Chapter 3
It had absolutely nothing to do with the man who sent it.
At least, that was what she intended to believe.
Part 2
The first time Dominic Vale brought Claire Morgan coffee, she almost spit it onto her computer.
He had placed the cup carefully beside her keyboard, looking unusually pleased with himself.
“Good morning.”
“Morning.”
“I brought you coffee.”
Claire inspected the cup.
“Did you make this?”
“No.”
“Then there’s still hope.”
She took a sip.
Her face changed.
Dominic immediately noticed.
“Wrong?”
“Spectacularly.”
“What do you normally drink?”
“I’m not telling you.”
“Why not?”
“Because watching you attempt ordinary human interaction is becoming my favorite office entertainment.”
He stared at her.
Then, despite himself, he laughed.
The exchange would have been harmless if Dominic were an ordinary businessman.
But Dominic Vale was not an ordinary businessman.
People still whispered about the criminal organization his father had built across Chicago.
About gambling operations, illegal loans, and the men who had disappeared from certain circles after angering the Vale family.
Dominic had expanded the family’s legitimate holdings and pushed much of its old business into the shadows, but he still controlled an organization that operated outside the law.
Claire knew that.
She wasn’t naive.
Her mother had raised her to recognize danger, even when it wore a perfectly tailored suit.
And Dominic’s danger was unmistakable.
Yet the man standing beside her desk looked less like Chicago’s most feared crime boss and more like someone genuinely upset that he’d ordered the wrong coffee.
That contradiction unsettled her.
Because she was beginning to enjoy him.
Dominic eventually stopped asking other people what Claire liked.
He started asking Claire.
He learned that she collected old mystery novels from secondhand bookstores.
That she preferred diners to restaurants where the food arrived arranged like modern art.
That she visited her mother in Milwaukee every other weekend.
That her father, a former warehouse mechanic, had taught her to fix a leaking faucet before teaching her to drive.
And that she hated extravagant compliments.
“Because people usually use them when they want something,” she explained one afternoon.
Dominic considered this.
“What if the compliment is sincere?”
“Then it doesn’t need a speech.”
He nodded.
“You’re beautiful.”
Claire blinked.
For once, she had no clever answer.
Dominic noticed immediately.
A slow smile touched his mouth.
“Interesting.”
“Don’t get comfortable.”
“Too late.”
She turned back to her work, hoping he wouldn’t notice the warmth in her cheeks.