Page 10 of Bound Hearts

“Dennis insists on a high force majeure threshold, as if we control hurricane season, just because he needs to get his goods across the Gulf. If the world is on fire, he still wants us to pay.”

"I’ve noticed. It's easy to work around. External insurance policies exist for a reason, and the contract requires them to have one."

I'm not pleased with his idea of delayed payment rights. It doesn't allow enough planning leeway.

Sutton has already done her research, and it shows.

Her nails thrum against the leather armrest. “Those are all tiny issues, to be honest. The termination rights are the biggest concern, especially with a six-month implementation term once they become a client. I have a few suggestions that would be fair and hard to debate. You might have to give a little grace.”

I chuckle deeply. “Believe it or not. I’m capable of that.”

Her eyes find mine again. “I don’t doubt that.”

Her lashes frame those blue eyes perfectly. She’s effortlessly beautiful—no extensions, no heavy makeup. I can’t look away. I’m hooked, and I wonder why she gets under my skin like this.

“Look, the best approach is to list the points, then we can discuss them at our next meeting,” I suggest.

“Agreed. I’ll get them to you by the end of the week, as I want to comb through a few laws of compliance.”

I clap my hands together. “Great.”

She nods her head with her droll smile returning, agreeing that this is probably the end of this professional meeting. There's not much point in dragging it out; she knows what she’s doing, and we can’t dive deeper until she presents her fixes for the issues.

Standing, she announces, “Well, with all of that clear, then I’m going to let you be. I’m sure you have a lot to do.”

“Always,” I sigh, pushing off the desk and circling behind it as she walks—no, sashays—out of my orbit.

Towering behind my desk, it only takes a millisecond for me to backtrack.

She starts to turn, and I hesitate. Something stirs low in my gut, rising until words threaten to spill out.

“Sutton,” I begin, and she pauses in place, glancing over her shoulder with doe eyes. My lips press together, and I knock my knuckles gingerly on the desk, a move that my father would do when business was going in the direction he wanted. Except, I’m thinking on a personal level right now. “Listen, I’m starving. I haven’t eaten all day. Would it be so crazy to ask you to join me for dinner?” She seems surprised. “I owe you for a tour, remember?” I justify with a ridiculous cover.

She turns, wags her finger, and tsks. Even that gesture is sexy; her dark red polish would look perfect gripping my skin if she ever needed to hold on.

“Not even going to start with drinks and then work your way up to dinner?” Sutton teases. “I think we both know that dinner between us is a bad idea.”

I grin because she’s right. “Is it?”

“We’re both smart people.”

We are, and that’s why we have already agreed on facts. It’s also true that I’m a direct and frank communicator, and she has no fear of being blunt. I’m not going to chase around the obvious. “I’m not crazy, am I? The chemistry?”

She runs her tongue along her bottom lip to the crease of the corner. “You might be crazy if you asked me that, considering our professional connection.”

Lifting a shoulder, I’m not quite ready for defeat. “Fine. I’ll put it on my company credit card, and it’s a work dinner.”

Sutton’s laugh is uplifting, along with her cheeks flexed from her wide smile. “Found a loophole, huh?”

“No. A loophole is that it’s a professional dinner, and as the senior on this project, I demand your attendance. But I’m not going to use that power play.”

Her head bobbles slightly side to side. “So you’re a gentleman, I guess.”

“I can be.”

She clicks her tongue, eyes narrowing—maybe, just maybe, I’ve got her. Then her face softens, gaze sliding away. “A raincheck, perhaps.” Her smirk is pure temptation as she saunters off, fully aware of her effect. Even after she’s gone, my eyes linger on her path.

Left alone, no victory in hand, her presence still hangs in the air.