“Yes, ma’am,” Jesse answered with a nod. His fingers miraculously appeared on her upper arm, encircling it without her having seen him reach out to her. “And um, about that fraternizing situation we talked about?”
Stella’s heart slammed into her ribcage as she fought to keep her face expressionless. She’d read somewhere that the heart was a wild thing, that’s why ribs made a cage. It made total sense in that moment. Her heart was ready to take flight.
“Yeah?”
“Just…be careful, okay?”
Stella nodded as he released her arm and walked away. She wanted to ask if he meant be careful because he’d just told his dad what he’d seen or be careful because he was privy to some information about Van that she wasn’t. Her mind threatened to race off with her worries, but Dr. Ramirez effectively distracted her.
“Did you bring the notes on the checklist?”
“Yes, sir,” Stella answered, handing him the folder with the notes as she stepped into his office.
She straightened the skirt of her navy dress and sat in a plush leather chair across from him. Dr. Ramirez took the folder and scanned its contents. Fidgeting with the buttons on her cream-colored cardigan sweater, she waited for him to reveal that he knew everything, that he was disappointed in her, and that she was fired. A career in crime was definitely out for her. She felt like her every transgression was displayed on her face in Technicolor.
Instead, he pulled off his glasses and smiled warmly at her. “This will do just fine, Miss Chandler.” He handed the folder back to her. “The goal is to have all of these completed by the end of the week. Probably best to go in order of client surname.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, standing. “I’ll get them back to you as soon as possible.”
One week. There were nearly sixty clients currently at SCR—one who she was especially nervous about asking some of the questions on the checklist. But this was the job. She’d signed up for it, sought it out before she’d had any idea that she would encounter the enigma of a man that was Van Ransom.
On Thursday, Stella made it to the W’s.
Van had helped out down at the barn Monday and Tuesday evening, but Jesse had been there as well. Other than a few sly grins, he hadn’t even really spoken to her.
Which infuriated her.
She knew it wasn’t rational. It wasn’t like she was waiting for him to ask her to the prom. But surely he didn’t go around tying up women and giving them violent orgasms like it was nothing.
Surely it had meant something to him? Hadn’t it? Hadn’t she?
Her birthday was coming up, and Miranda wanted to go out for drinks again. She liked the friendly woman, was excited to actually have a friend. But Stella was nervous. She was bursting at the seams and utterly terrified that she was going to pour out her every thought since Saturday on anyone who was willing to listen.
Despite the lost sleep and painfully vivid fantasies that had plagued her, she was going to get through the checklist with Van if it killed her. Which it felt like it might.
She was determined not to let him see how much he’d affected her. Logically, she should’ve been thrilled that he wasn’t doing anything that would have looked suspicious to Jesse Ramirez. But logic wasn’t a factor in the equation of how she felt about the mysterious man who had taken over her thoughts.
Her stomach tightened as the butterflies in it began forming a mosh pit. Wiping her sweaty palms on her white wrap dress, she took a deep breath and knocked on his door.
When he opened the door in nothing but a towel, droplets of water still clinging to his expansive and artful chest, she almost let out a hysterical giggle.
Holy hell, she wanted to lick that water from his body. Dragging her eyes up to his, she tried not to notice that they were sparkling with amusement.
“Have I caught you at a bad time, Mr. Walker?”
The left side of his mouth quirked up. “I’d say you caught me at the perfect time, cowgirl.” He opened his door farther.
Stella squared her shoulders. “There’s a checklist we need to complete. But there’s no rush. We can do it another time.”
Van’s brow creased. “That’s too bad. I was hoping you were off the clock and looking for a good time.”
A good time.
That’s what it was then. Apparently that’s all it was. The questions buzzing like angry hornets in her head dropped dead immediately. She forced herself to accept it for what it was and ignore the stomach-plummeting disappointment it caused.
What he called a good time had felt like so much more to her. Because she was naïve and obviously an idiot. Her chest felt strangely hollow.
“Perhaps we should do this in the Atrium. Let me know when is convenient for you.”
Just as she turned to leave, a warm hand gripped her upper arm. His grip was much tighter than Jesse Ramirez’s had been. Her eyes went wide as she took in his hand on her and the possessive glint in his eyes.
“Not a chance in hell I’m letting you go when you show up on my doorstep looking like that.”
She glanced down at the plain white dress and back at him.
“You look like a virgin being offered up for sacrifice.”
“I can assure you I’m not.” She focused on her breathing as she stepped inside. She hadn’t exactly been completely sober last time she was here. Nor had she paid much attention to the décor.
It wasn’t quite as cozy as her bungalow. She passed through a small kitchenette and spotted a black leather couch across from a fireplace. Her eyes landed on a giant buffalo head above the fireplace.
“That’s Dave,” Van informed her.
“You named him?” She couldn’t help but grin.
“He’s an excellent roommate. Never complains about noise and cleans up after himself.”
“I see.” She bit her lip to keep from giggling.
“Have a seat. Let’s get this checklist business over with so we can get to more important things.” He aimed a pointed glance at the table where he’d tongue fucked her nearly to death.
Stella’s entire body flushed to the point of painful burning. Ignoring his insinuation, she lowered herself onto a kitchen chair. Fighting off the memory of him growling against her open legs when that same chair hadn’t provided him the access he’d wanted, she pulled out her folder.
“Um, this shouldn’t take long.”
“I have all the time in the world, cowgirl.” He eased onto the couch and she looked anywhere but at him.
“You could, um, change. Or put some clothes on. I can wait.”
“I’m good,” he said with a shrug as he stretched an arm with intricate tattoos wrapped around it onto the back of the couch. “Unless you’re uncomfortable?”
Stella took a deep breath. She was as uncomfortable as it got. Her heart was racing, her pulse seemed to have sped to an astronomical rate, and the steady throbbing between her legs was causing her to sweat.
“It’s like you’re torturing me on purpose,” she admitted, pointing her pen at him.
His answering grin revealed that he was enjoying every minute of her discomfort.
“Now you know how I feel when you strut around in those fucking heels.”
Crossing her legs, Stella leaned back and focused on the checklist in her lap. “Let’s just get on with it, shall we?”
“By all means.”
Taking a deep breath in hopes of sucking in some courage, she read the first question carefully. “On a scale of one to ten, one being unsatisfactory and ten being ideal, how would you rate the accommodations here at SCR?”
Van glanced over at Dave and then back to her. “Dave says a ten. We rate it a ten.”
Stella circled the number ten and bit the inside of her cheek. He was nothing if not charming. Damn him.