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Even if she was only working for me for some secret reason only she knew. I would never believe for a moment that her arrival the day I’d been hiring an assistant had been coincidental. She knew who I was, and my connection to her grandmother. She had to.
One way or another, I would find out all that she knew.
I continued down the silent hallway, passing by Jack’s assistant’s darkened office. Jack nor his assistant kept the kind of hours I did. I didn’t blame them. On the contrary, I quite liked being the only one working late on a regular basis. When I was alone, it was easier to think.
Easier to be.
In silence, my designs had room to grow. The ones I continued to sketch even as I told myself that the company focused on function rather than style. The artistic side of me had never quite died, much like my fascination with Grace. I’d used it to build my company, and now I used it in secret. As if drawing beautiful things that weren’t strictly functionary was somehow taboo.
For the man I showed to the world, it was.
I pushed open the bathroom door. And stopped.
Grace was at the sinks, her leg propped up on the lip. She was doing something to her hose and cursing a blue streak under her breath. My eyebrows rose at the colorful language until my gaze darted down the long expanse of leg revealed by her actions.
Fuck, she was wearing garters. Lacy-top hose and garters.
I was a dead man.
“Goddammit, stupid clip.” She pitched the offending item and lifted her head, blinking owlishly as if she’d just realized she wasn’t alone. How she hadn’t heard the door, I didn’t know. But goddamn that clip.
Blessed clip.
Her lower lip trembled. Yet she maintained the pose that left her gorgeous leg on display. “What are you doing here?”
Inexplicably, I started to smile. “This is the bathroom, is it not?”
“You should have your own bathroom. You shouldn’t even be here. It’s Friday night. Don’t you ever date like normal people?”
I did have my own bathroom. Not that she needed to know that. A man was allowed to stretch his legs now and then, wasn’t he?
This particular woman definitely was. And what legs they were.
I lifted a brow. “You’re a fine one to talk.”
“Actually, I’m on my way out.”
“So you do have a date then.” I didn’t think she did, but I wanted—needed—to hear her say it. “Is that why you’re doing a last-minute repair on your hose?”
“It didn’t work.” She started to drop her leg, but I stilled her by raising a hand and bending to pick up her discarded paper clip. She’d mangled it a bit, but when I stepped closer to examine the lacy tops of her hose, I could see where one of the hooks had snapped. I pried the clip apart, reshaping it, and slipped it between her warm, smooth skin, the frilly top of the hose and the band, fashioning it into a kind of hook. “If you don’t move too much,” I murmured, fixated on the creamy perfection of her supple thigh, “it’ll hold.”
“I have to walk to the train.”
“At this time of night?” I didn’t know what time it was, exactly, just that she shouldn’t be out strolling alone. Not because she couldn’t take care of herself, but because I wanted to ensure she reached her apartment safely.
If that made me an overprotective bastard—well, at least one of those terms fit.
“Not all of us have chauffeur-driven limousines.”
I ignored her snark. “When you’re ready to leave, I’ll drive you.”
She jerked her leg away from me and let her foot fall heavily to the floor. “I’m fine to get home myself. Now if you’ll excuse me—” She started to brush past me, and I reached out to grab her arm. My fingers closed around her wrist and she lifted her hand to my chest, ostensibly to push me away. Instead, her fingers dug into my shirt and she dragged me closer, her mouth dangerously close to mine despite our height difference. T
hose razor blade heels gave her more of an advantage than she’d had the last time we were together and she used it, hauling my face down to hers. “One more thing. You don’t get to say a damn thing about what I do or don’t do. If I want to ride the train naked, that is my choice and you have no say in it.”
It took everything I possessed not to fist my hand in her hair and pull her insolent mouth to mine. “Oh, you think not?”
“I know not.” She started to relinquish her hold on me, but my fingers only tightened on her wrist as I turned her toward the sink. “I said I’m leaving,” she added shakily.
