The hell she has.
At least it’s a better way to spend her time than reading about me.
“Is there anything you don’t think of, Mary Sue?” I snap.
I shouldn’t be defensive. Her input is solid. She just needs to remember I sign off on any and all decisions around here.
“I’ve shopped for wedding dresses before,” she reminds me with a bitter look. “If you don’t want my experience, just say so.”
Her statement stirs my insides.
Something ugly and uneven and jagged.
Yeah, I want to punch her asshole ex square in the face even more now. I’m jealous that he ever got that close to her, held her heart, and presumably earned the right not to be called Captain Dipshit.
“Your assistant is right. I agree wholeheartedly,” Isabella says.
Damn. I half forgot she was still on the line.
Dakota grins at me triumphantly like the spoiled brat she is.
“Fine. Send the amended contracts over, and we’ll get them taken care of,” I say, hitting the button to disconnect.
With the call finished, Nevermore returns to her desk. Somehow, she still hasn’t fixed that extra inch of skin showing on her thigh, and it draws my eyes like a beacon every time I walk by.
“Don’t stay too late,” I growl as dusk settles in.
She’s refused to ride home with me several times. I still loathe the thought of her biking around in downtown Seattle alone after dark.
Later, I bring Wyatt his Regis rolls and have a coffee with him, but I can’t stay long. I have to get back to the office. I have contracts with international turnaround times waiting to be reviewed by tomorrow.
I don’t expect to see her lingering, hunched over her laptop when I return.
“Why the hell are you still here?” I say, my shadow falling over her in the office’s dimmer night lighting.
She blinks and lifts her head.
“Oh, you’re back. Lucy’s job is a full-time gig. I’m working on ad copy now. I just wanted to get it right before I take off...”
“You should’ve just taken it home.”
“Maybe so. I lost track of time.”
“You’re stuck here until I leave now. Luckily, I have a comfortable car and a driver waiting. It’s a roomy vehicle, you hardly need to be up in my face for the ten-minute ride home,” I tell her.
Her lips twist. She stares at me silently, hopefully mulling it over.
“It’s too late for you to bike home. Also, it’s raining like hell now,” I say, nodding at the steady beads rattling the nearest window.
“Okay, I’ve tried to explain this before and it isn’t getting through. You only rent me on salary, bossman. Once I’m done for the day, I don’t answer to you.”
“Whatever you think,” I say, fighting back the needles in my throat.
Must she be so goddamned stubborn?
Is it truly torture sharing a car with me and saving her a wet, dreary, potentially dangerous journey home in the dark?
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks pointedly.
“If you’re so intent on getting mugged and catching cold, it’s not on my conscience,” I snap.
I need to simmer down.
Tonight, her standoffishness has me more on edge than usual.
She rolls her eyes, but doesn’t bite back.
An hour later, I’m surprised when I look up and she comes into my office, holding her shoes in her hands.
“Since I’m not allowed to leave without you, are you ready?” She blinks a few times like she’s struggling to keep her eyes open.
What caused her sudden reason?
I flash her a surprised look I quickly wipe off my face.
“Yeah. Let me pack up.” I fold up my laptop and drop it in my briefcase. “Let’s go.”
Downstairs, I send Dakota to the waiting town car. Louis gives me a hand loading her bike into the trunk before I slip in beside her.
In the car, she’s an overworked kitten. She closes her eyes and drifts off to sleep barely a minute after she slides in.
Her head bangs the window softly as soon as we pull onto the street.
Damn, looks like the dual jobs I’ve dropped on her really are taking their toll...
Against my better judgment, I slip an arm between her and the door, gently pulling her toward me.
Her head falls on my chest. I hold her in place with my arm.
There’s more traffic tonight than usual. A pothole job takes Louis on a detour that doubles our time to her place.
When we’re finally closing in on her street, I’m face-to-face with a new Dakota Poe.
Fragile.
Exhausted.
Vulnerable.
She drools adorably on my sleeve. Holding her like this might be crossing a line I promised I wouldn’t, but hell. At least this way she’s not banging her head on the cold window.
I don’t wake her until we’re outside her building.
“Dakota—Nevermore—you’re home,” I say, sharply correcting myself and jostling her gently. “I’ll get your bike. Louis, you can stay here,” I add, lowering the privacy screen.