Page 71 of Fierce

“No.” I looked down at my wine, finished off my glass, and tried not to grimace at the taste. “Of course not. It’s because I went to Paris, that’s all. I met him there. I mean, of course I knew who he was, but now he knows who I am, too. He had something he’d forgotten to tell me, that’s all.” I was babbling, so I shut up.

“Right,” he said slowly. “See, if I didn’t know better, I’d have said he was jealous.”

“Jealous?” I laughed in what was supposed to be a casual way. “Of what?”

“Well, of me, that’s what I’d call that. Like I had benefits, and he wanted them. Or like he had them, and was worried that I wanted them. One or the other. I mean, if I didn’t know better, of course. But of course you wouldn’t be sleeping with the CEO without telling me. After I was so nice about you being picked to go to Paris and me being left behind.”

He’d lifted his glass, but now he set it down, and his brown eyes had widened. “Oh. That’s totally why. You are such a little…” He was laughing. “You’re kidding. No wonder I never got benefits.”

I stood up and grabbed my purse and coat. “No. You never got benefits because I don’t do that. And I have to go.”

“Hey.” He was standing too now. “Come on. You can tell me. We’re friends. Share.”

“No,” I said, hardly knowing what I was saying. “I can’t. I have to go. Oh.” I fumbled in my purse for my wallet, pulled out a ten, and tossed it on the table. “See you tomorrow.”

I didn’t lie, and I didn’t sneak around. But I was doing both things, and none of this was all right. And I had to go.

She hadn’t made it a block before I caught up to her. I was grabbing her arm, exactly like in Paris. And she was whirling to face me in exactly the same way, too. Not one bit ashamed of herself.

“Don’t,”she told me, and if I’d ever thought Hope would be sweet and compliant, I’d been dead wrong. “Don’t you dare wreck everything we’ve got, making me think you’re some kind of jealous stalker who’s going to tell me I can’t have friends!”

She actually had me stepping back a pace. I didn’t do that, so I stepped forward again. “You won’t spend any time with me during the week, but you go out with somebody else? And you expect me to be all right with that?”

“If you’d given me thirty seconds before you leaped to conclusions, I’d have introduced you. I’d have told you that Nathan’s my coworker. That he’s helped me out with the job, and Martine, and…and everything. That he’s my best friend at your company, and he’s made it so much better, and you’re…you’re…”

Her eyes were shining as if she was about to cry, except that Hope hated to cry. I couldn’t have been wrong. I knew what I’d seen. Didn’t I?

“Hope.” My hand was still on her arm, not grabbing anymore, just holding her, and she wasn’t trying to get away.

“Don’t you see?” She’d stepped closer, not caring that we were in the middle of the sidewalk, three doors down from the office. She put both hands on my forearms, the same way she had in the hotel room, and how was I meant to stand up against that? “If you don’t trust me, if I don’t trust you, it doesn’t work. If you do this, I’ll...I’ll have to leave, Hemi. And I don’t want to leave.”

I started to speak, but I couldn’t think of what to say. I took a deep breath and started again. “Let’s go upstairs. To my office. I need to talk to you.”

“I can’t,” she said. “I need to go home. Karen. I was just taking half an hour to catch Nathan up and relax a little. That was all. You could have just asked, Hemi. I’d have told you.”

No.She wasn’t going home. We were going to work this out. “Charles will drive you home. It’ll take twenty minutes. If you’re worried, ring Karen now. I won’t get you home any later.”

She wavered, and I saw it.

“Please,” I said, then wished the word unsaid. I didn’t beg.

But she was turning, walking back into the building with me, getting into the elevator and letting me punch the button for 51, exactly the way it had been on the day of her interview. Still looking so upset, and today, I wasn’t going to stand next to her, because all at once, I couldn’t.

It started out as a touch. I had my hand on her face, and when she turned into me and looked up at me with those big eyes, something snapped.

When I grabbed her, she squeaked. I was reaching under her to pull her off her feet, backing her into the wall, taking her mouth, and one of her hands was in my hair.

My mouth dragged over her cheek, closed on her neck. I bit hard, and she gasped. I was grinding into her now, and she was whimpering. “Hemi…”

A ding, the brushed-steel doors whispering open, and I was stepping out of the elevator with her wrapped around me, headed for my office. And that was when it struck me.

Had she actually said yes? Had I even given her the chance?

“Wait.” I set her on her feet again, got a hand around her elbow when she stumbled, and held her up. “Wait. Tell me you want this. Or tell me if you don’t.”

Hemi wasn’t moving. Why wasn’t he moving? What he said took a second to register.

“Please,” I said.

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