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at her, the look on his face utterly expressionless. Except for his eyes. They burned with that fierce, banked anger. An anger she’d never had turned on her.
    Until now.
    â€œWhat the fuck are you doing here?” she managed to force out, her voice thin and high.
    â€œI told you we had things to discuss,” he said, unutterably calm. “And I’m here to discuss them.”
    â€œI told you no.” Her palms were flat against the window, icy cold seeping into them. She could feel herself begin to tremble. “I told you I didn’t want to discuss anything!”
    He moved at last, reaching out to grab her chair, pulling it away from the desk and turning it to face her. Then he sat down in it with the smooth, predatory grace of a tiger.
    She flinched at the movement, her heart beating like a desperate bird against the cage of her ribs.
    â€œFor seven years we’ve done what you want, angel.” He leaned back in the chair, put his elbows on the arms and steepled his fingers. “Tonight, we’re going to do what I want.”

 
    CHAPTER THREE
    He’d expected she’d be terrified when he turned up, and he was right.
    That only served as more fuel to the fire of his anger.
    Yes, he’d never turned up in her private space before—he knew she fiercely guarded it and had never invited anyone, including himself, into it.
    And yes, not giving her any warning he was coming was shitty.
    But her fear was a small price to pay for the information she was withholding. Information he had to get out of her one way or another. Besides, fear wasn’t a bad thing. It didn’t hurt you. It could be an aphrodisiac in certain situations, a test of strength in others. And he knew for goddamned certain that Eva was nothing if not strong.
    Zac regarded her small, slight figure pressed against the window, the New York skyline in all its glory at her back.
    For seven years he’d been putting her needs above everyone else, everything else. Including himself. And that had to stop.
    More important things were at stake now. The lives of their friends. Her life too.
    If someone could get through her insane firewalls and discover what she’d been investigating, then they could get to her. They could hurt her. And that he would not allow. So if it meant him scaring her, then Jesus, he’d scare the shit out of her if need be.
    Slowly, Zac stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankles and studying her over his steepled fingers. “Sit down,” he said, allowing the hard edge of authority to creep into his voice.
    She ignored him, her palms pale and spread out like starfish on the window, her long, straight silver hair falling over her shoulders. Her gray eyes were wide, fear and anger glittering in the depths. “How the fuck did you get in here?”
    â€œI have a key.”
    Her eyes widened ever further. “You have a key? To my freaking apartment? How dare you—”
    â€œA key that I’ve had since I leased this apartment for you five years ago,” he interrupted in the same calm tone. “A key I’ve never used until tonight.”
    Her mouth closed in a hard line. Her finely carved face was pale, yet there was an obstinate jut to her chin. And beneath her silvery bangs, her eyes—almost the same color—were full of sparks.
    Christ, the woman was a bloody turn-on. A delicious combination of delicate fragility and iron strength, possessing such deep passions yet armoring herself with a tough shell that dared the world to crack it.
    No wonder she’d always fascinated him. He’d found all other women boring in comparison. No one else had her will or her strength. Or her secrets. She was a challenge he’d been resisting for too long—to both their detriment probably.
    â€œThis is my private apartment, Zac,” she said shakily. “You’ve got no right to waltz right in here unannounced and