Damaged Grump (Bad Chicago Bosses)

The unbearable urge to touch that sheen of nylon. I just barely diverted it by running my fingers over the outside of her skirt.

The garter I wanted her to wear so desperately—and not because it contributed a damn thing to the spy mission.

What the hell is this fever?

I still don’t know what came over me.

Deep down, I know I was one touch away from harassment.

I also know the smoky, intoxicated look in her big, curious grey eyes said she might have welcomed it.

Frowning, I press my knuckles to my mouth, glaring out the window of the Rolls. I catch a worried look from Dominick and tear my hand away.

“Something in my teeth,” I mutter, an explanation I don’t think either of us buy.

Dammit, I’m struggling, and I can’t pin down why.

This woman is impossible. Irritating. Disgustingly moral. Self-righteous.

Beautiful.

Blessed with one hundred alluring charms that make her a disruption I can’t afford.

Focus.

I almost whisper it out loud, lightly slapping my cheek. Dominick glances back again with concern and I regret not putting the privacy screen up.

Shit.

Enough.

Focus on the end goal, man. Nothing else.

I can’t see Callie as anything more than someone useful. Someone who can use her connection to Easterly Ribbon to find a chink in Haydn’s secretive armor.

Only, I remember how ruthless he is with anyone who pries. If Easterly said anything to him last night before Callie got home safely...

No.

I’m not worried.

I’m not.

Just in case, I fire off a quick email.

To: Caroline “Callie” Landry

From: Roland Osprey

Subject: Checking In

Callie,

Following up on last night’s interview. I have questions about the recording, and your sources. Can you confirm you’ll meet me in my office before my nine a.m. conference call? Do you need reimbursement for transportation for last night?

Roland

CEO, Osprey Media Group

I stare at the email before tapping Send.

No, I’m not being subtle at all.

My poor driver is still fucking staring.

I flash him a look that says I’m fine. Really. I’m not completely broke in the head, my brain stuck on one thought for a woman I can’t even want.

Just confirm you’re safe, Callie.

Please.

* * *

By the time my Rolls pulls up outside the office, I’ve filled my skull with terrible things Vance Haydn could’ve done to Callie in retribution for her snooping—all the many ways a man can silence a woman who doesn’t have a large enough footprint to be noticed if she’s missing.

I never should have dragged her into this.

I never should have gotten her involved or put her on his fucking radar.

Damn Callie Landry for making me sprout a conscience.

As I step off the elevator onto my floor, I half expect to see her sitting there on the edge of a table, smiling like she knows I’m worried sick.

I’m not that lucky.

There’s no one home except Wanda, loyally hunched over her desk outside my office, tapping away as diligently as always.

I stop short, standing there awkwardly, my throat closing up.

Wanda pauses typing and looks up over the top of her screen.

“Is something wrong, Mr. Osprey?”

“No,” I whisper slowly, shaking my head. “Has Miss Landry been in this morning?”

She cocks her head, looking at me oddly.

Shit.

I wonder what’s written all over my face right now.

I’m certainly not myself.

If I’m honest, I haven’t been myself ever since that little minx hooked her claws under my skin and made me question myself—if only for a second—ever since that day in the airport lounge.

It’s not normal for one person to fill my mind this much, Barry aside. There’s never room for more besides my single-minded focus on destroying Vance Haydn.

They’re both the furthest thing from my mind when Wanda says, “I haven’t seen her this morning. Did you have an appointment? Perhaps she had other business.”

It’s pointed. I know.

I fucking know what I’m doing to Callie. Demanding double duty between two offices with this suffocating secrecy sure as hell isn’t a normal start to a new job.

In fact, it’s selfish.

Keeping her where I can see her.

I need to get this feeling leashed, stat.

Instead, I’m whipping around and stepping back into the elevator, the doors closing on Wanda’s startled, “Mr. Osprey—”

Soon, I’m back in the parking garage, catching Dominick before he even manages to get out of the parked car for his break. With an apologetic glance, I slide into the car and tell him to take me to Just Vibing.

Stupid. I know.

I could just call, couldn’t I? Someone would pick up and tell me if Callie’s there or not.

Whatever. I’ll just look in, confirm for myself, and disappear without her being any the wiser.

The drive over is the longest twenty minutes of my life.

I’m rigid, staring out the window without seeing anything until the Rolls stops outside the Vibing building.

I step out with a muttered “Thanks” and force myself to slow down as I charge inside and elbow-punch the elevator button for their floor.