Page 112 of Wilde and Deadly

“Mia, I’m going to need you to hold all my calls,” he said, voice still a little rough. Not rough enough that anyone else would notice, but just enough that Rowan wanted to tease him, see how long that cool CEO composure would last with her hands sliding down his abs, wrapping around his cock.

“We have a situation and I need to…” He trailed off, and whatever his secretary said had his expression shifting, sharpening. “No. Yeah, you’re right. I can’t keep putting him off. Send him through. I’ll talk to him, but no more calls today.” He hit the hold button for the line and then looked at her—really looked at her.

Not with the heat that had burned between them moments ago.

Not with the teasing challenge that always made her want to push all his buttons.

This was different.

Heavier.

Dread curdled in her gut—it was that slow, sinking weight of inevitability, the moment before the other shoe dropped, and she wished she could rewind. Go back to the heat of his body under hers, back to the wicked grin on his lips and the rasp of his voice when he told her to ride him.

But there was no going back now.

She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly cold. “What’s wrong?”

He looked at the phone for a beat too long, then lifted his gaze back to hers. “It’s your father.”

twenty-nine

“What?”The word came out strangled as she launched herself off the desk.

Oh, God.

She was half-dressed, her panties soaked, the taste of Davey’s cock still on her lips, need still thrumming through her veins.

She searched the floor for her pants. She needed clothes. She need to—focus. Relax. It wasn’t a video call. Dad couldn’t see her, didn’t even know she was there.

She dragged her hands through her hair, trying to smooth away the evidence of just how sex-mussed she was. “Why’s he calling you?”

“He wants an update on my progress tracking you down.” Davey leaned back in his seat, completely at ease despite his erection still standing at half-mast. Cool. Calm. Unbothered. “What do you want me to say?”

She stared at the phone in his hand, at a complete loss. Her mind went blank, her pulse hammered in her ears. For months, she had avoided this conversation, convinced that keeping her distance was the only way to protect her family.

And now?

Now, her father was waiting on the other end of that call, thinking she was still lost, still a ghost he hadn’t been able to track down.

“Ro. Look at me.” Davey set the phone down and rose to his feet, crossing to her in long, quick strides. He caught her chin between his fingers and turned her head until their eyes met. “I’ll tell him to fuck off if you want me to. He doesn’t need to know you’re here. He doesn’t need to know anything about what’s happening or why. Just tell me what to say, and I’ll say it.”

The temptation was there—to let Davey tell her father off, to put off dealing with the truth for just a little longer. But… she couldn’t hide forever. And now that she knew staying away hadn’t kept Rue from falling into Atlas Frost’s orbit, it was time to face this head-on.

She held Davey’s gaze, drawing strength from the steadiness in his eyes. Then, she inhaled slowly. “I’ll talk to him.”

Davey studied her, like he was checking for any last hesitation, then gave a slow nod. “Do you need me to step out?”

“No.” It came out a little too quickly, and she reached for his hand. “Please stay.”

“Come here.” He hooked an arm around her waist and guided her back toward the chair, pulling her down with him as he sat.

No hesitation. No second-guessing.

She settled against him, and there was nothing sexual about it this time. Just warmth. Just solid, steady reassurance.

Davey reached for the phone and held it out. “You sure you want to do this now?”

She wrapped her fingers around his, took another steadying breath, and nodded. “Take the line off hold.”

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