Chapter Seven
Three sharp raps sounded against Darya’s front door, jerking her out of a dead sleep and upright in bed. Her heart kicked and sputtered while she blinked and brought her eyes into focus. Soft early-morning sunlight slipped past her bedroom blinds and blanketed her room in a muted glow. The dim drone of traffic from the highway sounded in the distance, but otherwise everything was quiet. Peaceful.
She shoved her hair out of her face. Maybe she’d dreamed the sound. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d been jolted awake by a nightmare, but she’d hoped after a six-month stretch without one, they’d finally ceased.
She dropped to her back, rolled toward the nightstand and fumbled for her phone. Her favorite wolf graphic glowed on the lock screen, a bold 7:02 a.m. displayed across the black-haired predator as he howled up to a full moon.
It had to be a dream. Beyond the occasional maintenance man, she never had visitors, and they’d never knock on her door this early. She laid back down and curled on her side, tucking one hand under her pillow as her eyes slipped closed.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Her eyes snapped open and she squeezed the phone still nestled in her palm so hard it groaned. No way that was her imagination. Pulse lurching to a jog, she swept her legs out from between the cool sheets and snagged her fluffy gray robe off the floor where it had fallen sometime in the night. She crept toward the living room, careful not to make a sound. It couldn’t be Ruslan. Knocking was too foreign of a concept for a man like him.
Then again, it could be he’d merely caught a lead as to where she lived and was fleshing her out. He might be arrogant, but he wasn’t stupid enough to draw unnecessary attention. She belted her robe with a firm tug, gently pressed her palms against the door’s cool surface and rolled up on her tiptoes for the peep hole.
Sunlight shafted from the eastern horizon, casting whoever stood outside in a vibrant halo. They lifted their hand to knock again, blocking the sun’s rays just enough to bring their face into focus.
Knox.
His knuckles connected with the thick wood and she jumped back, the lingering vibration zinging through her body as powerful as a live current.
“Just a minute.” She winced at her obviously frazzled voice and combed her fingers through her hair. So much for making a solid follow up impression. She might not wear heavy makeup most days, but she’d at least like to have a little on when face-to-face with a prospective boss. Even nearing her third year in America, she’d yet to shake the need impressed on most Russian women to primp and prepare before presenting herself in public.
On the bright side, her short robe was cute with silver worked into the gray chenille and did a decent job of hiding her stick figure. She flipped the deadbolt, braced long enough to suck in a steadying breath, then pasted on a bright smile as she opened the door. “Hello.”
Knox turned, his hands planted on his hips and a scowl on his face that made her rethink having opened the door.
Until his expression shifted.
One measly second and the predator on her doorstep morphed from impatient bystander to focused hunter. Slow and steady, his gaze trailed the length of her, the heat in his gaze thicker than the hottest Texas afternoon. His attention snagged on the deep neckline of her robe and, for a second, she’d swear he’d clued in to her lack of clothing underneath.
Her breasts grew heavy and her nipples puckered against the soft fabric. She fisted the lapels above her heart to try and cover her body’s all too willing reaction. “Is everything okay?”
Whether it was the huskiness in her voice or the question itself that broke his focus, she wasn’t sure, but his gaze shot to hers and his voice came out deep and rumbling like it was hard to speak it all. “I woke you up.”
“I worked late last night.” Granted, the last hour before she’d nodded off had involved a few toys and a whole lot of sexual frustration, but he didn’t need to know that. She stepped back enough to motion him through the doorway. “Do you want to come in? I can make some coffee.”
He glanced at the parking lot, frowned as though questioning the wisdom of being there and raked his hand through his already mussed hair. Instead of turning her down like she expected, he stepped across the threshold. “Coffee’s probably a good idea.”
She shut the door behind him, pausing a moment to watch him unhindered while he openly perused her space. The barest hint of his subtle but sexy scent lingered in his wake, a rich black currant mingled with woodsmoke that made her think of cold winter nights spent tangled and sweaty in bed with a lover. His navy blue T-shirt was a little rumpled and had a caption styled like a neon beer sign that read, Live Every Day Like It’s Taco Tuesday. On anyone else it would have looked cheesy, but on him it was cute.
And crazy sexy.
Forcing herself out of her visual indulgence, she hurried to the kitchen and set about prepping coffee.
“Sorry about waking you up,” he said. “I don’t sleep much. Sometimes I forget the rest of the world doesn’t suffer that problem.”
She stole a peek over one shoulder.
He stood with hands planted on each hip and stared up at the winter wolves painting JJ had given her for her first Christmas in America. Even without Knox’s attention aimed her direction, energy fairly poured off him. So much so, she wasn’t entirely sure plying him with more caffeine was a good idea. He already looked like he’d downed three pots of coffee and a few Red Bulls for good measure. “It’s okay. My alarm would have gone off in another thirty minutes anyway.”
As soon as she pushed the brew button, he faced her, which made her wonder if he hadn’t been clued in to her every move the entire time. He prowled forward, eyes roving her apartment as though cataloguing every inch. Glancing back toward her bedroom, his gait hitched the tiniest bit when his gaze landed on her disheveled bed. He recovered fast, though, locking stares with her and motioning toward her desk chair with a jerk of his head. “Sit.”
“It would be rude to sit while you stood.” She motioned to the couch behind him. “We can sit there if you like.”
He grinned, leaned his shoulder against the wall that separated her galley kitchen from the living room and crossed his arms. “If you’re gonna argue every time I tell you to do something, me teaching you isn’t gonna last long.”
