Page 20 of The Dark Before Light

But no words come out.

“Mr. Hayes,” she says, nodding. “Hello, Sven.”

“Doctor,” he rumbles.

Honeyed eyes return to me. She’s so tall in her sky-high heels, we’re almost at eye level. A dark brow cocks. “Are you feeling all right?”

I clear my throat. I never clear my throat unless I have a fucking cold.

“Fine,” I bite out.

Her eyes narrow at my tone, but she steps aside slightly and waves me in. I force my suddenly leaden feet to move past her. For exactly two seconds, I feel the heat of her body all the way through my suit. Her perfume coils around me, the fragrance notes like dancing snakes born to hypnotize men. The scent clings to me as I cross the office. I want to shower immediately.

My blood boiling, I unbutton my jacket and drop into the too-small chair. I think I might hate her. Especially when the soft snick of the door closing makes my cock stir. Fucking idiot body part doesn’t know any better. Not when Stirling looks like every horny teenager’s illicit wet dream about a naughty schoolteacher.

The top half of her shiny dark hair is clipped back, the lower half falling in long waves that form parenthesis around her breasts. Completing the honeytrap is a pseudo-conservative white blouse—silky and thin enough to hint at lace beneath—a skintight black skirt that skims the top of her calves, and heels so tall they could double as spears. Oh, and red lipstick. Because everything else wasn’t obvious enough.

The worst of it is she pulls it off. Some-fucking-how none of it looks contrived. Even though I damned well know everything this woman wields—her mind, her words, her body, her clothes—is a weapon.

“Is something wrong?” she asks, floating to her chair like a dancer, then sinking onto it like it’s a throne.

“No.”

Her blood-red lips don’t move. Her face is a static painting. Only her eyes are alive, studying me like I’m an equation she already knows the answer to. A queer feeling takes hold of me—that odd wave of familiarity I felt the first time I saw her. I must have met someone with eyes the same color before, but I have no idea when or where.

“How was returning to work?” she asks.

“Fine.”

It’s been better than fine. Returning was surprisingly easy thanks to Alistair’s efforts the last month. As far as anyone at Lumitech knows, I stepped away to work on an ultra-private project at home. I’m not even mad I’ll need to pull something out of my ass to support the lie. It doesn’t matter whether or not I bring forward something actionable. My project leaders know full well that half my ideas are science fiction, anyway, either wildly impractical or downright implausible. They’re used to my eccentricities.

For the last three days, I’ve felt stirrings of the same excitement I had in the early years. A sense of possibility and purpose. Even the never-ending project meetings that had become painfully monotonous felt less so.

“Close your eyes, Mr. Hayes.”

I glare at her. “Why?”

She tilts her head. Her hair swings forward, hugging the curve of one full breast. Lamplight makes her skin unnaturally luminous. Polished alabaster.

I need to get laid. That’s obviously the reason my eyes keep straying. I can’t be attracted to her. I like women who are soft, warm, and compliant. Who have nothing to hide—unlike the woman across from me, who more and more reminds me of a Japanese puzzle box. With spikes that take blood at every wrong move.

“Because I asked you to,” she answers.

“You didn’t ask.” I sound deranged. Mean and angry. I feel a pinch of shame.

“Correct,” she says. “Do you know why?”

Blowing out a breath, I swipe a hand down my face. I knew this was a mistake. “I bet you’re gonna fucking tell me, huh?”

“Because when I ask you a question, you rarely answer. When I give you an order, it irritates you, which at least leads to an honest response. Now close your fucking eyes.”

Startled, I laugh. Her lips curve.

“Jesus. Fine.”

I close my eyes.

“I want you to think about the last time you were happy. Don’t focus on details like where you were, who you were with… that’s background noise. I want you to isolate the feeling of happiness. Let me know when you have.”

---