The Last Heartbeat Read online

  Her attention ripped from him and snapped to Daniel Ari beside her.

  The man placed a hand on her shoulder and whispered something into her ear. Luke’s stomach clenched. Perhaps Daniel was the reason she had visited this office. The boyfriend or husband scenario he’d imagined, though he knew Daniel wasn’t married.

  Luke shelved his jealousy for a moment and swayed his focus onto the disheveled room. Every employee had turned to stare at him, gape-mouthed.

  A low growl ground within his throat.

  Did these people have no concept of poverty or hunger? Or the privilege and responsibility that came with having access to so much food? His chest burned at the vast unnecessary waste splattered all over his walls, carpets, furniture, staff…

  He snapped his gaze to his younger brother and charged ahead, stopping only when he reached Max, then pressed a hand to Max’s shoulder, fingers aching to shake some sense into him once and for all. “Fix this disaster.”

  Max had the sense to bow his head and nod. His cheeks flushed, like a child who’d tried to behave, but had once again fallen victim to impulse. Which in Max’s case, was almost always the way. “I’ve done it again, haven’t I?”

  Luke just glared. “We’ll talk later.”

  And they would talk, just not here. Max might be a walking disaster, but he didn’t deserve public humiliation.

  Max nodded again, and Luke turned away. Most employees had ceased staring and peeled back to their desks. Agathe merely stood where he’d left her, a strained expression only slightly recovered from her earlier shock.

  Her ashen frown zapped every desire he might have had to gloat. The smudges of food on her demure gray jacket made his face heat and tingle with shame. No matter her reasons for being here, her welcome to his office shouldn’t have included a hell-walk through utter disrespect. No one deserved that, least of all this woman with her jagged edges and open vulnerability.

  He strode ahead and stifled his anger, along with an urge to fire whoever had dared to launch food at her.

  “Can I talk to Agathe alone?” he asked Daniel.

  Daniel shrugged. “Sure thing.”

  And before long, the man had disappeared somewhere across the room.

  Luke latched his focus on Agathe, though his eyes stung from matching the fiery glare she lobbed his way. He wished he knew what had happened to make him so repellent, but then, unlike her, he wouldn’t skulk away at the hint of an issue. “Why are you in my office?”

  She jerked back, with two deep furrow lines etched between her brows. “Your office?” Her gaze flitted around his face, as if seeing him anew, as if computing a multitude of possibilities. As if weighing up a not-so hidden compulsion to run.

  “I’m a management consultant on hire here.” Her dark stare grew murky, though she shrugged, a poor attempt at feigning indifference. “I’m supposed to offer advice on this company’s current problems, though any idiot could see what those problems are.” She waved a hand over her ruined outfit. “A full-blown exorcism would do more to fix this mess than any service I could provide. Is this place always such a disaster?”

  Despite her cutting assessment, he barely held back on a laugh. Perhaps she hadn’t quite figured out his role in this place. “So, I should fire you and call a priest?”

  Paleness once more drained her warm complexion, as though the word “fire” confirmed an understanding of her rank here. Still, her fearless approach was exactly what he needed. Her unabashed digs and dark quirks would also go well in his office.

  And unbeknownst to Agathe, he had no intention of letting her go.

  5

  Luke Tindall… CEO.

  Agathe blinked at the sign on the frosted-glass door and licked her dry lips, nodding to herself. Yep, this looked about right. Of course, this little factoid about Luke being Tiluma’s CEO would fit within the usual shitty run of things in her life. Of course, Luke didn’t just work here. When he’d asked her to continue the conversation in his office, he’d meant literally his office. Because anything less than the man behind her almost-sexcapade being the owner of this entire, goddamn, multi-million-dollar company would mean her lifelong run of bad fortune had ended. And heavens knew, there’d be something majorly wrong with the universe if Agathe Santos’ luck actually did improve.

  He peered down at her, a glint in his eye. “Are you okay?”

