Chapter 6
Jaxon
I’ve made a lot of decisions in my life. Good ones. Strategic ones. Cold, calculated ones.
This is the first time a decision feels like instinct, like gravity, like something bigger than logic dragging me exactly where I want to go.
Ruby Quinn is in my building. Ruby Quinn works for my company, and Ruby Quinn is doing everything in her power to stay as far away from me as possible.
It would be adorable if it weren’t driving me insane.
I watch her walk out of my office with her cheeks flushed, her breathing unsteady, and her hands gripping that notepad like it’s the only thing keeping her from falling apart.
She doesn’t look back. She doesn’t have to.
I can feel her. The awareness. The pull. The same thing that’s been under my skin since last night, and I’m done pretending I can ignore it.
I button my shirt slowly, watching her disappear around the corner, then look out across the office floor. People are pretending not to stare. They’re whispering. They saw the interview, and they saw her walk in and walk out as if she’d been to war.
Good, let them talk. She isn’t theirs, she’s mine.
I roll my sleeves down, not to hide the tension but because I don’t want to intimidate the entire floor with the way my body reacts to her, but even being buttoned up doesn’t help.
I can still smell her perfume. I can still hear her soft gasp when I touched her wrist, and I can still taste the way she said no, even though her body said yes.
I move around the desk, pick up my phone, and pull up the internal directory. I don’t need it, but I want to know everything about her.
Position: Senior Features Writer.
Education: Literary journalism.
Years at company: Four.
Performance notes: Creative. Provocative. Reliable.
Feedback from editorial: “Ruby gets reactions other writers can’t.”
I smile.
I’ve noticed.
I scroll down further and find a tiny digital ID photo. She looks cute in it, her hair is messy, her expression a little sarcastic, and her eyes are bright and defiant.
I want to see every version of her: the one from the bar, the one from my bed, and the one from five minutes ago, trying to convince herself she can resist me.
But I know she can’t resist me. I could see how hard she was trying to show me she didn’t want me.
I slip my phone into my pocket and leave my office, ignoring the way the staff parts around me like I’m a storm they don’t want to get caught in.
I’m not thinking about numbers or projections or the acquisition meeting. I’m thinking about the way Ruby licked her lips when she tried to argue with me. I’m thinking about the heat creeping up her neck when I said her name. I’m thinking about last night.
And the night I want next.
She’s at her desk when I find her, pretending to type, and pretending not to notice I’m approaching her desk. Her friends scatter like terrified birds. She doesn’t look up, but the way her fingers freeze on the keyboard gives her away.
She feels me, I know she does.
“Ruby,” I say softly, stopping at the edge of her desk.
She inhales sharply, then looks up with forced calm. “Do you… Need something?”
I want a lot of things, but I start with control.
“Yes,” I say. “Your availability.”
Her eyebrows lift. “Availability?”
“For the interview follow-up.”
“The follow-up we just did?”
“The follow-up to the follow-up,” I clarify.
She drops her pen. “That’s not how interviews work.”
“That’s how this one works.”
Her eyes narrow just enough to delight me. “Jaxon, this is not appropriate.”
“What part?” I ask, leaning in a fraction. “The interview? Or the way you can’t look at me without remembering the night we had?”
She flushes instantly. I’ve got her.
“Stop doing that,” she whispers.
“Doing what?”
“Trying to… to…” She gestures wildly at my entire existence. “Using your face like a weapon.”
I grin. “It works.”
“Unfortunately,” she mutters.
I lower my voice. “Meet me at the café across the street in an hour.”
She drops her gaze to her notepad. “I can’t, I have edits, I have deadlines, I have…”
“Ruby.”
She looks up.
My voice softens, but the meaning sharpens. “We’re not done.”
Her lips part just slightly. “Jaxon…”
“One hour,” I repeat.
I don’t wait for her answer; I don’t need it.
I walk away knowing three things:
One, she’s coming. Two, she’ll tell herself she shouldn’t. Three, she’ll do it anyway.
Because she felt last night too, she felt this morning, and because she feels this moment now, no matter how much she tries to fight it.
And because I’m not leaving this city, this building, or this floor until I get what I want.
Ruby, again, and again, and again.
One night wasn’t enough.
Now that she’s in my world, she’ll learn something very simple: Billionaires don’t chase.
But I do.
For her? I’ll hunt.