Page 60 of Mr. Wilde

But even when he’s acting gruff and insensitive, there have been moments where he seems lost. Sure, with my training, I’m probably reading too much into our interactions, looking for answers where they don’t exist. Max made it clear the kiss was a mistake, that he’s not a good man. But I didn’t miss the hurt in his eyes.

Still, I have enough issues of my own. And what’s more, I can’t lose this job.

“You okay?” Fern asks, appearing at my side with a tray of empty flutes. She’s curiously watching Max’s retreat.

I stand up taller, knowing I did the right thing, pushing back. “Yes. Great,” I reply, turning back to my work.

Three Days Later

Max is back, and his energy is... well, off. He seems overeager, almost frantic for my help. It’s a complete 180 from the man who brushed me off. I tell myself this is strictly professional. Yet as Max scoots a chair over, dragging it right beside his, the scent of his cologne affects me like a love potion. I have to close my eyes and steady myself so I don’t get caught in his spell.

“Look at this,” he says, pointing to a familiar stream of data.

I sit down, staring at the screen. Why is this file so much harder to sort through than the others? Is it because I’m going in without any background info? It’s far more difficult than any assignment I’ve had in my digital forensics classes.

Or is it that I’m doing this while seated next to him, feeling the heat of his arm inches from mine? Maybe I need some space. There are too many random passersby here. But he’d never let me leave with his laptop.

“I think I’m getting distracted,” I admit, my eyes blurring over the numbers. “I need a quieter location for this.”

He chuckles, the rich timbre doing something inconvenient to my heart. “Quiet has the opposite effect on me,” Max says softly, looking at me instead of the screen. “The silence only makes the noise in my head louder.” He pauses, rubbing his fingers over the stubble on his chin. I can see him weighing his next words. “Maybe a change of scenery would help. Any chance you’d be interested in coming back to my hotel?”

My eyes are suddenly wide as saucers. The memory of what happened in Gianni’s office comes reeling back. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

He leans in, his voice dropping to a low, persuasive hum. “I’d invite you to my home office, but we’d have to take the jet at this hour. The traffic from here to my house would be brutal.”

My stomach flips. His home office? That isn’t just a change of scenery. That’s an invitation into Max’s inner sanctum.

“But I’m staying close by at the Windsor. I’m in the presidential suite, so there’s a large dining room we can work at. And I’d be able to give you space if you needed it.”

Space to try to sort through the data without giving me too much access to his laptop, he means. But I understand. He said he’s trying to protect me. And whether I’m disappointed at how he’s back-stepped that moment in Gianni’s office or not, I have no reason to doubt him.

I stare at him, my brain trying to process the invitation. A week ago, I was just a server wiping down tables, and now a billionaire hacker is asking me to his private lair to look at encrypted phone records.

My pulse does a nervous little skip. Calm down, Cass. Stop acting like a lovesick fool. He’s trying to find the best way to accommodate my need for quiet, while still being able to supervise.

The rational part of my brain is screaming, Don’t do it!

We’ve managed to keep this a professional relationship in this environment. Well, except for that one little mistake. The two of us alone working in a hotel room could be dangerous. If we go there, there’s no built-in work-related barrier. No Gianni nearby to interrupt with a well-timed knock. No co-workers to pull me away for a glass of water. It would just be us, the phone records, and that heavy, magnetic pull I’m still pretending I don’t feel.

I should be nervous at the prospect of leaving this secure club. Heading into the unknown with a man who gives me emotional whiplash. But regardless of how things have been between us lately, I trust him.

Looking back down at the screen, the data feels as if it’s mocking me. I’m an overachiever too. The thought of finally solving this puzzle, and proving I’m not just a pink-haired fascination but someone with real competence, is intoxicating. I want to find the hidden answer in the data he’s looking for.

And if I’m being honest, I want to spend time alone with him. As risky as that may be.

“The hotel staff has worked with me to ensure I won’t be interrupted unless they’ve been summoned. My hotspot firewall is secure,” he adds, his voice dropping an octave as if he’s reading my hesitation. “There will be no distractions. And... I’ll make sure there’s plenty of coffee. Good coffee.” He winks.

Oh, lord. Keep doing that and all bets are off. There will be no focusing on getting the job done with that sexy stuff happening.

I consider his prior warning that he’s not a good man. I think about how he pushed me away after the kiss, his tattered control finally winning out. Should I be worried, being trapped there without an escape?

“I have my own car,” I say, my voice surprising me with its steadiness. I’m not letting him drive me. I need an exit strategy. “And I might only be able to stay for a few hours.”

Max nods, a flicker of something in his deep blue eyes. Is it relief? “Whatever makes you more comfortable, Cass. You can follow me. It’s about twenty minutes from here.”

My heart pounds against my ribs as he tucks his laptop into his bag. I can’t even decide what it is that’s making me so anxious. Leaving here? The chance of finally solving this case?

Or being alone with him?