Page 23 of Legacy of Chaos

But no.

He wanted to see her face. He wanted to know what made her tick. What made her…her.

And, obviously, he wanted this information for professional reasons, not personal. He made a point to discover what made each of his employees, colleagues, and adversaries tick. He wanted to know their strengths, weaknesses, and damned IQs. If it could give him an advantage, he wanted it, right down to their grocery lists, bathroom schedules, and grade school report cards.

Dressed in black slacks, a lab coat, and a purple blouse unbuttoned just enough to reveal the smallest, tantalizing hint of cleavage, she arrived precisely on time. He liked that. He alsoliked how she exited the elevator and walked the intentionally uncomfortable distance with a confidence few managed. Even fewer maintained eye contact the entire way, but she locked gazes with him, and every step she took closer in her black high heels made his pulse race faster. She wouldn’t be cowed by him, and she was putting him on notice.

Man, that was hot.

Both wildly aroused and annoyed, he shifted slightly to make room in his pants for his growing erection.

He’d need an injectionverysoon.

She stopped inches from his desk, close enough for him to catch a hint of her clean, almost metallic scent that intrigued him but which he couldn’t quite place. A combination of copper and silver, maybe.

“I sent you detailed notes,” she said. “I fail to see how meeting in person can add anything. If you had questions, you could have messaged back. You’re wasting my time and yours with this power trip.”

“That’s what you think? That I’m on a power trip?”

“Among other things, yes.”

“Meeting with my project leaders isn’t about power. It’s about nuances.”

One delicate eyebrow cocked up. “Nuances?”

He gestured to the chair across the desk from him. “Have a seat and tell me why you don’t have a design for the weapon’s soul trap.”

“I told you in the message.”

“Tell me again.”

A muscle in her jaw twitched as she struggled to stay calm. She didn’t like being told what to do.

Nuance.

She didn’t sit. “We’re having difficulty developing a vessel that will fit inside the weapon’s projectile and also have wallssufficiently thick to hold spells complex enough to contain powerful spirits. Structurally and magically, cylinders are far weaker than spheres.”

“Why not use a sphere, then?”

“Because the projectile shaft is a narrow tube.”

“So? Create a tiny sphere that will fit into the tube.”

She shook her head. “We don’t think it’s possible to shrink adecipuladown that much.”

“I’m confident you’ll find a way,” he said. “Personally, I’d hand it off to the physics department and let them figure it out.” He leaned back in his seat with a smile. “See? This is why we meet in person. Now, you have feedback to take to the team.”

“You could have said the same thing in a message.”

“But then I’d have missed your expression when I came up with an idea you hadn’t thought of.” He winked. “Nuance.”

Her delicate snort of amusement made her breasts jiggle and his cock twitch in appreciation. He definitely needed that injection. He might even need to make it hurt, a little reminder that the alternative—actual sex—was a mental hit job and never worth the few moments of pleasure.

Never.

“You really are something,” she said.

“Something good or something bad?”

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