In the Shadows (The Club, #10) by M.A. Grant

make me beg." When she didn't respond, he added, "We won't talk until you finish your cake."
    His stance and the frustration practically rolling off of him meant that arguing would prove futile. It was probably going to be a horrible mistake, but she gave in. "Fine. But you wait in my office."
    "Fine."
    He followed her inside, not commenting as he watched her do up the locks on the back door. She led him a few steps down the hall and pointed to her office. "You can wait there while I finish frosting the cake."
    He glanced around the bakery. "Are you here alone?"
    "Yes." She flicked on the office light and blinked when it illuminated him fully. "What the hell happened to your head?"
    "Fight at work. It'll heal. Why are you here alone?"
    Two could play at the noncommittal game. "Because I have work to do."
    She walked away without another word and returned to the retirement cake that had been rush ordered yesterday. It was the fourth cake of the week and she was grateful it was buttercream instead of that godforsaken fondant. It took about another half hour to finish up the decorating. Once it was in the fridge, she returned to her office.
    She expected Zeke to be lounging in her chair. Instead, he dominated her delicate, feminine desk, leaning aggressively over it to glare at her as she walked in. The gash on his forehead only added to his intimidating appearance. It did nothing to detract from his sexual potency.
    Irritated at the direction her thoughts had careened, she crossed her arms over her chest and glared back. "What?"
    "You don't have any cameras here."
    Sitting across from him was a bad idea. He already owned the tiny space and she needed distance if she intended to keep a level head around him. "No. They're expensive. What did you want to talk about?"
    "You should have cameras here. Has he bothered you again?"
    "No. Seriously, Zeke, I'm exhausted and want to get home. Why are you here?"
    "I want another chance."
    "And I want a relationship based on trust and mutual understanding."
    "What did I do to make you so fecking angry at me?"
    "Do you have any idea how frustrating it was to sit there while some other woman knew all sorts of stuff about you and I was clueless? It was like sitting at dinner with one of your ex-girlfriends."
    "I told you, I'd never met her before."
    "I get that, but she still knew more about you than I did. Would you like me to invite you to dinner with one of the men I used to date in Napa so you could see how it feels?"
    "Not unless you wanted him dead or wanted me to fuck you on the table in front of him to prove you're mine."
    She refused to let herself acknowledge the flutter of hope at his crude admission. "Well, neither's an option. But you know how angry you feel right now just imagining it?"
    His nod was jerky.
    "That was what it was like to sit through that dinner."
    "If it felt anything like this, why the hell would you have stayed?"
    "Because he's one of your friends and you care about him. And because I care about you and hoped that after dinner you'd explain some things to me."
    "But I didn't."
    "No." She took a breath and lowered her arms. "Now does it make sense why I'm so pissed off at you?"
    His chin rose, eyes searching her face. "It's beginning to."
    "Good. If you're serious about wanting another chance, I need to know more about you. I need you to trust me to decide whether I still want you or not."
    His stillness unnerved her. "You're asking a lot."
    "It doesn't seem like it."
    The lilt of his accent did nothing to hide the pain behind his words. "You're asking for the world, darlin'. And I’ll be damned if I won't give it to you."
    He rose from her desk and stepped toward her. There was that electric current, sending tingles across her skin and hardening her nipples. At least the stiff canvas of the apron hid that. She held her ground, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much his agreement meant to her.
    "Let me take you home," he said.
    "We're not going