  She narrowed her gaze. Don’t rub it in, you jerk. Don’t you dare make me feel worse for turning you down!

  She lifted her chin in a misleading signal she was just fine. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

  He raised his brows and then pushed through the glass door.

  She huffed out a breath and trudged on in behind him, hating the sudden quiet, hating the way she’d already checked out his ass, a firm ass that conjured up thoughts of other firm body parts. Body parts that just months ago she’d wanted way too close to her own body parts.

  She’d done her research. Knew Tiluma’s CEO was named Luke Tindall. The first two letters of the company’s name came from his surname, Tindall, the next letters were a combination of his and Max’s first letters stuck together. Ti-lu-ma. Tindall, Luke, Max. God, I’m dumber than a box of rocks. But then again, there’d been no online photos of Tiluma’s elusive CEO. Of course not. So, she hadn’t connected Luke Tindall, “CEO”, with the hot “Luke” she’d abandoned in Roseford. Ten points to this guy’s parents for giving him the most generic name ever. At least with the name Agathe, no one in this particular country ever got her confused with anyone else.

  For some reason, she’d assumed this CEO would be some wiry nerd type; Tiluma was a tech firm, after all. But then again, she should have anticipated what would happen to anyone who assumed. And here she was, making a freaking ass of herself. Of course. Because fuck her life. Why on earth would fortune cop her breaks now?

  An all-too-enticing scent of citrus, spice, and warm man invaded the air marked for her current breath. She plunked herself on a leather seat opposite his desk and slung her bag with a loud thud to the ground beside her. If he hadn’t noted her annoyance yet, he would soon. Good. He deserved her attitude. He hadn’t given his last name in Roseford. There’d been no way she could have known who he was. In part, this was his fault too.

  His glare held stern and commanding, his attention on her unwavering from behind his dark wood desk. “You can’t pull out of this job.”

  His demanding tone jolted her clear of her mental rant, and the determination in his stare propelled her back to their almost-night together, to her pressed against that cabin wall, to his fingers curled around her thigh. She’d panicked, like she panicked now, and an icy chill blasted her veins, solidifying a sudden urge to turn and leave his office.

  He knows too much.

  She had to go. Now.

  He held up a hand, like he read her thoughts and meant to stop her. “You’ve got those wide, deer-in-headlights eyes again.” His shoulders eased, like he’d come to some realization. “I’ve seen that look before.”

  Her fingers clawed into the chair’s armrest. “We can’t work together.”

  She had a job to do. A professional image to maintain. She couldn’t do either within the same office as this man.

  “We can’t? If you’re scared I’m going to abuse my power, I think we’ve already established I’m capable of controlling myself.” He paused and gave her a heavy scowl, followed by an equally heavy silence, hinting he wanted her to remember what controlling himself had entailed the last time they’d met. Well, screw that, she wasn’t about to let him tinker with her mind. “If you cancel this job on your first day, imagine how that will look to your employer.”

  She huffed out a short laugh and pointed at the various stains on her beloved jacket. “Given what I just walked in on, I think they’ll understand.”

  His eyes blazed with an indecipherable heat, attention dipping to her ruined garment.

  “I’m sorry about that.” The heat cooled, and his gaze rejoined h
ers. He gave a nonchalant shrug. “It’s just a little cake.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Actually, it’s the ham and cheese sandwich that your brother accosted me with, and someone else’s brie.”

  Despite her flat tone, she yearned to leap from her chair and wrap her scrawny fingers around his thick, lumberjack neck. She instead continued to abuse her chair’s armrest with her now painful clawing.

  “Again, I apologize.” He raised both hands in an overt gesture of surrender. “I’d like to say things such as food fights don’t happen often around here, but I’d be lying. Clearly, we need your help. Please, stay.”

  The tension in her hands didn’t abate, but she forced an even tone all the same. “I’m sure my company can arrange a competent replacement.”

