Darkly (Follow Me 4)

“Union Oyster House, Christopher,” I say to the man who’s been my driver for the past several years.

“Yes, sir.” Christopher closes the car door and takes his place in the driver’s seat.

We don’t talk at first, which is fine with me. Personally, I hate forced conversation. I got enough of that early in my career at events where I had to schmooze my way into what I wanted. I’m good at it, but like social media, I dislike it. After the day I’ve had, forced conversation sounds akin to torture.

And I’m never in the mood to be tortured.

So I’ll wait. I’ll wait for her to relax a little bit. Loosen up. I want to know this woman, and it’s not because knowing her will piss off Addie. That’s merely a fringe benefit. I rarely concern myself with Addison Ames—this afternoon notwithstanding—and as I regard Skye Manning, her tense countenance and her luscious lips, I don’t give a rat’s ass what the consequences will be.

Addie knows a lot of secrets.

But my desire—fuck, it’s more than desire—for her assistant outweighs all of that.

I relax next to her. My knee touches hers, and she tenses even more. I expect her to say something, but she doesn’t.

With Skye Manning, I may not always get what I expect.

And I find that realization thrilling.

The car stops, and Christopher opens the door once more. She takes his gloved hand as he helps her out of the vehicle.

“Thank you,” she murmurs.

“You’re welcome, ma’am.”

She cringes slightly at Christopher’s use of “ma’am.”

I hold back a smile.

“Mr. Black,” the maître d’ says as we walk into the restaurant, “we’re thrilled you’re joining us tonight. Your usual table?”

“That’ll be great. Thanks, Marco.”

Marco personally leads us to my preferred table. It’s near the back—a bit more isolated and a bit less noise. I sometimes do business here, so I prefer the additional privacy.

Skye sits when Marco pulls out a chair for her. “Thank you,” she murmurs again.

“Sometimes I like to sit at the bar,” I tell her once I sit down across from her. “Those shuckers tell the most amazing stories.”

I’m not sure why I mentioned the shuckers. For some reason, I felt like I needed her to know I don’t have a habit of bringing women to my usual table.

Skye takes the menu Marco hands her and stares at it as if it’s the most interesting thing she’s ever seen.

I already know what I’m about to say. I’ve said it to many women before, but never have I meant it as much as I’m about to.

“Skye.”

“Yeah?” Still staring at the menu.

I lift the menu out of her hand. “Look at me.”

She meets my gaze.

“I want to take you to bed tonight.”

Chapter Three

She freezes.