"You did a great job." Winn said eventually.
"Screw you!!!" Ivy shot back instantly.
Winn drew in a sharp breath. Every time she said that—every damn time—his mind flashed somewhere it shouldn't. And the problem was that she knew. He could see it in the quick flare of heat in her eyes before she looked away. She threw gasoline, and he always, always caught fire.
"I am a capable woman, Winn," she continued, shoulders squared. "I don't need you to hold my hand or watch my every move. I do my job, and I try as much as possible to be damned good at it!"
"No arguments there," he murmured. And it was true. Today she had stood in that conference room and she had owned it.
"So what's this?" she demanded, rounding on him. "Why are you hovering like some overgrown bodyguard with a superiority complex?"
"I do have a right to be in the room while you are defending a huge project of House of Kane, don't I?" Winn asked, lifting a brow.
