularly hard for me to think straight around you.”

A flush races up my cheeks. “You’re doing it again.”

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