Wicked Torture (Stark World 3)

I nod, then stare stupidly at the closed door once he's gone.

"What is with you two?" Maia demands, the second I turn around.

"What? Nothing." I look down at the mock-ups. "We're just friends, that's all." I've told her about our past, but only the short version. Dated years ago. Broke up. Now working together.

"Yeah. Sure."

"Are you ready to go over the national media budget?"

"Absolutely," she says, but I can tell from the tone of her voice that this conversation isn't over. We've become too close in the last few years for her to let this drop.

Maybe that's good. Maybe I need someone to talk to. Because right now, I think I'm a danger to myself.

Because the biggest thought in my mind at this very moment, is that not jumping all over his suggestion that we be Friends With Benefits was a really, really stupid move.

15

For his entire career, Noah had been someone who habitually got to work early. Now, faced with the knowledge that each morning he'd see Kiki, he found himself arriving not just early, but ridiculously, obscenely, obsessively early.

It was worth it, though.

He liked walking down to the twenty-second floor from his office on twenty-three and catching her at her desk before eight. For the first couple of days, he'd come armed with a question about work. Then he gave that up. The truth was, he just wanted to see her. Chat with her. About the job, about work. About whatever was on their minds.

And even though she didn't say it, he knew she looked forward to their quiet mornings, too. He'd suspected as much when she offered him a croissant, saying that the bakery had messed up her order.

The next time, he was certain she'd intentionally brought him a muffin, but he pretended to believe her bullshit bakery error story.

The third time, neither of them pretended, and they sat together on the small sofa in her office, drank coffee and ate cheese Danish. They'd fallen into a pattern. Coffee and baked goods while they chatted about nothing in particular. Then, after about fifteen minutes of that, they'd shift seamlessly into work mode.

It wasn't his usual way to dive into the day, but damned if he wasn't getting used to it.

Fridays were always crazy, and this one was no exception. He'd gotten a call from a European vendor, and now he was late getting out the door. In the past, he wouldn't have cared, but now the thought of skipping his morning Kiki-time edged him toward a foul mood.

Hurrying, he crossed the condo lobby, then pushed open the glass doors. He started to veer right toward Congress, then stopped cold when he saw that same damn green truck parked across the street. And once again there was someone in the driver's seat, slumped down and wearing a ball cap.

Maybe it was nothing.

Maybe it was none of his business.

But maybe it was a corporate spy, and Noah intended to find out.

He checked himself, and instead of going right, he headed straight across the narrow driveway that ran in front of the condo. He hit the sidewalk, and

then--even though he was in the middle of the block without a crosswalk and traffic was heavy--he started across the one-way street, determined to see just who the hell was in that truck.

He didn't make it.

The driver turned, the truck started, and right as Noah hit the middle of the street, the damn thing pulled out away from the curb.

This time, he had the presence of mind to check the license plate--and when he saw that there wasn't one, he spat out a curse as he continued to his office.

The moment he stepped into her office, Kiki rose to her feet, her eyes skimming over him with concern. "Are you okay?"

And there it was--that sweet little kick in his gut. The way she surprised him by the simple fact that she knew him. It was the reason why being around her was both hard--and the easiest thing in the world.

"Fine," he said. "Just baffled and a little concerned." He took a seat, then told her about the green truck.

She passed him a blueberry muffin and sat on the couch beside him. "Do you think it has to do with Red Brick? What Mr. Stark told you about espionage?"