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Mittens dug his claws into Dex’s shoulder but was too weak to get any traction. Ashley wished he was a tiger.
She threw a dark look over her shoulder at Toby. “You let him in here?”
“Well, yeah. He said he needed to talk to you and—oh, what’s that?” He cocked his ear dramatically. “Pretty sure I heard the door. Back in a sec.”
She turned back to O’Malley, who with the kitten, somehow managed to look like a sexy James Bond villain.
“That’s my chair.” It was actually Cora’s, but the principle was the same.
“Right.” He stood, still carrying Mittens, who was snuggled into his neck, the traitor. Walking over to the windowsill, he planted his ass there instead of in the seat in front of the desk like a normal person. “So I was hoping we could start over.”
Ashley approached and curled a hand around the kitten. His warm little body was so soft that for a moment she forgot that she was angry, possibly because her fingers brushed against the hardest block of muscles she’d ever encountered.
Then she looked into the gorgeous blue eyes of Mr. Entitled and recalled that he was a jerk. For a few minutes—okay, more than a few minutes, perhaps an hour last night—she’d thought she might have made a mistake in telling Dex O’Malley he was a bad fit for this organization. Now he was here taking up all the oxygen, she realized her instincts were correct.
People like that didn’t deserve kittens.
“I’ll take him. You really can’t help yourself to the animals.”
“He looked lonely.”
“Cats are never lonely. They’re independent.” She took a seat behind the desk with Mittens against her breast. “What can I do for you, Mr. O’Malley?”
“I think we got off on the wrong foot. With this injury—” He raised his hand and paused as if waiting for something. An apology perhaps? Not in this lifetime. “I’m out of action for a few days so that gives me more time to help out here.”
“I thought you had to do it, injury or not.”
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t sure I’d have the time and I might not have taken it as seriously as I should have before. Which was wrong of me, not cool at all. I realize that my attitude wasn’t terribly respectful. In fact, you don’t have to help me out at all, but I’m hoping you’ll reconsider.”
That was the last thing she wanted, but he did get bitten on her watch. No one had called her out on it officially, though that Rebels PR woman had sounded very concerned yesterday when she called to check up on her player’s behavior. As well she should. Dex O’Malley’s appendages—all of them—were probably worth millions.
“How’s your hand?”
“I’ll live. How’s my nemesis?”
She repressed a smile, strangely pleased that he was taking it so well. After all, he was unable to play and that had to be difficult for someone so driven.
“Bandit’s bloodlust has been sated for now. Might be best to stay away from him.”
“You think I’m afraid of that little punk?”
That made her laugh, though she hated herself for it. “He is a little punk, that’s for sure. I’d never question your bravery, but Bandit has been through a lot. He doesn’t trust easily.”
“So what can I do to help?”
Ashley blinked, not so much at the words but the sincerity behind them. That couldn’t be real. All part of his act to weasel his way back into her good graces.
“I’m still not sure this is a good idea.”
“So you’ve said. But the thing is, I need this.”
“This?” She looked around as if he was referring to Cora’s pokey office.
“I’ve been steadily burning bridges for the last year, and this might be the only intact one left. Even if it’s more like one of those rickety across-a-gorge ones from Indiana Jones.”
“Hmm. Worried I’ve taken a—what are those curved knives the bad guys were always using to fray the edges of the ropes?”
His lips twitched. “A scimitar dagger?”
