Page 125 of Diego

Montes is standing on the opposite side of it, calmly uncorking a bottle while Priya says something to him about his flight tomorrow. Nothing about the scene is remotely sexual, and still my mind supplies an entirely different image.

Black hair spilling over the stone.

Green eyes on me.

Blair’s legs—

Enough.

I drag my attention away from the kitchen and find the actual Blair standing near the edge of the living room.

It doesn't exactly improve matters.

She has been perfect throughout the closing. Calm, prepared, professional. Every document needed was already in front of her before anyone asked.

Every question that involved Meridian or the transaction was answered without hesitation. Anyone meeting her today would see a broker finishing a complicated sale and doing it exceptionally well.

I see that too.

But there's more.

She is too quiet.

Blair is not usually loud, but there is an ease to her when she is comfortable, an obvious confidence in every situation.

Today, something is missing. She has smiled when appropriate and spoken whenever the transaction required it, but every so often I have caught her staring at nothing for a second too long.

I noticed it downstairs too.

My first assumption in the garage was nerves.

I have not exactly been subtle about what I intend to do once she is no longer technically representing me.

Maybe I misjudged how she felt about that.

The possibility bothers me enough that I keep watching her.

At the inspection, she kissed me back. There was no uncertainty in that. I know desire when I feel it, and Blair wanted me.

But wanting someone once does not obligate her to want him again.

And wanting me physically does not mean she wants everything that comes attached to me.

I own the company that owns Meridian. She made it very clear what that means to her.

Maybe I have been treating the end of this transaction as though it resolves the problem because I want it to. Maybe, for Blair, it changes less than I assumed.

Another possibility enters my thoughts and makes me even more uncomfortable.

What if she is trying to figure out how to refuse me without risking her career?

I do not like that thought at all.

Not because she might refuse me. I can survive rejection.

What I cannot tolerate is the idea that she might believe saying no to me carries consequences.

I think back through every interaction we have had since the inspection, trying to find something I missed. Her distance has been professional, but I interpreted that as restraint. Maybe it was avoidance.