Page 49 of Enemies

His mouth twitches. “I meant, are you pleased with how it functions? It’s a new model and the best available.”

“I haven’t used it.”

Harrison frowns, and I take a sip of my drink, feeling his attention linger on me.

Finally, I say, “The French press is good enough. Besides, I don’t want to get attached. It’s not as if I can take it with me.”

“Of course you can. I bought it for you.”

“No, I mean… thank you.” Processing his confusion is hard. He seems offended his gift didn’t rock my world. “But I’m always on the road, so I pack light. The only things that come with me are my computer and gear and clothes.”

He leans in, as if genuinely willing himself to understand. “Is it so difficult to see yourself staying somewhere?”

“I’ve tried that. It didn’t work out. People have a habit of disappointing me.”

“Perhaps you simply expected too much.”

I turn that over as I glance past his shoulder to see his business associates talking and laughing.

“Where were you all week?” I ask.

“Visiting venues in LA and Miami. Putting in place new policies to address a few lingering issues.” He hesitates, regret flickering behind his eyes. “In building an empire, it’s easy to be lured by the facade and miss the cracks. The past year, I was distracted. I allowed the cracks to extend further than they should.”

He was trying to fix the mistakes he made. The ones I called him out for.

I blink.

“I thought your next move was buying La Mer.”

“I can do both. You’d be surprised what I can accomplish when I set out to.”

It’s not the first time he’s looked at me as if I have what he wants. But it’s the first time I can’t resist looking back at him the same way.

The feeling deep in my stomach, expanding in my chest, isn’t only attraction. It’s not only about how irresistible he looks in his dark suit, how his dirty-blond hair and electric-blue eyes lull me into thinking he could have been the boy next door…

If the boy next door kept a safe full of secrets capable of slicing you clean in two.

“You’re an asshole,” I whisper, but the warmth in my voice betrays me. “And a prick. And a liar?—“

“And you missed me.” The gleam in his eye is so sexy it derails my brain.

“I did not.”

“Then why did you text?”

“It was an accident.” A flush crawls up my face, and his grin widens.

“Ah. But you were thinking of me.”

“I’m thinking of how much money I’m going to make in my final two weeks here. But if it helps your ego, they’re thinking of you.” I nod to the fan club across the room.

The women are both pouting their full lips and adjusting their skirts to show even more insanely toned thigh. From the way they’re staring, they miss his company.

“My attention is occupied.”

I can’t stop the surge of adrenaline that pulses through me or the breathless smile that tugs at my lips.

I ask something I know I shouldn’t.

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