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“Done?”

“Uh-huh.”

My gaze catches on the chessboard across the room. Last time I saw it, half the pieces were scattered like someone quit mid-game. Now, they’re perfectly lined up.

“You know how to play?” he asks.

“Are you any good?” I consider telling him that my grandmother played with me when I was a kid, and that I am better than good, but stop when he continues, looking a little too smug.

“Don’t worry. I’m a pretty good teacher.”

The words make heat crawl up my neck. I remember exactly what happened the last time he said that.

“I’ll go easy on you,” he says.

“Will you?” I say. We sit cross-legged on the floor, the board between us. Every one of his moves is neat, bold, rehearsed. I make a few sloppy plays on purpose, letting him think he’s in control.

He lifts an eyebrow. I pretend I don’t notice.

I play one more odd move to sweeten the pot.

“Careful.” He warns me not to make a move. I make it anyway. He captures it and frowns at his own move like he’s ashamed of himself for being mean.

I hold back a laugh.

“I told you not to do that,” he says.

“You did,” I say and slide my rook across the back rank. “Checkmate.”

His eyes cut to the corner of the board, where my sleepy rook woke up in one move. He checks his king and the paths around it. His bishop is pinned. His knight is out of position. His queen is miles away.

He stares at the board, then at me, and sighs. “Did you just swindle me?”

I smile sweetly. “Didn’t I win because you were going easy on me?”

He lunges forward, laughing, sending the chessboard skidding away. I shriek as he catches me around the waist and pins me against the sofa. His laughter vibrates against my skin as he kisses my cheek, my jaw, the corner of my mouth.

“I love you,” he murmurs, forehead pressed to mine.

My heart swells so fast it hurts. His eyes are silver in the light and soft in a way I never thought I would see. I slide my hand up the back of his neck and pull him in. “Love you too.”

A knock hits the door.

Xander groans. “What?”

“Sir,” a voice calls from the hall. “If we don’t leave now, you will be late.”

“I told you to clear my schedule.”

There’s a long pause. “I am sorry, sir,” the voice tries again, thinner, “but I thought you may have forgotten which meeting…”

Xander lifts off me with a sound that’s not quite a growl and sits up straight. I tug the throw over my legs like a shield and scoot upright. The door opens a fraction. It’s the young assistant I’ve seen in the hall. He glances at me and turns pink all the way to his ears.

“It’s the Vayden Group deal,” he says, voice small. “If you don’t go, it will be a full backout. Legal said that means we lose position. It’s a five-hundred-million acquisition.”

“I’m aware,” Xander replies, calm as ice. “You’ve done your job. Now, go.”

The assistant nods and vanishes.