  “No.” He leaned forward in his chair, the movement a little too abrupt. “You’ll look thin-skinned in front of your boss. Is that what you want, Agathe? It has to be you. There’s no need to drop this job.”

  She rolled her eyes, though she failed to feel any true vindictiveness in light of his most recent point. She wanted to hate him right now, but he expressed genuine concern for her job, one she was almost literally married to, and that concern alone was hard to hate.

  “My manager knows me better than you do. She won’t think less of me if I step away.”

  Lies. Lies. All lies. Sue would be pissed, but Luke didn’t know that. So, lies would be what she’d use to get herself out of this arrangement.

  And maybe she should have felt worse about lying and giving him sass, but then another thought struck her. A thought pertaining to his sheer insistence she should stay.

  “Did you track me down through my work?”

  His cheeks rose with a poorly hidden smirk. “As in, did I hire you with a goal to seduce you?”

  Her cheeks burned, and his humor-tinged reply sent her pulse racing. Though his mocking made her want to get up and leave, the word seduce did other things to her entirely. It brought her back to their night in Roseford. To his hands all over her body. Her hands all over him.

  She flicked her gaze up, attention threatening to drop to where the giant desk obscured his narrow hips and any view of his…

  Nope. Nope. She couldn’t say it. Couldn’t even think it. Not even to herself.

  Sweat gathered on her palms, and his eyes glinted, his gaze sweeping over the length of her body, as though he’d read where her wayward mind went.

  “In light of our interesting first meeting. No. There was no point in looking you up. You made your feelings known when you left.” His Adam’s apple bobbed, as though he took a second to recall the not-so-fun part about that night. “My PA hired your firm, and I had no idea who you worked for. I had no clue you’d be the consultant who would show up today.”

  The intensity in his glare ebbed down to his hands pressed flat on his desk, as though her rejection that night still hurt; a sign he didn’t totally hate seeing her now but didn’t quite know what to make of her presence, either.

  A tiny tremor worked its way through her muscles, and she huddled deeper into her chair.

  He took a swift breath and leaned back, his chair creaking a little as he did so. “Anyway, you’re right, it’s none of my business if you want to go.” He grabbed the phone to his right and stabbed at one button. “Though I can only imagine how your manager will react to a call direct from Tiluma’s CEO.”

  He instructed his PA to connect him to Sue, the woman Agathe had guaranteed uncompromised success to not an hour ago. She stuck out her foot and swung it from side to side before her, focusing on her black high heels and pretending she didn’t care. Though her reality was something else entirely.

  All she’d worked so hard for. Every attempt to rebuild her life. Her years of pushing through with a job that provided her one source of salvation. Every painstaking accomplishment…

  So much about this moment contradicted all her effort.

  Maybe Luke was right; maybe she was throwing it all unnecessarily away.

  Then again, maybe Luke is a manipulative asshat who deserves to see the back of you again.

  Yes, maybe he was. But then there was also the problem of having to say goodbye to her promotion, an opportunity her exit at Tiluma would most certainly destroy. Was she going to sit here and let something as small as one regrettable night ruin it all?

  Fuck, no!

  She flicked her gaze to the phone still pressed to Luke’s ear. She would look thin-skinned. She couldn’t back out now. Even if Luke made working at Tiluma a living hell, and she questioned why he cared enough to convince her to stay. She’d endured worse. She could endure working with a man who made her hormones run wild, while the rest of her itched to run away. She wanted her promotion.

  “Hang up.” Her voice punched through the air.

  The wrinkles on his forehead eased, and he paused a beat before he very slowly lowered the phone.

  She narrowed another glare at him, letting him know she noticed, and didn’t appreciate the blindly obvious way he had toyed with her. “Why are you so insistent I stay?”

  “I believe you’re what this office needs.”

  “I think we’ve established you don’t know me.”

  “Call it a hunch, based on three decades of unique life experience.” His stare hardened on her, while his strong fingertips drummed at the pristine surface of his desk. “Instinct tells me you’re up for the challenge, and you’ll fit right in.”

