Page 61 of Grin and Bear It

She raised an eyebrow. “You’ve given this a lot of thought for someone who doesn’t wear heels.”

“I notice details. Especially when they’re important for business.”

“And are my shoes important for business, Mr. Maxen?” The teasing note in her voice was new—another small gift, another glimpse behind her armor.

“Tonight they are.” He reached her side, offering his arm for support. “Though I’d prefer you didn’t break an ankle before we catch my brother.”

Her fingers curled around his forearm, warm through the fabric of his tuxedo. The simple contact sparked a current uphis arm, awareness tingling beneath his skin. This happened every time they touched—a physical reaction neither of them acknowledged aloud but both clearly felt.

“I don’t break easily,” she reminded him, but her grip tightened slightly as she found her balance.

“I’m well aware.” His voice softened. “It’s one of the many things I admire about you.”

She looked up at him, surprise flickering across her features. Her lips parted as if to respond, then closed as uncertainty replaced surprise. These moments fascinated him—when compliments bypassed her defenses, landing somewhere she didn’t quite know how to protect.

Standing this close, he could see the gold flecks in her amber eyes, enhanced by Bryn’s expert makeup application. Her lashes cast feathery shadows on her cheekbones, and her lips bore a subtle tint that made them look impossibly soft. The elegant styling didn’t disguise the woman he’d come to know—it simply highlighted different facets of her, like turning a gemstone to catch new angles of light.

“You’re staring,” she murmured, but without the sharp edge her voice might have held weeks ago.

“I’m appreciating,” he corrected gently. “There’s a difference.”

“And that difference would be?”

“Intent.” He reached out, running his fingertips lightly down her bare arm. Goose bumps followed his touch, and her scent shifted subtly—a note of arousal threading through her usual aroma. “Staring is passive. Appreciation is active.”

“Always the businessman, parsing definitions.” But a small smile played on the corners of her mouth, softening the observation.

That smile—rarer than any diamond in his family’s collection—sent warmth blooming through his chest. Each one felt likea victory, a sign that perhaps she was beginning to see him as more than a temporary ally or inconvenient attraction.

“Professional hazard,” he acknowledged. “Speaking of which, shall we discuss our approach for tonight?”

“Let me guess—I play the adoring arm candy while you handle the important conversations?” Her tone was light, but he caught the underlying challenge.

“Actually, I was thinking you’d take lead on intelligence gathering. Your bounty hunter instincts are sharper than my corporate ones for spotting suspicious behavior.” He adjusted his bow tie, pleased by her momentary look of surprise. “I’ll facilitate introductions and provide background on the players, but your eyes and ears will catch what mine might miss.”

The appreciation that flickered across her face confirmed he’d made the right call. Thora didn’t want to be sidelined or decorative; she needed purpose, respect for her skills. His bear might want to shelter and protect her, but his human side understood that her independence wasn’t a challenge to overcome—it was fundamental to who she was, and therefore, to what attracted him.

“Smart strategy,” she conceded. “Though I’m still not convinced I can walk across a room in these heels without embarrassing us both.”

“I have complete faith in your adaptability.” He offered his arm again, this time with a formal flourish. “Shall we begin our infiltration,Ms. Hampton?”

Her lips curved into another small smile as she slipped into character, placing her hand delicately on his arm. “Lead on, Mr. Maxen.”

The woman who stepped into the hallway beside him moved differently than the Thora he’d first met—her stride measured and graceful despite the unfamiliar shoes, her posture elegantly upright, her expression composed into one of polite interest. Thetransformation wasn’t just physical but behavioral, and he found himself once again impressed by her chameleon-like ability to adapt.

As they descended the grand staircase, he leaned close to whisper in her ear, “You’re a natural.”

“I’ve played many roles in my line of work,” she replied quietly. “Though usually with more weapons and fewer diamonds.”

“The diamonds can be weapons in their own way,” he murmured as they approached the waiting car. “In the right hands.”

“Or the wrong ones,” she countered, her eyes meeting his with understanding. The looming threat of his brother’s plans hung between them, acknowledged but temporarily set aside as they prepared to step onto the battlefield of high society.

The driver held the door for them, and Artair guided Thora into the back seat with a gentle hand at the small of her back. As the car pulled away from his cabin, he allowed himself one more moment of appreciation—for her profile silhouetted against the window, for the quiet strength she carried even in this unfamiliar setting, and for the fact that, at least for tonight, she was choosing to remain by his side.

His bear rumbled with satisfaction. Not yet claimed, but no longer running away. Progress.

FIFTY-SIX

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