Xavier smiled faintly, eyes never leaving hers. "You work too much," he murmured, leaning close enough for his breath to brush her cheek. "Consider this a bonus."
Her composure faltered for a second—the kind of crack that made her seem human beneath all that control.
"You really think you can just walk in here and—"
"I don't think," he cut in smoothly, "I know."
Angel exhaled sharply, but it wasn't annoyance this time. It was something heavier. She stood from the couch, close enough now that their shadows merged on the wall.
"Fine," she said, voice quiet but steady. "Let's see what your version of payment looks like."
Her tone was a challenge. His grin was an answer.
He didn't answer. He just pulled her in, their lips meeting hard, the kind of kiss that shut down thought. Her hands went to his chest, his to her waist. The chair rolled back, bumping into the table, but neither cared. Papers fell, lights dimmed, and the quiet room turned hot fast.
