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I swallow hard. I feel the force too. I missed him this week, and no amount of reasoning will help me to understand why.
“How much can I pay you to quit the agency?”
My heart stops beating for half a second. “You want me to quit the only job that I have right now? A job I literally just started?” A job that will soon pay all my bills. A job that will hopefully further my investigation skills.
“You will still get the money. It will be like a job you get paid for but don’t actually have to do anything.”
But it’s more than the money. It’s the connections and networking that will help me with my career. This underground world of the elite might be full of nefarious people who I need to investigate and explore. “I’m not quitting.”
His eyes bore into mine. I can see his wheels turning as to how to get me to agree to his proposition. “I don’t like being told no.”
“I don’t like being told what to do.”
“You accepted Mark Tanner’s dates.”
“So. What’s your point?”
“Angie, you do not want to be near that man. He is dangerous. He’s using you as bait to get to me.”
This is exactly why I need to be near him. He might be hiding something huge. Something that I can uncover and write about. The more Graham tries to force me out of the agency, the more I want to stay in. The more Mark Tanner tries to cover up his business conversations in my presence, the more I want to find out the reason why.
“How, Graham? What does he want from you? You make it sound like it’s more than just business.”
My investigative journalist instinct is to figure out their connection. The chance of a good story is slim. Most chases lead to nothing, but I have no leads at all. Nothing. And the one time I had an amazing story, it was snatched out from under me. Not again. This is my second chance.
His eyes twitch, and I know that I am right. He usually doesn’t give me such a tell, but for some reason, I hit a nerve.
“Just stay out of it, Angie. And for heaven’s sake, stay away from Tanner. I can’t protect you if you do things behind my back. Do you understand?”
“I don’t need protecting,” I insist, but it comes out more like a whine.
“Said the last girl that—” He pauses and looks straight at the wall. It’s as if he is in a different place. At a different time.
“That what, Graham? Finish your statement.”
“He’s dangerous.”
I put my chin up in defiance, not backing down from him. “I’ve been told the same thing about you.”
“I can be dangerous, that is a fact. But I always protect what is mine.”
“I’m not yours. Thus, your protection isn’t necessary.”
His hand moves to my left knee, running his palm up and down, while pulling the fabric of the dress up to reveal my legs, encased in silky thigh-highs. His movements are intentional and purposeful.
“Tell me to move my hand, Angie.”
I close my eyes to savor the feeling of his touch. It feels so good, unlike any touch I have felt before.
“Tell me, Angie. Tell me to stop.”
Graham pauses for a few seconds, waiting for me to say the words. When I am silent, he swiftly takes both of his hands and grabs hold of my waist, lifting me to my feet. He guides me to stand in front of him. I am pulled between his legs, which part to accommodate me.
“Graham—”
The pad of his finger touches my lips. “Shhh…”
I close my eyes at the feel of his hands sliding up my legs again, this time making it to the exposed part of my thighs. It has been such a long time since anyone has made me feel this wanted, this desired. But like every other guy in the past or present, they always have an agenda. Something they want.
