Page 120 of The Re-Proposal

“Good idea,” Dawn says.

I lead the way, my heart still accelerating.

Don’t think about it, Ris. Just work. Forget about it all and focus on helping Maggie.

Halfway to the rickety stairs, I’m yanked back by a hand on my arm. I turn and look up into Cody’s sizzling green eyes.

“What are you doing?” I ask, noticing the workers giving us weird looks as they pass by.

“What areyoudoing?” Cody barks.

I wrench my hand free. “I’m cleaning.”

“Why do you think I hired those guys?” Cody juts his chin at the crew.

“Tohelp.” My eyebrows cinch together. “You don’t expect me to sit on my hands while everyone else does the labor, do you?”

The angry green moonlight in his eyes turns simmering. He steps closer to me, bringing the fragrance of his cologne mixed with Hatchen’s blood.

I see it again. Hatchen’s mouth open in a roar. His hands closing around my throat. His fingers on my neck.

My eyes drop to the ground and I shudder.

Cody notices and his tone turns even more gravelly. “I’m taking you home.”

I resist it when he tries to pull me. “I can’t…” My hands are slick with sweat. “I can’t donothingright now, Cody.” Lifting my head, I beg him, “I need to stay busy.”

“You’ve been through a traumatic experience, Ris.” His voice is hard, but his touch on me is gentle. “Nobody’s going to blame you for stepping back and taking care of yourself before you take care of others.”

“Maggie ismyresponsibility.” My heart thumps. “I’m not leaving. Not unless you throw me over your shoulder and force me to.”

He steps even closer, his voice a low threat. “You think I wouldn’t?”

I swallow hard, struck immobile by his freakishly perfect looks and muscular shoulders in that blood-spattered white shirt.

Cody takes my hand.

I come back to myself. “Cody, I said I’m not leaving.”

“I’m not taking you home.” He leads me to his car. “Debrief me so I know what we’re working with.”

“Nova’s the project manager. If you want to know anything, you should talk to her.”

He pops his trunk open, takes out an old gift bag and shuts the trunk again. Turning to me, he says, “You do know the project manager isn’t the client, right?”

“I don’t understand.” My eyebrows scrunch.

He smiles at me like I’m a cute puppy fumbling up a steep flight of stairs.

I bristle. “Don’t look at me like I’m clueless.”

“You’re not clueless, Ris. You’re just…”

“What?”

“So used to serving others that you’re a stranger to being served.” He unbuttons the top of his shirt.

My eyes widen. I grab his hand to stop him. “What are you doing?”

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