I don’t have time to weigh the comfort of a company car against the extra time it will take to navigate through New York City traffic. “Excellent. Is there anything else I should know before this meeting?” I glance at the clock on my computer screen.
We have five minutes.
“I don’t think so,” Walker says. “Everything you need to get started should be in the portfolio. Don’t get too hung up on this meeting, though. It’s mainly to feel things out. We’ve got other meetings already scheduled.”
“Great,” I say with a smile. “Thanks for everything, Walker. When I’m finished, do I report back to you?”
“Indeed,” he replies. “Consider me your direct line to executive management.”
With that, he turns and heads out the door, Adam following closely behind him.
“If you need anything,” Adam says as he pauses in the doorway, “I’ll be at my desk, right outside.”
“Thanks, Adam,” I say, then turn my attention back to the portfolio. I need something, anything, about Pierce Industries that I can use to keep the conversation above board. I cannot mention his eyes. I cannot mention the dreams. I cannot mention how it felt to look at him across that table all evening…
There’s a light knock on the doorframe, and I look up expecting to see Adam or Walker, back with a last-minute addition to the portfolio.
Instead, I’m looking directly into Christian’s eyes.
Chapter Twelve
Christian
“No way,” I say quietly, under my breath. “No fucking way.”
I’m absolutely goddamn dumbfounded. Because standing behind the desk in a swanky corner office, waiting for me, is Quinn Campbell.
In the next instant, I register the heat coming off of her, the intensity with which she’s practically trembling, even though we’re here for a business meeting and nothing else, professional topics only. Her eyes are locked on mine, but I can see from here that her breathing is shallow, the cut of her jacket not disguising the rise and fall of her perfect, gorgeous breasts.
I want to give myself a stern shake for being such a fucking idiot. How could I not have gotten the name of the person I’d be meeting with? Maybe if I’d done my homework, I wouldn’t be standing here with a racing heart and a cock so hard that it’s painfully pressing against the fabric of my pants.
Jesus, she looks so fucking good. The clothes she’s wearing fit her so well that it’s like they were custom-made for her. The pencil skirt hugs her tight, lifted ass in a way that would be obscene if it wasn’t business casual.
But as much as her body is drawing me in, it’s not her curves that have me captivated. It’s the energy she’s radiating. The pure confidence with an undercurrent of something I can’t define, but I feel it reverberating through every cell in my body.
We stand facing each other for what seems like it must be the longest moment in history, and then she leaps into action. A practiced smile spreads across her face, and she moves toward me across the office with measured steps, her hand extended.
“I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced,” she says in an even tone. “I’m Quinn Campbell, and we’ll be working together to make some strategic adjustments to your public reputation.”
I take her hand and a jolt of hot lust spikes all the way up my arm, across my shoulders, and down my spine, followed quickly by the most intense need for another human being I’ve ever felt in my life. It’s not limited to lust, or sex. I need to know her. Everything about her. As quickly as possible.
“Christian Pierce,” I say with my signature cocky smile, shaking her hand.
I resolve right then to act like an adult. Despite our obvious and overwhelming attraction to one another, I’m not going to act on it. I’m going to keep this professional. She is a public relations expert who my father has retained on behalf of Pierce Industries. I’m one of Pierce Industries’ greatest assets. This is going to be no fucking problem.
Only I don’t want to let go of her hand.
That could be a problem.
It’s petite and soft in mine, and even though the handshake is well over, her hand rests in mine, holding on gently as if to feel my skin.
My charming instincts take over, and I turn her hand in mine so that the back of it is facing up, and then I bring it to my lips, a half smile on my face. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I say, kissing the back of her hand like some French fucking troubadour.
No. Not the most professional thing to do, but it’s right in line with Christian Pierce’s usual playbook.
She blushes a deep red, then pulls her hand back as if I’ve given her an electric shock. “I’ve been giving some thought to a few strategies we could…” When she begins speaking, her voice is strong and clear, but I can’t look away from her, and I know she feels the same magnetic pull towards me because her eyes don’t leave mine. They can’t leave mine. Instead, they bore deeper into my soul, searching, searching.