His eyes flicked to my face, dark and unreadable. “Accusing one of your own?”
“I learned from the best.” My voice came out sharper than I intended, so I softened it with a smile.
He tilted his head, considering. I hated the way his gaze made me feel like an equation he was solving.
“Permission to access your terminal?”
“Don’t you already have it?” I lifted my chin, daring him.
He reached past me, his left hand skimming the armrest of my chair. My pulse stuttered. He typed fast, faster than I did, and I typed like my life depended on it, pulling up hidden logs, reading them at a glance. The screen’s glow lit the hard lines of his jaw.
He muttered something under his breath, too low to catch. I was acutely aware of the inch between his leg and my thigh.
“You could’ve called this in,” he said, eyes never leaving the screen.
“And give the enemy my battle plans?” I shot back.
He finally smiled, the real one. “Smart, root out the rat, catch them in the act.”
The words hit me like a static shock. My whole body went alert. This wasn’t how our days usually went. I’d expected sparring, not a freaking compliment.
I looked away, grabbing a sticky note and rolling it between my fingers to give my hands something to do. “Didn’t realize I was auditioning.”
“Everyone’s always auditioning,” Gabriel said. His tone was soft, but the look he gave me was anything but. “Especially at this level.”
For a moment, the room felt too small. The drone of the HVAC faded, replaced by the thump of my own heartbeat. I should have put the heels back on, told him to take his sexy logic elsewhere.
Instead, I stuck the sticky note to my desk and let myself watch him. The way he leaned into the monitor’s light. The subtle scar above his eyebrow, visible only when his face was at rest. The disciplined tension in his posture; like if he ever relaxed, he’d dissolve.
“What is it you want, really?” I asked and immediately regretted it. It sounded needy. Weak.
Gabriel didn’t blink. “I want this company running at peak efficiency. And I want people who know how to handle themselves, even when someone’s sabotaging them from the inside.”
A not-quite-answer. Classic.
“And personally?” I pushed.
He tapped a key, then looked down at me. “I want to see if you can outlast whoever’s trying to shake you.”
I felt my face flush. He made it sound like a dare. Heck, it almost sounded like an invitation.
I rolled my chair away from the desk, giving myself a breath of space. “If you’re offering help, I’ll take it. But if you’re just here to watch me sweat, there’s a waiting list.”
He laughed, low and genuine. “Eliza, if I wanted to watch you sweat, I’d be less subtle.”
My breath caught. Neither of us moved.
Then he took a step toward me. Just one, but enough to make my skin tighten. “Would it be so bad if you let someone help, just once?”
I forced myself to hold his gaze. “I can handle this.”
“Of course, you can.” He dropped his voice, made it velvet. “But you don’t have to do it alone.”
The silence between us was no longer awkward. It was thick, anticipatory. My breath slowed. For a second, I thought he might kiss me, right here, right now, against the desk and my own better judgment.
Was I dreaming again?
His hand hovered at my elbow, close enough that I could feel the static between us. I found myself leaning forward, the way you do when your body betrays your brain.