“I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” She goes to move past me, and my hand shoots out in panic, grabbing her. What? There she goes again. Running. I’m not prepared to let her walk away without at least looking me in the eye, and when she does, I hope she sees what I need her to see. Want. Desire. Promises. A desperate need to be fixed.

I shake my head and silently implore her to face me. See me. But my silent prayers aren’t answered. Stubborn. My natural magnetism fails with this woman. I can’t smile at her if she won’t look at me. Can’t admire her if she avoids me. Can’t talk to her if she refuses to listen. Fuck this. I’ve tried to be diplomatic. I’ve tried the softly, softly approach. I’m working my bollocks off here, stepping outside my box, and she’s stonewalling me at every turn. Enough of the games. It’s back to boldness.

“Just tell me one thing before you leave, Ava,” I say quietly, and her gaze slowly climbs my body until we’re eye to eye. That’s better. Hear this, Miss O’Shea. Let’s see you try to ignore this . . . “How loud do you think you’ll scream when I fuck you?”

“Excuse me?” Her jaw goes lax, and I smile, reaching forward and applying a little pressure, closing her mouth. It’s doing me no favors hanging open like that. The things I could do . . .

“I’ll leave that one with you.” I release her, moving back, giving her space. The scowl she chucks me is fierce. It widens my smile. She’s shocked? Good. I’ve felt constantly shocked since she stepped into my office on Friday.

I observe her as she walks away, far from stable, her hands twitching by her sides like she might reach out and take the wall for support at any moment. It’s the nail in the coffin I didn’t need. And my determination just skyrocketed.

She sits and virtually dives into her wine, and her friend, the redhead, gets her very own dose of lax-jaw syndrome, her blue eyes taking me in. I can’t hear them from here, but when Ava’s friend points her fork at me and Ava looks away, I can’t stop myself from slipping over to introduce myself. Charm her friend to death, Ward. I need an ally. Someone to convince Ava, along with me, that she needs to give up the ghost and admit she fancies the pants off me.

I meander over, all casual, fixing my suit as I go. Ava’s friend follows my every step, all the way to their table. But Ava? Her head is down, her fingers playing with her food, her body as stiff as a board.

“Ladies.” I blast her mate back with my signature smile.