Page 34 of Revenge Puck

I swallow. “I can take care of myself, thanks.”

He shrugs. “It’s advice, don’t worry. I won’t report you to HR. Sure you already have those policies memorized.”

“Front to back.” I cross my arms and give him a playful eyeroll, finally looking directly at him, from the tips of his brown boots to the gloomy frown on his face. “And why on earth would you report me to HR? You’re as guilty.”

But it’s not as if anyone would terminate his employment. He’s not expendable.

Aaron’s massive shoulders move up and down. “I didn’t know you were Declan’s sister—the other night. If I had, I wouldn’t have messed with you.”

“Messedwith me.” I click my tongue, skin positively on fire. “That’s a fun way to put it.”

His head tilts. “I’m not saying it was amistake.”

He’s not? Could have fooled me.

“Ah,” I tell him lightly. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Aaron’s lip threatens a smile. “I wouldn’t have crossed the line without thinking it through first, had I known you worked for the organization.”

I uncross my arms. “Maybe I was doing you a favor the other night. Maybe I thought spending time with me would cheer you up.”

His dark eyes dip, skimming the front of my sweater…down my legs…lower, to my velvet shoes.

“Maybe you did.”

My breath catches.

Aaron doesn’t move closer; he doesn’t need to. His gaze holds mine—steady,unreadable,and way too intense for a casual visit to a chandelier-filled room.

“You should be careful with that,” he adds.

“With what?”

“That look.”

“W-what look?”

One inch closer. Then two. “Likethat.With your pretty sweater and pearl earrings.” Pause. “Those prissy shoes.”

Prissy shoes?

I glance down at the tips of my toes. “What’s wrong with my shoes?”

“Nothing.”

My heart does an unprofessional summersault. “I don’t understand.”

“Listen,” he whispers. “Do yourself a favor and say no when I ask you out.”

My pulse beats so loud I can feel the frantic rhythm at the base of my neck, thrumming against my gold necklace. Raising my fingers, I reach for theJsuspended from the chain and press my forefingers against it.

“Are you p-planning to ask me out?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” I swear I can hardly breathe.

“To make up for the other night,” he says, lowering his voice as if it was going to echo in the cavernous room. “I don’t want things to be awkward between us.”