Page 45 of The Dark Before Light

“Don’t lie,” I chide. “You were expecting a BDSM dungeon.”

He throws me a crooked grin. “Maybe. Why the fancy lock?”

I nod toward the room’s other door, also locked but with a standard deadbolt. “Files.” I pause. “Also, this used to be a dungeon.”

He laughs a bit uncertainly because it’s not clear whether I’m teasing. I am, but I like that he can’t tell.

“Don’t tell me we’re doing yoga. My sensei wiped the floor with me this morning and my muscles are pulverized.”

“No yoga.” I grab a few round pillows from a cubby and place them opposite each other on the central area rug. “But no chairs, either. Or shoes.”

His brow cocks. “I’d rather do yoga than guided meditation, Stirling.” He points at a massage table, currently folded up against a wall. “That, I would volunteer for.”

“No meditation, either. And no massage.” I lower onto one of the pillows, crossing my legs in front of me, then pat the other pillow. “Come on, don’t tell me you can’t sit crisscross apple-sauce.”

He toes off his shiny Italian shoes. “Can’t promise my feet don’t stink.”

I smile. “That’s why I pumped the air full of oils.”

He comes to the floor easily, as flexible as I knew he’d be from observing the way he moves. I purposefully put the pillows close together, so I’m prepared for the moment our knees touch. It still makes my breath catch.

Kieran stills, looking a question at me—Are you going to move back, or am I?

I don’t answer him. Nor do I move.

“Comfortable?” I ask.

“I am if you are.”

“I am, thank you.”

I’m actually the opposite of comfortable being this close to him. Close enough to smell his faded cologne and the clean musk beneath. Close enough that his broad shoulders take up most of my line of sight. And close enough that the heat of his body seeps through his slacks and my leggings into me.

But I’m committed.

His eyes narrow. “What are we doing?”

“This is our talking circle.”

“Our what now?”

“Think of it as a space where we come to resolve conflicts, make compromises, or simply share unfiltered thoughts. Today, we’re going to use it to broker a deal.”

“A deal,” he repeats, clearly mystified.

I nod. “Will you hear me out?”

His shadowed gaze scans my face. “Yes.”

I take a deep breath, then leap into the unknown.

“As you know, our professional relationship took an unexpected turn Friday night.”

He stiffens and opens his mouth, but I lift a hand.

“You said you’d hear me out.”

Lips compressing, he nods.

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