Jacob’s voice turned hard. "Claire, take that back. I can pretend I didn’t hear it. Otherwise, you won’t like what happens next."
Considering how much Claire loved him, he was willing to give her one more chance.
Claire smiled without humor. She stopped looking at him and turned to Monica instead, raising her voice so everyone could hear.
"If we’re making a bet, both sides should have something to lose. If my proposal gets approved, Moonstone Studio stays independent. Monica also apologizes to Wendy in front of everyone and leaves Sinclair Design."
A wave of shocked breaths went through the room.
Monica stared for a second, then laughed like Claire had just told the funniest joke she’d ever heard.
"Fine. Ms. Warren and Mr. Sinclair are both here. Everyone heard you."
Monica had been leading the Crescent project herself. Her entire team couldn’t get a design approved. There was no way Claire could do it alone in three days.
"Three days from now, if Crescent still says no, you get the hell out of the design industry."
Triumph flashed in Yvonne’s eyes before she covered it with a helpless, sympathetic expression.
"Claire, if this is really your decision, we won’t interfere. I believe you can do it. If you need anything, the whole design department will support you. All right. Everyone back to work."
The employees scattered.
Jacob’s face was dark with anger.
He stared at Claire and spoke through clenched teeth, low enough that only she could hear.
"You’ve really outdone yourself, Claire. When you lose, don’t expect me to save you. You’ll be out of Sinclair Group immediately."
Wendy’s eyes filled with tears. "Claire, I’m sorry. This is all because of me."
"Wendy, don’t blame yourself. It’s fine." Claire couldn’t care less about Jacob’s threats.
She looked down at Wendy’s badly swollen wrist. "We’re going to the hospital."
Behind them, Monica rolled her eyes. "God, what a poser."
Jacob watched Claire walk away, his jaw clenched tight.
Yvonne slipped her arm through his and softened her expression, all innocence.
"Jacob, you’re not mad at me, are you? I was just doing my job. I didn’t think Claire would take it that far."
Jacob finally looked away from Claire. "This has nothing to do with you. I just want to see how she gets herself out of this mess in three days."
’If I don’t teach her a real lesson, she’ll never learn to listen.’
***
In a treatment room at Aethel General Hospital, a nurse carefully applied medication to Wendy’s injured wrist.
Pain brought tears to Wendy’s eyes, but she was still trying to reassure Claire.
"Claire, I’m okay. It looks worse than it is. I’m checked in already. They’re taking me for an X-ray next to make sure nothing’s broken."
For someone who worked with her hands, an injury like this could threaten her livelihood.
A doctor in a white coat passed the treatment room, followed by several younger doctors.
It was Miles.
Claire’s eyes lit up. "Wendy, everything’s paid for. Just follow whatever the doctors tell you."
She stepped out of the treatment room, changed her expression in an instant, and moved into Miles’s path.
"Dr. Warren, what a coincidence. One of my coworkers hurt her wrist, so I brought her in."
Miles didn’t respond, so Claire kept going.
"By the way, you still have my thermos, right? If you’re free, could I pick it up in a little while?"
Miles gave a cool nod.
Jonathan popped his head out from behind him. "Ms. Kendall, what’d you bring Miles this time? Do the rest of us get another free meal?"
"Nothing today. I came over in a rush." Claire smiled. "Strawberries are about to be in season, though. I’ll make everyone some strawberry cream mochi next time."
Jonathan grinned. "Now that’s what I like to hear."
The interns behind him looked just as excited.
"Thank you, Ms. Kendall!"
Miles’s face darkened slightly.
"Finished all your assignments? Ready for the test this afternoon?"
The interns disappeared almost instantly.
"They were joking. Don’t take it seriously—and don’t make them anything. Your thermos is in my office. Come with me."
Miles picked up his pace. Claire had to hurry to keep up.
He had already washed the thermos before handing it back to her.
Claire didn’t leave. Instead, she looked at him with clear eyes and an apologetic expression.
"Dr. Warren, there’s one more thing. The shirt you lent me last night... I left it in the cab."
"It’s one shirt. Don’t worry about it."
"I can’t do that." Claire stepped closer, clearly determined.
She put both hands on his desk and leaned forward, closing some of the distance between them.
The same light, sweet scent from his apartment last night slipped into Miles’s senses again.
His brow tightened. Without making it obvious, he leaned back a few inches.
Claire’s eyes brightened. "I lost it, so I have to replace it. Dr. Warren, why don’t I make you one myself?"
Miles’s fingers stopped on the chart he was reading. His voice stayed cool.
"No need."
Claire had expected that. She reached into her bag and pulled out a soft measuring tape.
"It’s no trouble. The hard part is making you a shirt without your exact measurements."
She paused, leaned a little closer, and lowered her voice. "Should I wait until you’re off work and come by your place tonight to take your measurements?"
"No." Miles rejected the idea immediately.
’Let her into my apartment? Absolutely not.’
Claire’s eyes curved with satisfaction. "Then we’ll do it now."
Miles looked at her and realized too late that she had walked him straight into her trap.
She had known he would refuse to let her come to his home, so she had deliberately offered that first and made measuring him here sound reasonable.
The problem was, he had never agreed to let her make the shirt in the first place.
Miles was annoyed. Then Claire looked up at him with those quietly pleading eyes, and some of it faded.
It was only a few measurements and one shirt. Better to get it over with than give her another excuse to keep coming back.
"Dr. Warren, could you stand up? Let’s start."
Claire moved behind him with the measuring tape and rose slightly onto her toes.
She pressed one end to his shoulder and stretched the tape across the back of his neck toward the other side.
From behind, the position almost looked like a hug.
Her fingertips brushed the skin at the back of his neck.
Miles stiffened before he could stop himself. His jaw tightened, and his throat moved as he swallowed.
"Eighteen and a half inches across the shoulders," Claire murmured.
They were so close that her warm breath touched the back of his neck.
A shiver ran down Miles’s spine. His breath hitched.
Claire stayed completely focused on the tape, apparently unaware of what she was doing to him.
She moved in front of him and wrapped the tape around his chest, overlapping it behind his back. "Forty and a half inches."
Her arms were almost fully around him now.
Miles looked down at Claire’s soft hair, then lower to her long lashes as they trembled gently.
Her sweet scent surrounded him, exactly the same as the night before.
It pulled up memories he had been trying hard to bury.
Wet dark hair. His oversized shirt. The collar slipping off her bare shoulder.
Thoughts he had no business having pushed into his mind anyway, completely beyond his control.