“But—”
“I’m not the formal sit-on-the-sofa-and-chat type. I sprawl. Usually with a computer or a game controller in my hands. Considering I barely know you and my laptop’s out in the car, I’m not gonna kick my feet up on your pristine cushions and make myself at home. At least not yet. Now, sit.”
She bit back pointing out that she wasn’t a dog, but just barely.
The full-on smile he shot her said she’d conveyed the thought regardless. “You sure you want to work with me?”
Lifting one brow, she practically stomped to her chair and planted her butt in the seat but did it sideways so she kept him in her direct line of sight.
His attention dropped to the hem of her robe where it rested mid-thigh and his smile slipped.
For a second, she couldn’t breathe. Could only focus on the building pulse and ready slickness between her legs. The way he looked at her, the intensity behind it, she could almost imagine his touch, warm and confident as it slipped between her knees up the insides of her thighs until he cupped her sex.
He pushed off the wall and meandered to the kitchen counter, thankfully shattering the moment before she did something stupid like peel her robe back and take care of business herself.
“You might as well learn up front, I’m bossy as hell,” he said. “I’ve got a certain way I do things. Nothing half-ass.” He opened the cabinet right above her coffee maker and snagged a mug like he’d been there a thousand times before.
She snapped taller in her chair. “How’d you know where the cups were?”
“Why’d you put ’em right above the coffee maker?”
“Because that’s where they’re most convenient.”
He glanced back at her, smirked and shut the cabinet door. “That’s how I knew.” He scanned her tidy countertop. “You do milk or sugar?”
“I can make my own.”
“Didn’t ask that. I asked if you take milk or sugar.”
“No. I like it better black.”
“That because you don’t have a sweet tooth, or because you like to hurry up and get down to business?”
She swallowed, the tone in his voice making her question if they were talking about coffee preferences or something far more personal. “I like to get down to business.”
He nodded, but his lips twitched as though fighting back another smile. Turning, he rested his hips against the countertop and curled his fingers around the edge. “Where were we?”
“You’re bossy and nothing half-ass,” she said before her brain could check the flippant retort.
This time he didn’t even try to hide the grin. “When Jason was extolling my virtues, did he also happen to mention I’m arrogant, compulsively organized, controlling and nosey in a way you’re sure to hate inside of one week?”
“I promise you, I’ve met men far more arrogant and controlling than you, and I’m certain I could top your organizational skills if given a chance. So, if you’re trying to scare me off, it won’t work. If you don’t want to take a chance on me, then speak your mind and move on, but I’m not stopping until I’m successful. The only uncertainty is the path I take to get there.”
She wasn’t sure what response she’d expected her rant to generate. Surprise maybe. Irritation for sure. After all, he’d pushed her buttons this morning, so turnabout was fair play. But instead of either, he clipped a quick nod. “Good answer. God knows, you’re gonna need that attitude to get you through the next few months.”
Behind him, the coffee machine spewed and gurgled the last of its cycle.
Knox pushed off the counter, turned and pulled the carafe off the burner. “I doubt you’ve checked your email since I woke you up, but you’ll find three links to different training programs I’ve set up for you.”
“You did?” She spun to her computer and waggled her mouse to bring her screen to life. “There wasn’t anything when I went to sleep last night.”
“Like I said, I don’t sleep much.” The clunk and slide of the coffeepot moving across the warmer sounded behind her mixed with the hiss of a few coffee drops sizzling against the plate. “That’s another thing you’ll have to get used to. I do most of my code reviews overnight so expect to get hit first thing in the morning.”
Zeroing in on his email the second it loaded in her inbox, she clicked on the first of the training links. A browser session opened listing at least fifteen modules with descriptions too dense with information to process with him watching over her shoulder.
Movement sounded and his voice drew closer. “You want to work with me, you’ve got two hurdles to clear. First, I want you to finish all the sessions on the first course I listed and get me the sample code you generate from it by 5:00 p.m. Friday. You make it to that point without jumping out the window or calling me to cry uncle, then I’ll pick you up at eight on Saturday night for the second leg.”
He plunked the coffee down on the desk right beside her hand, dug his wallet out of his back pocket and fished out a business card. He waggled it a few times then plunked it down next to the mug. “You want to wave the white flag, here’s my number.”
For the longest time her mind struggled to catch up, the sheer logistics of completing what he’d asked in two days’ time scrambling her wits. The sessions she’d done before had taken her twice as long, and she’d bet a carte blanche Neiman Marcus shopping spree he knew it.
Knox stared down at her, that edgy charisma that clung to him sparking twice as hot and a blazing dare burning in his eyes. “You think you can do it?”
Maybe. She’d have to give up sleep and possibly meals to pull it off, but she wouldn’t tell him that. “Absolutely.”
“Good.” He turned and ambled toward the door.
“You’re leaving?”
“Yep,” he said without looking back.
“But you didn’t drink your coffee.”
“The coffee’s for you. Trust me. You’re gonna need it.”
He opened the door.
She glanced down at his card beside the coffee cup. What had he said about Saturday and a second task? She scrambled to her feet. “Wait.”
He paused mid-closing the door behind him, one hand still wrapped around the knob as he looked back and raised both eyebrows.
“What’s the second hurdle?”
One corner of his mouth crooked wickedly, all bad boy promise and devilish delight. “You meet my brothers.”