The Billionaire’s Forbidden Desire(34)

Roco watched as she got ready. She dug out a navy skirt suit and nude ballet flats. Her hair went up, then a pair of pearl studs completed her look. She fingered her heart-shaped garnet necklace with the panic button. It was just plain jewelry without Chad, but she couldn’t bring herself to remove it. She’d wanted to call him more than once, but hadn’t been able to. She didn’t want to complicate his life with her problems when she knew he needed to earn a living. It was ironic, but taking care of herself was the best thing she could do for him.

She picked Roco up and touched his nose with hers. “Wish me luck. If all goes well, we’ll have a place of our own soon.”

He licked her nose and squirmed, wagging his tail. Smiling, she put him down, gave him a scratch behind the ears and left.

Al was waiting for her downstairs with a car key. “This is yours to drive, miss,” he said, gesturing at a green Aston Martin convertible that had been brought around to the front of the mansion. The car gleamed in the morning sunlight. The license tag read 2HOT4U.

“Oh no, that’s too…too…” She swallowed the rest. She didn’t want to seem like she was complaining, but the car’s flashiness made her squirm. When Salazar had offered, she’d assumed he’d lend her a station-wagon or something.

“The location of your interview has been programmed into the vehicle’s GPS. If you get lost or need assistance, please call this number.” Al handed her a card. It felt smooth and expensive in her hand. “Good luck, miss.”

She took the keys with a murmured thanks and climbed in, feeling like she was in some kind of trance. The engine roared to life, and she carefully pulled out.

The traffic wasn’t as bad as she’d feared. The GPS led her to a downtown skyscraper. She parked her car in the underground garage and started toward the elevator.

On the way up she clenched and unclenched her hands and took a few calming breaths. She could do this. She absolutely could. If there was one thing she knew how to do it was control her nerves. That was the reason why she’d been so good at skating—while others crumpled under the pressures of competition, she stayed calm and composed. She could handle a job interview.

The elevator opened up to a wide reception area. A sleek company logo read Digital Angel Capital in strong, unembellished block letters.

A slim brunette in a pale gray suit peered at Sophia through a pair of fashionable glasses. “Sophia Reed?”

“Yes.”

“Please follow me.”

She rose and escorted her down a long corridor. The office was stately with pale earth-tone carpet, dark furniture and frosted glass partitions. Everything hinted at wealth and elegance. What kind of company was this?

Now that Sophia thought about it, she probably should’ve researched that before showing up. It was too late to pull out her phone and google, especially not when the receptionist was moving full speed ahead in a pair of pricey pumps that, Sophia noted, she walked in with a sophisticated ease.

The receptionist opened the door at the end of the hall. “Here you are.”

The inside was surprisingly spacious with a couple of leather benches. A curved desk sat to one side, on the right of double doors. Sophia looked back at the receptionist.

“There’s an adjoining office. He’s waiting for you on the other side,” she said, then vanished.

Sophia licked dry lips and breathed deeply. I got this.

She pushed the doors by the desk open and walked inside.

It was a huge corner office with a stunning view of the city. The space was minimalist and museum clean. A large black executive desk predominated, completely devoid of clutter. Only one sleek laptop and a phone sat on the shiny surface.

To the left of the desk, near the floor-to-ceiling glass wall, was a mini-bar stocked with bottles of amber liquor. A couple of chairs and a couch that were arranged around a coffee table took up the space on her side of the office. There wasn’t a single plant or photo in the austere space.

She hesitated, unsure what to do next. No one else was in the room…but the receptionist had acted like somebody was waiting for her.

Then a door on the other side of the office opened, and Dane walked in. Her mouth parted as shock rippled through her.

Dane was in a gray suit and pearl-colored tie; the flash impression was of a great white shark. He strode purposefully over to his desk and took a seat.

Despite the energy he radiated, the small lines around his eyes seemed more pronounced than the night before. Maybe that blonde kept him up late. Her mouth flattened at the thought.

“Sit down,” he said quietly, indicating a chair in front of the desk. Despite his calm demeanor, something dangerous lurked in his eyes.