  “I challenge myself plenty already.” Her reply held a calmness she didn’t actually feel, though “fake it till you make it” had become her life motto, so what difference would another “fake” be, in the grand scheme of things?

  And yes, she did challenge herself plenty. Every day, in fact. Every time she rolled out of bed and made good on her promise to get on with her life.

  He shrugged. “Then one more challenge won’t make a difference.”

  “I bet your hunch has more to do with you wanting to finally get into my pants.” She copied his shrug, set on making him pay for his assumptions. “More than anything you think I can offer this office.”

  “Do I have to remind you again, I was the one who backed away last time, despite you wanting to continue?” He gave her a blank stare before his eyes glittered, stunning and annoyingly endearing as his shoulders shook from the pressure of a small chuckle. “You’re the one who wanted in my pants.”

  She ticked one corner of her lip upward, ignoring his ability to kick the legs out from under her argument, though at least a layer of tension had evaporated between them. “Details. And just to be clear.” She hardened her expression and dragged her body forward in her seat. “I don’t like being strong-armed into working here. My choice to stay is tentative. If I don’t like Tiluma—if I don’t like you—I will leave.”

  The defiant jut of Agathe’s jaw ground Luke’s patience down to a fine powder. If he had his way, this stubborn-headed woman’s skepticism would soon shift.

  “Don’t think of my ultimatum as strong-arming.” He smiled, unwilling to let her leave, unwilling to let her see the roaring emotions churning through his stomach. She had that soul-shattered look again. A look he’d seen a thousand times before. That same pained stare many of his army buddies held, the ones who returned home whole in every way but their minds.

  That look made him regret not letting her leave Tiluma as she’d asked, though he, too, could be stubborn. And in this case, he hoped his stubbornness would be for a greater good.

  “Think of this as a trial.” He shrugged, certain someone as intelligent and headstrong as Agathe could be lured with a challenge. Though those rich, brown eyes deepened in color and her forehead creased, as if she needed added explanation to ease her doubt. “Stick around for a week. Observe my staff. Interview anyone you like. Figure out where our troubles lie, and if by Friday you don’t think you can help, I’ll let you go with a glowing review to Sue.”

  Her eyes narrowed, while she crossed her arms over her chest. �
�So, five business days, that’s it?”

  He nodded, trying desperately not to stare at her honey-tinged lips, lips he’d had the honor of kissing and would give the deed to his company to do so again, but only for keeps this time.

  She dipped her chin and lifted a single shoulder in an easy shrug. “Sure. Fine. I can do that.”

  A massive weight rose from his chest, and his lungs filled with life-giving air. Five days to figure this woman out, a dream compared to his three silent months of having absolutely nothing. He hadn’t lied about not looking into her life. But by God, he’d wanted to. So, five days… five days were more than he thought he’d ever get with her again.

  “And if you still choose to leave, there won’t be any hard feelings.” He worked to keep his expression neutral through the bold-faced lie. “You won’t work that closely with me, anyway, and you can extend your time here for as little or as long as you think necessary.” His head ached from how much effort it took to fake his disinterest and just how much he regretted the occasional flit of her gaze over his face. A gaze that hinted a need to figure him out too, that need sending a zap of electricity down his spine. “I don’t know how much more accommodating I can be.”

  “I appreciate your efforts to keep me.” She straightened her posture, stare darkening anew, a sign her general cagey reaction to him had a hell of a lot to do with whatever torment went through her head, but she’d somehow figured the power had shifted a little more in her favor.

  He nodded and took an extra moment to observe her, three months of curiosity briefly satisfied. “A week, then.”

  “And we keep things strictly professional.” Her attention bore into him, daring him to defy her.

  She had a right to be wary. He wanted to take her professionalism, scrunch it up, and throw it in the trash, then he’d set fire to the whole damn thing just to be certain it couldn’t return.

  Smart enough to know he’d have to play it her way at least for a little while, he did just that. “I can keep my distance.”