Chapter 4 Lines and Looks

Lucien didn't speak to her the next morning.

Not even a nod.

He walked past her desk, dressed in slate gray and storm silence, holding his coffee like it was armor. If not for the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air, Amara would've thought she imagined him altogether.

Good.

She didn't want him watching her like he had yesterday. She didn't want to feel that rush of awareness whenever his gaze lingered too long. This wasn't supposed to be about feelings-or attraction. This was survival. A paycheck. A deal made under duress.

And yet, by mid-afternoon, she found herself glancing toward the door more often than necessary.

He still hadn't said a word.

Her fingers hovered over her keyboard. She shook her head. Focus. She had a spreadsheet open, his calendar in front of her, and three investor reports waiting to be filed. This was her job. This was what she could control.

The memory of their exchange yesterday crept back in anyway-his voice, too smooth, too confident.

"I didn't blackmail you into working hard, did I?"

God. The man knew how to get under her skin with one line.

The elevator dinged behind her, pulling her attention. A tall woman with sleek black hair and a designer coat stepped into the office with the air of someone used to being noticed. Her heels clicked across the floor like punctuation marks.

"Lucien in?" the woman asked, pausing at Amara's desk.

Amara glanced at the schedule. "He's in a meeting with Mr. Crenshaw. Shouldn't be much longer."

The woman raised a brow, amusement dancing in her eyes. "You're new."

Amara offered a polite smile. "I am."

"I'm Elira." She leaned in, voice lowered. "And I don't make appointments."

Amara bit back a response. Ah. One of those.

Before she could reply, Lucien's door opened.

"Elira," he said with an easy charm that Amara hadn't seen directed at anyone else. "I figured you'd show up eventually."

"Had to make sure you weren't letting the whole building burn down without me."

Lucien stepped aside to let her in, then turned his eyes to Amara. Just a flicker. Just long enough for Amara to feel her chest tighten-and not because of Elira.

Jealousy wasn't something she had room for.

But the way Elira's hand lingered on Lucien's arm, the way he didn't pull away...

Amara swallowed hard and looked back at her screen.

Don't. Go. There.

She didn't know what Elira was to him-an ex, a colleague, someone who used to own pieces of his heart. Whatever it was, Amara had no business caring.

She lasted twenty minutes before her curiosity got the better of her.

The moment Elira swept out of the office again-leaving the scent of rich perfume and memories behind-Amara stood.

She knocked once and pushed the door open before he could say anything.

Lucien looked up from his desk, surprise flickering in his expression. "Yes?"

"You asked me to keep your week tight. Elira wasn't on the schedule."

He leaned back in his chair. "You monitoring who visits me now?"

"No. I'm managing your time."

Lucien's eyes narrowed, not in anger-more like interest. "Jealous?"

Her jaw clenched. "No."

"Good." His tone was unreadable. "Because I don't mix business with nostalgia."

She tilted her head. "You sure? You looked... comfortable."

Lucien stood slowly, walking toward her. The distance between them evaporated with every step, but she didn't move. Couldn't.

When he was close enough for her to feel the heat from his body, he said, "Comfort has nothing to do with trust. Elira's been around a long time. But she doesn't ask questions I don't want to answer."

His voice was quiet, calm-but there was a warning underneath it.

And a question he wasn't asking out loud.

Do you trust me?

Her heartbeat betrayed her. "I'm not here to ask questions."

"No," he said softly. "You're here to survive. I haven't forgotten."

He stepped back then, his walls snapping into place.

"Close the door on your way out, Miss Blake."

She did.

But the conversation didn't leave her.

Neither did he.