Angelica’s eyes are watery, like she’s on the verge of tears, and she’s clearly uncomfortable with telling me this, though in this moment I can’t fathom why. We’ve been sleeping together, with her staying at my penthouse, for upwards of two weeks. I bailed her out of an inconvenient situation. I’ve given her everything, including practically unlimited access to me.

This should not be a surprise, but my heart thuds against my rib cage.

Are we at this point already?

My mind spins out of control. It doesn’t seem to matter that seconds ago I was thinking how terrible it would be if she were ever out of my sight. It turns out I’m still torn.

I don’t know what to say.

I stall for time.

I smile at her with a cocky confidence I don’t feel. Underneath I’m a tidal wave of some emotion I can’t name, that I’m not even sure I want to name. “What kind of feelings?”

She looks down at her hands in her lap. “You know.”

Her bottom lip quivers and I want to take her face in my hands and pull her in to me and kiss her until her smile is radiant, comfortable, secure.

My heart twists in my chest, battling against my head.

The truth is....

The truth is....

Angelica is the opposite of Emerald in every way. She’s not in this for my money. She’s shown no sign of using me for my money. She’s ridiculously delighted with everything I do for her.

Far from hindering my obsession with taking control at the office, she’s tacitly encouraged it.

No. No. This is exactly the kind of thinking that made me miss crucial red flags with the merger because I was in London with a gold-digging bitch. I was sure that Emerald was a good woman.

I promised myself when I came back to the city that I wouldn’t get involved. That I wouldn’t let a woman get so close to me that she’d have the power to influence my business decisions, take the focus off my work. Angelica brought me dinner and was more than accommodating when I canceled our plans, but that’s not enough to go on to assume that in the future she’ll....

This is ridiculous, and the longer the silence goes, the redder Angelica’s face gets. She’s put herself out there for me. If I can’t even admit this small thing, then I should tell her to take a cab back to her place, or to the Sheraton, or wherever it is she needs to stay until the repairs are completed on her apartment.

It’s at that moment that Connor bursts through the door without knocking.

“Brandon, the PR team wants—”

“Connor.”

His eyes jerk toward us. “Oh—I’m sorry,” he says, giving Angelica a once over so fast I’m sure he thinks I don’t notice it. “Emily was saying something about dinner, and I assumed that—you know what? This can wait.” He holds up both hands, grins an apology, and heads for the door. Angelica’s eyes are back on her folded hands, so she doesn’t see when Connor pauses, gives me a thumbs up, and mouths “Oh, my God!” before he steps out of the office, closing the door gently behind him.

His entrance cleared my head.

I’m still in control.

I can still make changes at any time.

Angelica is not trying to destabilize my business. She’s not jealous of the time I spend at work. And I want to be with her.

I might—it’s terrifying to even think it, but I can’t ratchet down the intensity of the memories speeding through my mind when I look at her, can’t disregard how it feels to have her body pressed against mine, can’t dismiss the way she’s vulnerable in front of me—I might love her.

I’m sure as hell not going to admit that—not here, not now—but I can set her free from the unbelievable awkwardness of this moment.

“I have feelings for you, too.”

She looks up at me, her face lit up with surprise. “You do?”

The only possible answer? I give in to the urge to kiss her, long and wild and fierce, pulling her up from her seat so that I can dip her back in my arms, exploring her mouth with my tongue, giving her another taste of the power I can have over her.

And Angelica—she gives herself over to it completely, melting into my arms like it’s the only place she’s ever wanted to be. She throws her arms around my neck, holds on so tight that it makes me think she’s weak in the knees. From the way her hands still tremble, maybe she is.

It doesn’t matter. I keep kissing her until we’re both gasping for breath, and when she finally pulls away, her eyes are bright, dancing.

“Jett Brandon,” she says, patting the corners of her mouth with the back of her hand. “You had me going there for a minute.”

“You’ve had me going for a lot longer than that.”

She bursts out laughing, then narrows her eyes. “Now that we’ve...had this talk, is it going to be awkward if I keep staying at your place?” Something flickers across her face, but it doesn’t last long enough to disrupt the teasing smile that she can’t seem to wipe off.

I kiss her again, harder this time, faster, rougher, and then lock my eyes on her. “Angelica Chandler, if you leave right now, I’ll never forgive you.”