Page 2 of Sinner
Two
Mary smiledas she entered the elevator and punched level sixteen. The cute tech-genius who worked on her floor always made her smile. She wasn’t sure whether it was his blustering and cursing, his passion for his inventions, or the way his beard and hair was trimmed to perfection as he leaned over a neatly arranged desk of nuts, bolts and computer chips. He also left secret treats labeled with her name in the break room fridge. Last week she got a Baci chocolate. The week before, a Krispy Kreme donut. She wondered if he’d put anything in today.
The truth was that any chance they had to share the same air lifted her spirits even if they spent most of the time trading insults and witticisms. For the five minutes and twenty-five seconds it took to brew her cappuccino, and him to stir his long black, they were alone.
For the past two years, Flint Fydler had wiggled his way into her thoughts daily. Her ten a.m. sojourn to the break room was the highlight of her week.
Just yesterday, they’d spent the entire break trading opinions on the escapades of the country’s new President. Mary had simply mentioned that a female President would never have been caught dead dipping her wick into her intern, and Flint replied that a female can’t because she doesn’t physically have a wick to dip. Mary’s resulting argument for the case of feminist dipping had been both sensually empowering and exhilarating. She loved to shock him with her entirely non-nunlike vocabulary. Of course, she wouldn’t dream of acting like that in front of anyone else.
But she trusted him.
The thought slammed into her.
She trusted aman.
As absurd as it sounded for a member of the Hildegard Sisterhood to trust a man, she knew that above all else in her life, he’d always keep her secrets safe.
Pretending to be a nun was stifling. Looking after the children in the Project room was something she hadn’t expected. Rewarding, eye-opening, and a change in perspective. Nobody except the head scientist Gloria knew Mary’s secret identity, but with Flint, she didn’t have to fully pretend. She could let her personality out to play.
Maybe she wanted to be caught out. Maybe she wantedhimto catch her.
Except, she had a heavy burden to carry.
It was this burden that urged her to hit the “close” button on the elevator, even when she caught sight of Flint’s lithe body jogging toward her. The doors started closing, and she relaxed enough to feel a pull in her aching back. She rolled her shoulders to ease the pain. Her workout this morning had been brutal, and she had only herself to blame. The rigorous hour-long daily routine was of her own making, but she had no choice. It was almost time. She had to be strong. She had to be ready. The growing sense of dread coating her insides reminded her of that, and the last thing she needed was a distraction in the shape of a tall, sexy man. Not when the Sisterhood’s secret plan was so close to fruition.
A large hand slotted between the closing elevator doors, and Mary jolted. A boot wedged in at the bottom. Flint’s large body began squeezing through the tiny crack.
He wasn’t going to make it.
“Shit. Fuck. Hold the door,” came his deep male voice.
Mary considered hitting the “open” button. That’s what a nun would do. But it was too much fun watching him squirm. Within seconds, Flint punched through in a burst and knocked her against the wall. His brandy brown eyes looked apologetic until he realized his baseball cap had left his head and was caught in the door. It slowly moved down the join as the elevator moved. He grasped, crouched and tugged.
The muscles in Flint’s back rolled and bunched through his T-shirt. Mary allowed herself a moment of visual stimulation as he put his weight into one final tug that set his cap free.
He straightened and quickly smoothed his hair, replacing his hat—backward—then caught her gaze. His light irises were rimmed in dark brown. The same dark brown as his hair and beard. Having spent most of her life under the tuition of feminist nuns, she hadn’t fully appreciated the joy of a well groomed man. Until now. The razor sharp line of his facial hair accentuated his strong jawline, and Mary knew, without a doubt, that he spent countless hours a week dedicated to his presentation. He struck her as the type who set his mind to something with dogged determination.
His straight brows snapped together.
“I know you heard me,” he said.
“I’m sorry?”
“I asked you to hold the door.”
Mary stifled her amusement. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Cut the bullshit, Sister. You act all pious around everyone else, but I’m onto you.”
Mary’s heart leapt into her throat and, for a split second, she feared their unspoken rule was about to be broken. She should’ve kept her snarky retort to herself, but he’d made it so easy. Her bottom lip dragged between her teeth, and the urge to wipe that smug smile off his face won. “If anyone is getting onto anyone around here, it’d be me.”
That came out wrong.
He stepped closer and the walls of the lift closed in. Mary hadn’t realized she’d backed up until her butt hit the wall and he placed a hand on the space beside her head, lips perilously close to hers.Sweet Motherhe smelled delectable. Musky, manly and with a touch of mint.
“You’re no nun,” he said, voice low and intimate. “Admit it.”
Her breath hitched. He was so close to the truth.
