Page 117 of Desperate Actions

But I don’t want anyone else looking at her.

I know that makes me a possessive asshole, but I don’t give a damn.

She’s mine, that she hasn’t said it yet—hasn’t given me the words I’m fucking desperate for—is twisting me up inside.

I confessed I love her.

And she didn’t say it back.

She kissed me. She touched me. But she didn’t say it.

It shouldn’t matter. I know that. She isn’t obligated to say it just because I did.

But it still gnaws at me, making me edgy and restless.

I force myself to focus on her instead of my own internal spiral. She’s restless, her hands smoothing over her skirt, her delicate fingers twisting the strap of her purse.

She’s fidgeting.

I place my hand on her soft thigh, squeezing gently.

“Nervous?” I ask.

Her big green eyes flick to mine, and for a second, something flickers there—a hesitation, a vulnerability. Then she nods.

“Um, yeah, a little. It’s my first day meeting the new design and development team.”

“You’ll do great.”

She gives me a small, anxious smile, and fuck, I hate that she ever doubts herself.

I exhale through my nose and shift closer, my hand firm on her leg, grounding her. “Did you get a message from Mrs. Marsden?”

She nods, her fingers still twitching. “Yeah, she emailed me this morning. She introduced herself. She sounds wonderful.”

She pauses, looking up at me with something close to gratitude. “Thank you, Sammy.”

I tilt my head, studying her. “You don’t have to thank me, Pixie.”

But I like that she does.

I love taking care of her.

“You’re welcome,” I murmur, my voice low and rough. “ReadEasehas two suites on the nineteenth floor. My office is just above yours. If you need anything, you call me. Understand?”

Her breath catches, but she nods. “I’m sure everything will be fine.”

I frown.

Because it doesn’t feel fine.

Something is off.

But before I can push, Santos pulls up to Volkov Towers.

I don’t let her move yet.

“Wait,” I say.

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