Page 63 of Twisted Knight

He raises an eyebrow and laughs—not a stutter anywhere. “You’re just a regular Nancy Drew, aren’t you? Inventing problems so you can fulfill your god complex and save the day?”

“You didn’t answer my question,” I grit out.

“Wasn’t aware I had to.” He moves to the car and opens the door, waiting for me to get in.

I don’t move.

The chuckle he emits in response is grating at best and arrogant at worst. “Is this why you had the staring contest with me on the way over here? Trying to map out in your head how to approach me? How to confront me? Did it turn out how you imagined?” I scowl. He smirks. “It never does, does it.”

I move toward him and stop right in front of him. “Graden Microchips. Hager Circuit Boards. Prodigy Peripherals.” I lift my eyebrows.

“All are companies I’ve purchased, yes.”

“All are companies you’ve purchased and then dismantled, selling parts to the highest bidders.”

“Your point?” He lifts a lone brow, and it takes everything I have not to wipe the smirk off his face.

“Is that what you’re planning on doing to my company?”

His smile tilts lopsided. “You mean to my company?”

“Answer the goddamn question, Knight.”

“Oh, I love it when you talk to me like that.” And then in a completely unexpected move, he reaches out and tucks an errant piece of hair behind my ear. His hand lingers on the side of my face, his eyes darkening in the bright sunlight.

I freeze. Mad for wanting the touch and confused that I do all at the same time.

My pulse thunders in my ears and my skin tingles.

And just as quickly as the moment happens, Holden snaps his hand back and clears his throat as if it didn’t happen.

Or he’s pissed that it did.

His eyes that a moment ago were dark with desire are now guarded and cold. “I’m not buying the company to sell it off.”

“I have your word on that?” I ask, my heart still decelerating.

He purses his lips and tilts his head, silent for a beat before saying, “You have my word.”

And when I get in the car and he slides in beside me, not another thing is said between us on our trip back to the office.

His thigh presses against mine and I hate that it draws my thoughts back to the feel of his hand on my face. To the look in his eyes.

And then I remember who he is and the threat of what he’s doing.

Do I believe him?

I don’t believe anybody at this point and for good reason.

But why is he willing to pump so much money into a company he’s going to rip apart? That’s not good business and if there’s one thing I’ve learned in my searches, it’s that Holden Knight is a sharp businessman. So why would this time be any different?

Our conversation replays in my head all day. I analyze every sentence and each exchange. And when I finally leave the office, I come to the conclusion that I need to tell someone what’s going on.

I might not need help now, but that doesn’t mean I won’t need to bounce something off someone in the future.

I slide behind the wheel of my car and dial one of the only people in this town other than Caroline who would remain loyal to me in a crisis. Someone who has zero ties to TinSpirits and the like.

“Holy shit. You are alive,” Sloane says in greeting.