Pete arrives with Ava’s steak, and I point to the couch, my eyes landing on the bottle of wine. A whole bottle. I obviously wasn’t clear. I should have stated a glass rather than some wine.

I leave Pete to serve Ava’s dinner, returning my attention to the surveillance contract and the proposed camera placements. All looks good. Timeframe? Great. Cost? Stupid but necessary. I grab a pen and scrawl across the final page before I stand and wander up behind Ava, smiling at the sounds she’s making.

“Good?” I ask, placing my chin on her shoulder, her hair tickling my face.

“Very.” She can hardly speak over her mouthful. “You want to try?”

I open my mouth in answer, and she shares, feeding me. If only she knew that it’s not just food she’s feeding me. “Hmmm, very good.”

“More?”

I nod, and she cuts me another piece, holding out her fork. I move in slowly, open my mouth, pull off the steak slowly, and chew slowly. Her expression is a picture. My face plummets into her neck, my hands finding her shoulders.

“You taste better,” I growl, biting my way to her lobe and latching on, making sure I breathe deeply, right into her ear. She shudders, pushing her head into me. “You eat,” I order, kissing her head, working her shoulders. “You’re tense. Why are you tense?”

She doesn’t answer, just hums, soaking up the pressure of my hands, and I am fine with that.

There’s a knock on the door. “Yes?”

Sarah wanders in, and I toss her a warning look, a look that tells her not to say anything smart. I don’t know if she catches it. She’s too focused on me massaging Ava.

“Your figures,” she mutters like a petulant child, setting them on my desk, frowning at the mess.

I drop a kiss on Ava’s cheek and take a long shot of her scent to see me through another half hour or so. “Thanks, Sarah. I have to work now, baby. Eat your dinner.”

I leave Ava on the couch and face Sarah. She’s smiling. Fuck me, her mood changes faster than the wind, and it’s about to change again. I pull the envelope out of my back pocket and hand it over. “Have one hundred thousand transferred into this account ASAP.”

“One hundred?”

“Yes. Now, please.” And do not question me. I go back to my desk and focus on the figures and accounts. “That’s all, Sarah,” I say, feeling her moody presence like a knife dragging across my skin.

I only glance up when I hear the door open, relieved to see John is back. Although he better have his big trap under control now.

He joins me, also looking across my desk that was perfectly tidy when he left. I shrug and start scooping up the papers. Where the hell has that contract gone?

“Looking for this?” John reaches forward and drags it from beneath a file.