"Because people are cheaters and liars."
"And you?" Winn turned his head again, his dark eyes narrowing as if her answer was the only thing in the world that mattered right now. He had a way of looking at people that made them feel undressed.
"I am neither." Her chin lifted an inch. She wanted him to believe that.
"So if I ask you anything now, you’d tell me the truth." It was a trap, a test of her integrity.
"Yes." She swallowed hard. What could he possibly ask? He didn’t know enough about her personal life.
Winn leaned his head back against the wall, regarding her with a quiet that made her stomach clench. Then, almost too casually, he asked, "Where did you spend Friday night?"
Her heart tripped. "What?"
"Friday night," he repeated. "Which party were you at?"
Her skin prickled. Why that night? Of all the nights, why that one? Her mind flicked frantically through memories of stage lights, pulsing bass. Panic tapped at the edges of her composure.
"Why would you ask that?" she tried, deflecting with a faint laugh that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
"You want to know if someone lies," Winn said, his gaze locked on her, "ask the simplest of questions."
Think, Ivy, think. Finally, she let it out in one smooth breath. "A bachelor’s party in SoHo."
The lie was seamless, rehearsed by instinct.
Winn studied her in silence, his eyes dragging over her face. After a long moment, he simply nodded once and turned his head away.
"That’s it?" she asked.
"Were you expecting any other questions?"
Her lips curved despite herself. "I thought you would ask me something like... ’do you spit in my coffee?’"
Winn’s laughter exploded, echoing against the cramped steel walls. It was a real laugh.
Ivy’s chest warmed at the sound. God, it was unfair how good he looked when he laughed, head tilted back, teeth flashing, that heavy shadow of arrogance melting into boyish charm.
"Yeah," she teased. "I mean... isn’t that something you should be more interested in?"
His laughter rolled again, settling into a smile that lingered longer than either of them expected.
"Do you?" Winn finally asked once the laughter died down.
"You lost the chance to ask." She chuckled, shaking her head, trying not to get caught in the gravity of his stare. God, she liked this side of him—this softer, teasing Winn Kane that slipped through the cracks of his stone façade. It was...dangerous.
"Okay," he murmured, settling more comfortably against the wall, his tie loosened, his jaw shadowed with stubble. "Another question then."
Ivy perked up, pretending to prepare for it. She straightened her spine, squared her shoulders, and tilted her chin in exaggerated mock-seriousness. "Alright, hit me!" she said.
Winn simply held her gaze until the humor in her stance began to waver. The silence pressed down, and suddenly Ivy wasn’t sure if she’d made a terrible mistake inviting him to continue.
"If I kissed you right now... would you kiss me back?"
"Wha—" The sound died on her lips. Her throat closed, her body stilled. She hadn’t expected that. Her eyes flickered down, betraying her for half a heartbeat as they brushed over his mouth before flying back to his face.
"I..." she faltered, her tongue tangled, her brain short-circuiting. For fuck’s sake, Ivy, say no. That was the right answer. The only answer. Right? Right?? RIGHT?!
So her brain did what it always did in crisis mode—it made a list. Reasons why this is a terrible idea.
One: He’s my boss. Check.
Two: He’s almost twice my age. Check.
Three: I am merely on a break from my boyfriend. Check.
Four: He is gorgeous. Che—no. No, no, no, what the fuck, abort mission, don’t go there.
Her heart hammered in her ribcage. Every sane, logical part of her screamed danger, bad idea, walk away.
Winn could see the battle raging in her eyes, the way her pupils dilated and then shrank, the way her breath hitched before she pulled it in tightly. He didn’t move closer. His question had been the equivalent of pushing her against a wall without laying a finger on her.
He only wanted to watch, to see if she’d crack, to know if he could rattle her the way she’d been rattling him since the day she walked into his office, with that infuriating mix of innocence and secret fire.
The hotel’s shitty electrical system—chose that exact moment to break the spell. The lights flickered on with a buzz, and the elevator jerked back to life. Winn sprang to his feet. He straightened his jacket, cleared his throat, and avoided her eyes.
Perfect timing, he thought bitterly. Clear the room for awkward; he had just stepped into it with both feet.
Ivy rose more slowly, her fingers brushing against the strap of her computer bag. She felt raw, her pulse still racing from his question, from the almost-confession her eyes had given before her mouth could catch up.
She created more space between them this time, not much, but enough to breathe. Enough to remember that this was Winn Kane—her boss, her arrogant, off-limits boss. And he had crossed a line, a professional line. The wild thing? She didn’t feel offended. Updates are released by novel•fire.net
When the doors finally slid open, A small army of hotel staff stood waiting, their faces pale with apologies. "So sorry, sir—ma’am—there was a glitch..."
Reese was there too. His sharp eyes flicked from Winn’s flushed face to Ivy’s flustered one, and she prayed to every saint that he wouldn’t read too much into it.
Winn didn’t say a word to anyone. He simply strode forward, long legs eating up the hallway, every inch of him snapping back into CEO mode. The King of House of Kane was back, and the man who had almost begged her with his eyes in a powerless box was locked away again.
Ivy hurried after him. She told herself to breathe, to shake it off, to be normal. But how the hell was she supposed to focus on Dutch investors when her body was still humming with the ghost of a kiss that never happened?