Her sapphire eyes meet mine. They take me in, standing behind my desk, and widen for a fraction of a second. It’s less than a breath, far less than a heartbeat, but I feel my own response like I would feel a bullet through flesh. The force of the impact. The shock of recognition. The muscles around my right knee become part of this cascade of muscle and bone, tightening around the ligaments, mired in memory.
What the fuck did she see? I’m stuck by the urge to take her face in my hands and tilt her face to mine so I can stare into her eyes. As if that clear-cut crystal would reveal the thoughts in her head.
She only saw what I wanted her to see.
It’s an impossible thing, to feel this hot rush of desire for Charlotte Van Kempt.
I thought Cyrus Van Kempt would show up to his own destruction, but I guess not. He sent his daughter to face my wrath.
She’ll be my revenge. She’ll be the person I’ll carry it out on. Her family’s sacrifice.
There’s no disappointment, really.
It will be even sweeter this way.
If she knows this, it doesn’t show on her face. Her features are delicate and strong at the same time. She doesn’t look smug as she approaches my desk, her skirt suit moving with her body as if it was made for her. The outfit gives her the illusion of being older, but she’s not. Charlotte Van Kempt is twenty. She’s twenty, and she looks serious. Determined.
And if her expression is slightly veiled, then it’s because she’s trying to cover her nerves.
She stops at the edge of my desk and extends her hand. “Charlotte Van Kempt. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
For fuck’s sake.
That voice. It sounds like a rustle of silk sheets. It feels like a fist around my cock.
I take her hand in mine, and touching her is like hearing her speak. Electrifying in a way it definitely should not be. “Mason Hill. A pleasure to have you here, Ms. Van Kempt.”
She has no idea how much of a pleasure it is. And an unexpected one. This was supposed to be a meeting with the cunning asshole who ruined my family. Instead I’m left with his young, determined daughter. But I don’t get the impression that she’s foolish. Naive, perhaps. Far too innocent to be in this room with me.
Far too innocent. Look at that hope in her eyes. The slight tremble in her voice gives away her own anticipation. And the scent of her—fresh and clean with a hint of the raindrops caught in her hair.
A beat passes after I drop her hand, and she uses it to watch me, not breaking eye contact. She’s bolder than I expected, and more afraid. The expanse of my desk isn’t enough to keep me from her. It’s an illusory shield. I could reach across and touch the hollow of her throat, which rises with every breath she takes. Charlotte Van Kempt isn’t aware of it, or she’d be trying harder to hide it.
If I touched her there now, would her pulse be quick as beating wings? Would she be ready to fly?
I want to know.
I want to know everything about her.
“I understand you’ve come to discuss my offer.”
Her next breath is deeper. “Yes. I’m very excited to talk to you about it.” She’s excited about something, that much is clear. The pink of her cheeks sets off the blue in her eyes. “Shall we have a seat?”
“I’ll stay standing.”
“Okay.” Her eyes slide to the chairs on either side of her but come back to mine. “I’ve gone over the terms, and I think a partnership between Van Kempt Industries and Phoenix Enterprises would benefit both of us. We’ve got a piece of prime Manhattan real estate already in development, and both parties stand to make a good return.”
Christ, she’s adorable like this, talking about benefits and returns like she knows a goddamn thing. She doesn’t. I can see that in her eyes. See it behind the confidence she’s projecting. Her nervousness burns, lighting up all that blue.
“So,” she continues, “I thought we could come to an agreement today and move forward.”
Yes, I want to say. I want to say it so badly. Yes, Charlotte Van Kempt, with your blue eyes and rosy cheeks and little black skirt suit, yes. We will come to this agreement and your smile will be enormous. The gray skies will be nothing compared to the blue of your eyes.
No—fuck no. That’s not something I’ll ever say to anyone, much less Charlotte, much less the daughter of my enemy.
It’s the anticipation. That’s what this is. The compulsion to jump the gun, to end the game right now. It’s been a long time, but I’m not going to fuck it up here and now. Not after everything I’ve done. Not after everything I’ve had to do.
“No.”
It brings her up short. This is not how she imagined this would go.
This is not how I imagined this would go.
Charlotte Van Kempt is a surprise. I’m taken with the nip of her waist and the promise of her thighs underneath the prim black skirt. Taken with her parted lips. Taken with her bravery.
Her hand tightens on the strap of her purse. “You’re saying no to an agreement?”
“I’ve had time to consider, Ms. Van Kempt,” I tell her, flipping a page in the documents in front of me. “And I doubt it’s as mutually beneficial as you say. Why would your family business be worth that much? Isn’t it falling down around your ears?”
Her lips part, and her hand comes up to the hollow of her throat. There. I’ve done it. Shaken her confidence. Her fingertips brush against the skin there, as if she’s looking for something. No doubt she is. That delicate flesh screams for diamonds. She needs them. Charlotte used to have them, I have no doubt. Something to ground her. Keep her here on earth.
She swallows. “But you—you made the offer.”
Indeed I did.
“Yes, and I’ll consider it. For a majority stake.”
Her eyes fly open, no subtlety to it this time. This isn’t what she expected. I’m not what she expected. Well, turnabout is fair play. I wanted to embarrass her father at a meeting, and I got a society girl instead. More than a society girl. “It’s Van Kempt Industries. Our family’s name is right there. We can’t give it away.”
I let the smirk move slowly over my face. God, she’s exquisite. Let her see how much delight I take in this. “Would you rather file for Chapter 11?”
Charlotte’s chin lifts. “That would be impossible, because my family’s company isn’t bankrupt.”
“Isn’t it?” A deeper red on her cheeks. I keep telling myself they can’t get redder, and then they do. There are other parts of her I’d very much like to experiment with in this way. See how red they can get. See how fast the tears come. “Isn’t that why you’re here on your knees, begging for a deal?”
“I’m not on my knees. And I’m not begging.”
“Not yet.”
She gasps, reaching for her throat, and this time she realizes what she’s doing. It’s too late. Her secret is already mine.
“Never.” The tremble in her voice now isn’t from nerves. It’s from anger, and it’s lovely on her face. Flashing in her eyes. Charlotte Van Kempt is doing her best to keep it close. It’s riveting. One deep breath, then another, and a brief flutter of her eyelashes. “Van Kempt Industries has a lot to offer. Any business would be lucky to invest in us. If you aren’t interested, I’ll find someone who is.”