Hadley had used her. Pausing at the window, she stared through the glass, but it wasn’t the view of the Mall that grabbed her attention. She was picturing her first interview in Hadley Richards’s office. He’d offered her tea—somehow he’d known that she preferred it. He’d told her he’d heard good things about her. There was a private matter that he’d wanted her to research and to keep completely confidential. No written report, no file. She was to report on it verbally to him.
Again, she experienced a little nibbling at the edge of her mind. Ruthlessly, she pushed it aside. First she was going to finish with Hadley Richards. Had he set her up from day one, sweet-talking her, inviting her to those business lunches, knowing full well that he was going to ask for her resignation and forge her name to reports that had nearly gotten Jed killed?
Of course he had. The piece of slime. She could picture him poring over her résumé, looking at the photo that she’d submitted with it and saying to himself, “Yes, she’ll make the perfect patsy!”
And she had. Needy little Zoë had just lapped up all of his attention like a hungry kitten licked cream.
And she’d been ripe for Jed Calhoun’s attention, too. Sex starved, that’s what she’d been. And he’d probably known it. All that teasing, the mocking looks, the hand on her arm, at her waist. He’d known exactly what effect he’d had on her.
She pulled her hair free of the ponytail and ran her hand through it. He’d known all right. She was the kind of woman who was an open book to a man like Jed Calhoun. Whirling, she moved to the open doorway of the office. He was totally focused on the data he’d brought up on the screen.
The fact that he could concentrate on the assignment, and she couldn’t, fanned the flame of anger inside of her even higher. But even as she huffed out a breath, she knew that she wasn’t angry at Jed in the same way she was at Hadley.
There was a big difference between the two men. She couldn’t accuse Jed of using her. She was the one who’d propositioned him and who’d come to Ryder’s office this morning secretly hoping that she would see him, hoping that he would touch her again.
And she was in love with him. The realization slammed into her with the force of a Mack truck. Breathless, head spinning, she gripped the side of the doorjamb and wondered that she could still stand. The panic clawing its way through her nearly made her knees buckle. How could she be in love with Jed Calhoun? She barely knew the man. She hadn’t had a clue that he was really Lucifer. What she was feeling right now was just an aftermath of the great sex they’d had. Women—even smart women—confused the two. Frequently.
She pressed a hand against her stomach. That must be it.
Or—better still—she was letting her crush on Lucifer influence her. Yes, that had to be it.
But as she continued to look at Jed, none of the emotions streaming through her dissipated in the wake of cool logic.
Still, she was sure she was right. It had to be the combination of great sex and her fixation on Lucifer that had her heart doing cartwheels. Because if she’d been in love with Jed Calhoun, how could she have run off with Ethan Blair and let him seduce her?
Would her next realization be that she was in love with Ethan Blair, too?
The thought had barely entered her mind when Jed’s head whipped around and his eyes met hers.
Later, she would try to analyze just what it was that triggered the realization. Was it their eyes meeting that reminded her of that moment at the Blue Pepper when she’d first locked gazes with Ethan? Was it simply that falling in love made you see things more clearly?
Or maybe it was just the fury that was still rolling around inside of her, trying to find a release valve. Whatever it was, she moved at the same time he did and when they met in the middle of the kitchen, she lifted the sleeve of his T-shirt and saw the bandage. Ripping it free, she found the jagged and still angry-looking mark that the bullet had left.
“You’re Ethan Blair.” And then she used both hands to give him one hard shove.
JED HADN’T BEEN PREPARED for the shove. That’s why he ended up on his rear end on the floor. “I can exp—”
She cut him off by launching herself at him. The next thing he knew, his shoulders were pinned to the floor and she was straddling him. Her fist connected with his jaw before he could prevent it. He tasted blood where his teeth had clamped on his tongue. The yank on his hair told him where her other hand was. He captured both her wrists and rolled.
The struggle was brief, and he took every advantage he could before she finally stopped struggling and lay still beneath him.