blush like a kid with her first crush. “You’ve never seen me in yellow because you’ve never seen me dressed to coo over baby things. Lizzy’s shower is this afternoon.” I wrinkle my nose. “Sabrina’s making us all wear yellow so we’ll match in the pictures.”
Nick chuckles. “You sound excited.”
“I’m excited to meet my niece or nephew. Less excited to play ridiculous doll-diapering games and gossip with women I barely know.” I step past him into the roomy office, admiring the antique leather chairs in the corner and the modern art on the walls. “I like what you’ve done with the place. Is that a Schiele?”
“Thanks. Yeah. I enjoy his obsession with women in knee socks.”
I smile. “I don’t think it was an obsession. I’m pretty sure all the prostitutes wore knee socks back in his day.”
“Really?” Nick hums beneath his breath. “Well, that makes it a little sadder, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t know.” I wander deeper into the room, studying the model’s expressive blue eyes. “I think he painted them with a respectful gaze. Acknowledged their complex humanity. That’s nice.”
Nick comes to stand behind me, murmuring, “It is, I agree.” The warmth of his body against my back makes me ache all over again, but this time, it spreads from my chest to lower, more dangerous places.
Silently, I thank the universe I’ll only be alone with him for a few minutes. Soon, Sabrina will swing by the café down the street to pick me up for Lizzy’s shower, and I won’t see Nick again until dinner tonight, where we’ll be surrounded by family, and it will be easier to pretend I don’t want to kiss him.
More than kiss him.
To pretend that I don’t want to rip off my clothes and beg him to take me on the floor of his office.
The rest of the building is still empty. The agents working under Nick aren’t due back for another week. We could bang like bunnies on every desk on the third floor if we wanted to.
But he doesn’t want to, and you’re being pathetic. Get your shit together, Alexandra, and get out of here ASAP. Before you make a fool of yourself.
“So…you wanted to talk in private?” I toss the words over my shoulder, worried my expression might give me away.
“Right. I didn’t ask you here to discuss the art,” he says in a softer voice. “Though I’m glad you like the piece. I chose it with you in mind—thought it might be something you’d enjoy looking at every day.”
My brows pinch together as I turn. “What?”
Nick pulls in a deeper breath. “I turned in my letter of resignation last week after Neville cleared me to offer you this position.” He reaches into the front pocket of his grey suit pants and pulls out a key dangling from a blue satin ribbon. “The office, the job…they’re yours.”
“No, Nick. You don’t have to do this,” I insist, my heart throbbing in my throat. “You shouldn’t do this. You’re going to be a wonderful director.”
“I don’t think so,” he says, his lips hooking up on one side as the key still dangles between us. “My heart just isn’t in the work these days, Zanny Wanny. I don’t want to be a spy anymore. I haven’t since we left Bali, in fact.”
“Of course, you do,” I say, too upset to react to the stupid nickname. “You’re just burned out from all the internal investigation stuff. No one enjoys being interrogated for weeks on end. But that’s over, and things can finally get back to normal.”
“I don’t want normal.” He takes my hand and places the key in my palm. “I want…extraordinary.” He folds my fingers around the cool metal, his touch making me simmer the way it always has and probably always will. “I knew that when we left Bali, too, but I didn’t want there to be any conflicts of interest when… or if…” He trails off with a shaky breath before his lips stretch into a wider grin. “I’m leaving Union Ten to start a non-profit.”
“A non-profit?” I echo, still stunned.
“Yes. To help victims of human trafficking. I already have a board of directors and a fundraising team and everything. We’re going to start with a halfway house for women and children here in Baden-Bergen and branch out to other cities as the organization grows.” His head tilts to one side as he adds more softly, “But I’ll stay here, of course. To be close to the people who matter most.”
“Oh. Well,