Tempting the Crown(233)
Her head spun with the possibilities. But Abby did what she always did when things were complicated. She walked to the new design table and picked up a charcoal pencil. There was one place where she could get lost. One place where everything else faded away and nothing else mattered. Her art.
It took ten days. A grueling ten days of working on the Soar design. Abby had never loved a project more than this. She wasn’t sure she was ready to admit it openly, but it was true. She awoke in the mansion each morning, eager to get to the office.
There were some nights she stayed up late, designing and creating. She felt as if part of her soul were invested in it. It had to be the most beautiful creation she had made.
Today was it. Deacon and Cole would receive the final submissions from the other artists. Abby’s fingers tingled with nerves. It was hard to decide what made her more nervous—wanting the design to be chosen because she loved it, or wanting it to be chosen to give her the freedom she had sought.
Either way, it was enough to keep her stomach in knots. She skipped her cup of coffee Douglas offered in the dining room.
“Can I get you something else, ma’am?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No. I don’t think I can eat.”
Deacon rested his tablet next to him at the table. “Is there a reason you have no appetite today?” He smirked.
She wanted to slap that beautiful smile off his face. It was irritating how sexy he was.
“I think you know exactly what is at stake today.”
Cole smiled. “I’m sure your design is going to be chosen.”
Abby exhaled and smiled at him. He had a way of calming her when she least expected it. “Thank you. I guess I’ll know this afternoon.”
“Whatever happens, we appreciate that you’ve worked hard for the foundation.”
“Thank you.” She folded her napkin in her lap. There was no way she could eat the omelet Douglas placed in front of her. “Would you allow me to go to the office this morning alone?”
She looked at Cole first before seeking Deacon’s permission.
She hadn’t been allowed to leave without an escort from HiTech, the mansion, or either of them.
Deacon poured a cup of coffee. He was relaxed and cocky as usual.
“I don’t see why not. You can take my car. I’ll ride with Cole.”
“Are you serious?” She stared at him.
He nodded. “Take it. It’s fast. I think you’ll like how it feels.”
“I just need to get to the office. I don’t care if I drive a pickup truck.”
Cole muffled a laugh. “I’d like to see you in a truck, Abby.”
She shot him a frantic glance. “So I can go? You aren’t going to drag me back?”
Deacon winked. “The keys are on my dresser. Take it. We’ll see you in the office in an hour. Proposals are due on my desk at ten.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
She rushed from the dining room and climbed the stairs to the second story. She had tried to stay away from the guys’ bedrooms, but she had no doubt where Deacon’s bedroom was. He was the last door on the left.
Sometimes at night she thought she heard him pause outside her door, but she was never sure. They had respected her boundaries.
She barged into his room and snatched the keys from the dresser, but not before she noticed the pictures tucked into the mirror. Abby paused.
She had never thought before about what kinds of things mattered to Deacon. She had been too busy either hating him, or trying to keep her distance from his smoldering stare. The last two weeks of work had given her an escape.
But now, she absorbed the photos he had saved.
He had his arm around a woman with wisps of gray in her hair. It must be his mother. There was a picture of him and Cole. She stared at the collection of art museum shots. He had been to every impressive collection in the world. She couldn’t believe it.
Abby fought the burning interest in her belly. She had to get to the office. Today Deacon wasn’t a hot sexy man who might have a side she’d like to get to know. No, that couldn’t happen. Today, Deacon was the man who decided her fate. That was all that mattered.
10
Deacon
He took a look at the three leader portfolios in front of him. Deacon pushed away from his desk and walked to the bar to pour a drink. He filled the rocks glass with bourbon and leaned his heavy frame against the marble surface.
He knocked back the first swallow. If he chose Abby’s design, she would be free. He took another sip.
It was the last thing he or Cole wanted. Two weeks with her had changed him. He didn’t know how to admit it, or face it, but it was the fucking truth.
She had a smile that could bring him to his knees. She had a smart mouth that he wanted to kiss every morning and every night. Her voice. Her laugh. She had invaded every part of him when he wasn’t looking. The thought of letting her go was ludicrous.