With Every Breath (Slow Burn #4) - Maya Banks Page 0,20

losing all vestiges of that legendary composure when she’d lain there so still after enduring unspeakable torture and it wasn’t known whether she lived or had died.

Until that Neanderthal Wade Sterling had inserted himself into a situation he clearly didn’t belong in. She scowled at the memory of just how he’d taken over. He’d picked her up, had held her, cradled her, actual concern dark in those mesmerizing eyes as though she had mattered to him.

She caught herself before she did something stupid like shake her head vehemently in denial of such a crazy, unwanted thought. But a nagging voice inside her, one she wanted to bitch slap and banish forever, innocently asked if she was so certain she didn’t matter to Sterling.

To get her mind off Sterling and to delay, for now, the overwhelming grief and dread of her impending meeting with Dane, she turned just enough so she could see Zack in her periphery, but made certain it wasn’t obvious she was watching him. The voice of Caleb droned on and on and she could see she wasn’t the only one impatient for the meeting to be done. Several of the people she worked with had bored, impatient expressions and the eyes of others were glazed over, obviously having tuned out the endless drone completely.

Her gaze slowly settled back on Zack and she went still, remembering to bring and adopt the same bored expression the rest of the team wore when he looked in her direction. Her heart plummeted because it wasn’t a friendly look. Not remotely. His expression was black and brooding. Yeah, he was pissed. But then she couldn’t blame him considering how protective he was of Gracie and then there was the fact that before that fucking phone call, she had been tight with Gracie. She’d been tight with all the wives. But especially Gracie, with whom she’d formed a special bond after all the shit that had gone down.

Unable to bear the anger and, worse, the disappointment in Zack’s expression she averted her gaze, shutting him out. She glanced in Dane’s direction, not feeling any better about the deception she was perpetrating. Guilt flooded her.

She shuddered, tears stinging her eyelids and she blinked them back, furious at her lack of control. And she should have known that if no one else would pick up on that nearly imperceptible slip up, Dane would.

He eyed her sharply, his gaze flickering over her as if revealing every secret she ever held, every thought she’d locked down permanently, never to escape and see the light of day again.

He moved closer with casualness that had her blinking because he made it seem unplanned, like he was growing weary of the prolonged meeting and was merely shifting his weight. He donned an impatient look, one he was famous for, one that said, “Are we done now?”

The others caught on and Caleb and Beau began the wrap-up and for a moment Eliza thought she was safe from Dane’s scrutiny. Years working for this man and she still made a rookie mistake by underestimating him.

“What’s wrong, Lizzie?” he asked in a low enough voice not to be overheard. “Is everything okay?”

She smiled brightly and if it was too bright, oh well, she was hanging on by a thread here and anything she could do in order to survive the coming private conversation with Dane once the others had dispersed, she’d latch on to with both hands and hold on to for dear life.

“Just wondering when the fuck our esteemed leaders became so goddamn long-winded,” she muttered, because it was such an Eliza thing to say.

To cover the brightness of her smile, she bared her teeth in a barely noticeable snarl, because that too was so her. “Don’t they have wives to go home to and make cutesy eyes at instead of wasting our time by covering shit we could recite in our sleep?”

Dane gave a light chuckle, relief flaring in his eyes, and she did a mental fist pump in victory. Getting anything over on Dane was cause for self-congratulation because the man did not miss a goddamn thing. He always had his eyes on every single person, his ears glued to every conversation, attuned to the slightest differences in tone, body language. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear the man was psychic because his powers were superhuman.

And it wasn’t as though DSS wasn’t accustomed to dealing with some pretty freaky shit. Pain flashed through her chest, temporarily robbing her of

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