I’d only just turned on the TV when he breezed through, barely glancing at me on his way. “Emily. My office. Now.”
My heart pattered in the way it always did when he ordered me around, and my hands began to sweat like they always did when I feared I’d displeased him. My nerves tingled with the excitement that always accompanied both.
With only a second of hesitation, I set down the remote and followed him.
The ornate double doors to his office were open. I hadn’t been in his office at the ranch before, and I was struck by the warm tones that accentuated the masculine décor, a stark contrast to the clean lines of his minimalistic LA office. This space had a homey feel to it that was absent from the other, yet it was still strongly charged with the authority and success that defined Reeve Sallis.
Especially now, when the man was standing in front of his desk in full-command mode.
“Shut the doors,” he said, his tight tone an invisible string that tugged on my arousal button.
It felt like I was moving through molasses as I pushed the heavy doors into their frame. The soft click of the latch echoed loudly in my ears as if instead it were the clang of metal hitting metal at the closing of a jail cell. Being alone in a room with Reeve wasn’t necessarily like being in a prison. But it would most certainly be a trap. And I’d most definitely been caught.
When I turned to face him, Reeve’s expression was cold stone as he gestured to the chair in front of his desk. “Sit down.”
“I’d rather st—”
“Sit.”
I sat, my face flushed from both the heat of his directive and the humiliation of how easily I obeyed. Determined to not cower, I straightened my spine. This confrontation was a long time coming. I should have been prepared.
Seemingly satisfied with my deference, Reeve leaned on the desk behind him. “Joe Cook,” he said.
So we’d start there. I was tempted to spill everything, but wasn’t sure exactly what Reeve was after, and I wasn’t ready to show my whole hand yet. “What about him?”
The grip of his hands tightened on the edge of the desk. “Define your relationship.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “He works for me.” And he works for you, apparently.
“Go on.”
Silly as it was, I’d half-hoped that this would be more of a conversation and less of a showdown. That there would be a give-and-take in the information we shared.
But Reeve’s approach was that of an interrogator. So that hope dissolved and I had to choose if I was going to be cooperative or combative.
It was the intensity of my body’s reaction to him that decided my course. The way my torso automatically leaned forward to be closer to him. The way my pulse tripped at the potency of his presence. I’d be obliging. For now.
I sighed. “He’s a private investigator. I hired him to help me find Amber.” There they were – my first cards laid.
His eyes narrowed at me, and the vein in his neck bulged, but he said nothing, as if waiting for more.
“Jesus,” I huffed, “say what you want to know already. It’s so awkward to guess what you’re looking for when you obviously know most of it on your —”
He cut me off. “Did you fuck him?”
“What?” I was so taken aback, the question came out before I had a chance to stop it.
“You heard me.”
“Yes, I heard you.” I slumped back in my chair. Really? This was where he was going first?
Of course it is, I chastised myself. It was how he’d reacted when he’d found me with Chris Blakely. Strange how it stung so much when I shouldn’t have been surprised.
Even stranger that he would ask Joe to protect me if he was worried that I was sleeping with him. The man was such a bundle of contradictions, it made my head hurt.
“Well?” Reeve’s impatient tone only added insult to injury.
“I love how you automatically assume I’m sleeping with every man I come in contact with. Are you going to choke me with your cock now so I learn to never have relationships with men that aren’t you again?”
Even the reminder of the cruel way he’d treated me after I’d been with Chris didn’t cause him to flinch. “You’d like that too much. Answer the question.”
“No.” I raised my chin defiantly. “I won’t give you anything else until you give me something.”
He let out a patronizing chuckle. “That’s not how this works, Emily.”
“Maybe it’s not how it worked before, but it’s how it’s working now.” Somewhat stunned by my own bravado, I barreled on before I had a chance to second-guess myself. “How long did you know that I knew Amber?”
He ticked his head dismissively. “It doesn’t matter. Did you fuck Joe Cook?”
Exasperated, I dropped my hands to my side. “It doesn’t matter to you, but it matters a whole hell of a lot to me. And, frankly, my question is much more relevant than whether or not I’ve gotten naked with Joe.”
“It’s relevant if I say it’s relevant.”
I rolled my eyes and started to stand, but Reeve sprang forward and stopped me. His hands gripped on both arms of the chair, he caged me in. “Did. You. Fuck. Him?”
He was so close. And so angry. So angry and so close. He could lean down and kiss me in the blink of an eye. Or strangle me. Or pull me to my knees, where I knew he wanted me. Where I would fall so naturally into the role I craved.
But that wasn’t the best role for me at the moment, no matter how much I wanted to play it. And I’d grown with Reeve. I could be strong with him when I needed to be.