Page 73 of What Comes Around

I blinked in surprise but slid into the seat anyway. The door closed behind me, sealing us into the warm, dim interior.

Knox looked at me for a moment, his gaze moving slowly over the coat, the dress beneath it, my hair, my face. Something flickered in his expression before it disappeared.

“I thought you were sending a car,” I said quietly.

“I was,” he replied. “Then I changed my mind.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to speak to you before dinner.”

I raised a brow. “About what?”

“They will ask about the ten year revenue curve,” he said. “Specifically the second phase.”

“I already submitted the breakdown.”

“They will test you,” he said quietly. “On margins. On timelines. On risk.”

“I know the numbers.”

“I know you do,” he replied. “I needed you to remember that before walking into that room.”

I didn’t argue. He could have said all of this at the restaurant, but I let it go and turned my attention to the window, watching the passing lights blur against the glass.

The car merged onto the highway, the city skyline faint in the distance.

Nathan’s voice carried from the front. “We’ll be downtown in twenty minutes, sir.”

Knox gave a short nod.

I folded my hands in my lap and stared ahead, the hum of the engine filling the silence between us. Knox didn’t look at me again, but I could feel the awareness radiating off him, sharp and controlled.

He hadn’t come just to talk about revenue curves.

We both knew that.

The dinner was held in a private dining room at one of Sinclair’s newest high-end casino properties, a place closed to the public for the night. Crystal chandeliers reflected off polished black marble floors. A single large round table dominated the room, dressed in white linen and heavy silverware. Place cards marked every seat with deliberate care.

The guest list was selective.

There were senior executives from Sinclair Enterprises, department heads from Development, Marketing, and Security, and three potential investment partners from overseas. These were not casual clients. They were people considering buying into Sinclair’s next project, a luxury entertainment complex that combined a casino, private club, and exclusive underground gaming lounge for ultra-wealthy members.

The purpose of the evening was simple.

Convince them.

I was there because I had built the development projections for the project. The models that showed how much money the complex would generate over ten years.

Knox walked beside me as we entered the dining room. He removed his coat, and Nathan took mine. Cool air brushed across my back as the silk shifted.

I didn’t miss Knox’s swift intake of breath behind me.

The deep V of the dress left my entire back exposed. I pretended not to notice his reaction and moved toward the table.

He himself did not look bad. I saw him in tailored suits every day, always impeccably groomed, always smelling faintly of something expensive. But it never got old.

The attraction was there, undeniable.