I can barely keep my anger in check. Not just anger, either. Jealousy. Jealousy so intense, it’s almost difficult to breathe properly.

What’s happening to me? When did I become this Neanderthal? I don’t like feeling this way, as though there’s a boa constrictor around my chest while my blood is boiling at the same time. I hear the rushing through my ears as I wish to God she would leave the office and give me back some semblance of privacy.

“Is that all?” I ask, barely managing to keep from snarling, eyes still focused on my screen. I can’t look at her. I can’t imagine her with another man. It’s too much, after what we just did. I can still taste her. I know it’s a man. I could tell by the flash of guilt in her eyes. How could she rush off to have lunch with another man after being with me? She sure does get around.

Is that really who she is? Looks like once again, I’ve deluded myself into seeing qualities in a woman which simply aren’t there.

“Lincoln…” She lingers by my door, clearly unwilling to leave things as they are.

I want to tell her to get lost and never come back because damn it, I can’t stand who she’s turning me into. If this is the way it’s going to be, I don’t know that even the most explosive sex ever is worth it. “Shouldn’t you be on your way to your lunch date?” I ask, cutting her off.

“It’s not exactly—”

“For fuck’s sake. Can’t you take a hint?” I finally look at her and the jealous, petty part of me relishes the look of dismay on her face. “We had fun and I’ve got to get back to work.”

For a second, she looks stricken, as if I just cut her with her knife. Then she lifts her chin. “Sure. Enjoy your work” She opens the door and closes it softly behind her. Still the professional. At least, she can say that for herself.

I, on the other hand, cannot say any such thing. I push away from my desk and pace the floor restlessly.

What hell is wrong with me? Have I completely lost my mind?

I’m behaving like a class one asshole. But what am I supposed to think, when she goes from fucking me on the edge of my desk to telling me she has lunch plans with somebody else? What’s so important about her plans that she can’t cancel them in favor of lunch with me?

Which is part of the reason I know she’s going out with a man. Does she look at him the way she does at me? Does she make him feel like he’s the most important person in the world? Does he feel like a king when he’s inside her?

“Damn it,” I growl, going back to my chair. I sink into it, but shoot up again. I stand and run my hands through my hair. Trying to work is a complete waste of time now. I shouldn’t have let it happen. I should’ve congratulated her for working so hard and let that be the end of it. What is it about her that makes her impossible to resist? Like she’s a drug I can’t get enough of now that I’ve gotten a taste.

I run my tongue over my lips, picking up the last lingering bit of her there.

Fuck, how am I supposed to forget her? I don’t want to forget her. I don’t want to learn to live without ever feeling again, the passion she sparks in me. I didn’t know I was capable of anything close to what she does to me. I don’t know that I’ll ever find a woman who can do the same.

Damn it, indeed. I need to get out of this room. I can’t sit here at this desk, minutes after we used it for other things, knowing she’s going to meet up with someone else. I can still smell her perfume and the scent we created together.

A short walk around the block should do the trick.

I barrel my way down the hall and into the elevator before anybody can try to pull me aside with their bullshit. I’m already notorious for my short fuse when interrupted with trivialities, but my reaction if anyone should interrupt me right now, would put any prior blow-ups to shame.

When I reach the lobby and step off the elevator, I catch sight of something unexpected—and not entirely welcome. There she is, walking through the revolving doors and out to the sidewalk. Nobody would know that I just fucked her on my office desk less than fifteen minutes ago. She looks absolutely calm and put together.

I hate myself for this, but I need to know. I start to follow her. I need to be sure of who she’s meeting up with. If it’s a man, I want to know who the man is. I want to be able to size him up and understand whom I’m truly up against. And if it is a girlfriend, or her mother or something, I’ll feel like the world’s biggest jackass, but I’ll also be the happiest jackass in the universe.

She’s on the sidewalk now, looking both ways.

Is he late? Standing her up, maybe? Does she feel her heart sinking, the way mine sank when she turned me down for lunch? God, if I were to meet me on the street right now, I’d look at myself with nothing but pity. Maybe a little contempt, come to think of it. I’ve never followed a woman before. I’ve never acted like a stalker. Yet, here I am, practically sneaking up behind her.

A long, sleek, black car pulls up fairly close to where she’s waiting, and the rear door opens. A man climbs out.

I snarl, my lip curling in disgust. And that’s before I recognize who it is. When I do, the blood that was just moments ago racing like fire through my veins turns to ice.

Vince Weissman. That bastard.

How dare he even step foot in front of my building?

He ushers her into his car and follows her, casting a hasty look behind him before closing the door. The car speeds off to wherever the two of them are going.

While I stand here, reeling.

Sam? Having lunch with the CEO of Arcane Technologies? It doesn’t make any sense. Why would she be going out with him? Especially after…

The truth hits me like a ton of bricks. Jesus Christ!

Especially after, she just finalized the changes to the prototype. Changes which will ensure it runs properly during the demo and every time after that.

It can’t be.

Have I really been so blind?

Have I made the biggest mistake of my life in trusting her, bringing her into my confidence, allowing her such access to something which has meant almost as much to me as my own child? This drone and the technology behind it have the ability to make or break my company. Everything is riding on this.

And she just rode off with the man who’s probably my only true enemy.

I walk back to the bank of elevators in a daze, like a man who’s just been through a bombing or climbed out of car wreck. I don’t know which end is up right now. I feel as if I have completely lost my grip on reality. Sam? Sam is the leak. The rat! I don’t want to believe she could have anything to do with the leak, but it’s the only answer that makes sense.

I barely feel the elevator rising up to the top floor as I go over the facts of the situation.

All right. Logic. No more thinking with my dick. Just pure logic.

No more than a few weeks after Ryland hired her—maybe a month, I’ll have to check the specifics in her file—we found out about the leak when Arcane came forward with their version of my drone. Which means they had enough time to make use of the stolen plans. It isn’t as though I made it easy for anyone to do it—I even made sure to order separate files for each aspect of the design: exterior, power, fuel, structure, aerodynamics. Someone would have to have accessed all of it to make use of any of it.

She could’ve easily done it. Ryland has access to all of the files, as does Lou, Ralph, and probably Steve. And me. We’re the only five people. But she might have caught sight of Ryland while he inadvertently went through the files at some point. After all, they work very closely together and she definitely could have had access to those designs.

Now’s not the time for that. I can’t go to him before I have it out with her. So help me God, if she tells him what she discovered today…

By the time I reach the top floor, the numbing shock has worn off. All that is left is cold fury. That bitch. She thinks she can ruin me with her body? I never suspected her for a moment. It makes me feel sick to think of how easily she played me. Hell, I dropped into her hands like an overripe fruit.

I shake my head. Incredible. Her working for the enemy behind my back. It’s almost exactly like what I did with Regina…I imagined it all in my head. She’d been so ready and willing to fuck me because she was screwing me. It would be funny if it weren’t so sickening. God, she’s probably sleeping with Weissman too. It turns my stomach to imagine his liver spotted hand on her creamy skin. My gut burns.

Fuck you, Sam Harper.

I slam my fist on the wall outside Erica’s office. The pain radiates into my arm.

Erica comes running out, and stares at me with widened eyes. “What’s the matter?” she gasps.

“Nothing,” I snarl and walk past her.

I stopped thinking with my brain from the moment I saw her. Not anymore.   

She has no idea who she’s dealing with. Neither of them do.