Something tickled my nostril and I swiped at it, fighting the urge to sneeze.

It tickled again.

I sucked in a breath.

Don’t sneeze, don’t sneeze, don’t sneeze.

I sneezed.

The sound echoed in the tiny space, and I froze, my heart galloping in my chest. What if someone had heard? The office floor seemed deserted, but that didn’t mean it actually was. I counted under my breath as the seconds passed. Nothing stirred. When I reached thirty, I decided I was safe.

I eased the door open and tiptoed into the hall. There was nobody in sight. Still, I didn’t relax. That would have been a mistake. Instead, I hurried toward Ronan’s office. It was locked. Entrance could only be granted by inputting a number into a keypad. Fortunately, I’d seen the passcode earlier and typed it now, releasing a sharp breath when the door clicked open without an alarm going off. I had no doubt I was being recorded, but as long as I was able to get in and out before building security arrived, then I didn’t care. I was confident the office was dim enough that seeing the details of my face would be near impossible.

I switched on the flashlight app on my phone and went straight to the heavy oak desk. With the aid of the extra illumination, I scanned the surface. It was mostly clear.

I pulled open a drawer and sifted through the papers inside. Invoices and records. I made a sound of exasperation in the back of my throat. Ronan was up to something. He’d been sniffing around Lennox Securities for weeks—contacting minor shareholders and asking questions that made me nervous. I was afraid he was working toward a hostile takeover. I needed to know for sure.

I glanced at his computer. There was a single monitor with cords connected to a laptop. Maybe what I needed was on the computer, but I hoped not because I hadn’t managed to decipher his password during my earlier spying.

I checked another drawer and came up empty. My eyes traveled back to the computer.

Couldn’t hurt to try.

I touched a glove-clad finger to the mousepad and the screen lit up, requesting a password to access the desktop. There was pretty much no chance I’d be able to guess correctly, but I might as well take a shot. I clicked into the box and entered his birthday, which I remembered because of my crazy infatuation with him when I was younger.

It didn’t work. Of course not.

I tried a couple of other options in quick succession but stopped when a warning popped up, advising that I’d be locked out of the system after one more failed attempt.

Abandoning the computer, I opened the bottom drawer and dropped to my knees to look inside. It was while I was on the floor, the desk obscuring my view through the office door, that I heard footsteps rapidly approaching.

My blood turned to ice. I dove for cover beneath the desk, only realizing when I got there that I’d left the drawer open. I inched forward and started sliding it shut but stopped when an ominous click sounded in the silent room. I recognized that click. Whoever had entered had a gun. I was in trouble.