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Chapter Two
I’LL SAY THIS for Jack. He knows how to do this. Late-night entertaining is clearly his forte.
His office is dimly lit and he’s switched on some kind of acoustic guitar album that’s humming low in my abdomen. The vocalist has a husky rasp and it’s doing very strange things to my equilibrium. He mixes two martinis with a mar
aschino cherry in each.
I arch a brow as he hands me mine. ‘I hate cherries.’
‘Interesting,’ he murmurs, his eyes hooked to mine. ‘Why?’
I stare at it and swirl the glass, sipping the alcohol and wincing as the slightly medicinal flavour assaults my back palette. ‘They’re weird. Plasticky.’
‘Not the real ones.’
‘No.’
I swallow, wondering at the way my gut is churning and my pulse is racing. I need to bring it back to business. It’s the reason I’m here with him.
‘The server in Canada can pick up the slack, but it’s going to slow things down.’
‘By how much?’
‘Just a few seconds’ lag. It’s unavoidable, given the distance.’
‘A few seconds?’ He shakes his head. ‘There’s nowhere closer?’
‘Not that can handle this amount of data.’
He throws his drink back in one motion. ‘And Wolf thinks that’s acceptable?’
He says his name with obvious derision.
‘You think he’d go to the effort of flying out here to propose it if he did?’
‘Well, he’s banging you, right?’
I can’t hide the angry intake of breath. Sure, he’s always rude. And demanding. And I’ve learned not to give a shit. I don’t expect the same courtesy from Jack Grant that most people pepper into life. But this is too far even for him...even when we’ve been flirting all night.
‘His suggestion is professional,’ I return softly. A warning lurks in my words. Does he hear it?
Apparently not. Jack is like a cat with a mouse.
‘But you are fucking him?’
‘God, Jack,’ I snap, standing up.
His eyes follow the fluidity of my movement. They’re narrowed. Assessing. He’s reading me like a book. But I’m too angry to care. Too worked up, as well. He’s halfway to being drunk, and he’s obnoxious, and since he pulled me hard against his body I’m a bit mushy.
I hide my mushiness, though. I hide it behind a veil of anger. ‘That’s none of your damned business.’
His eyes flick to mine. There’s a lazy arrogance in his features but anger palpitates off him.
‘He works for me. You work for me. If you’re fucking him I want to know.’
‘What I do in my own time, and with whom, is up to me. Until the day it starts affecting my job performance you should just butt out.’ I jut my chin, my eyes sparking with his. ‘Got it?’
He looks calm, controlled, but I know there’s an undercurrent of emotion just beneath the handsome surface. Because I know Jack. Probably better than anyone else on earth.
