Page 18 of Enthrall Climax
“What do I say?”
“How about this?” He gave a shrug. “‘Bitch, you’re not wearing that fucking dress.’”
I stared at him for the longest time and then burst out laughing, both of us cracking up. Shay was trying to talk but he was incoherent due to his guffawing; both of us struggled to breathe. I needed to lean against the wall to stop myself from falling over from our hysterical howling.
“Looks to me like I solved your problem.” He scooped up his sword. “You’re welcome.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration over my dilemma. I didn’t want to hurt Mia’s feelings.
Shay pointed his épée at me.“En garde!”
I stepped forward until the tip of Shay’s sword dug once more into my breastplate. “When are you going to tell me, Shay?”
He slipped his mask down over his face. “Tell you what?”
“Whatever is going on with you affectsus.”
“My job is to protect you.”
“Your job is to be whatever I wish you to be.”
He seemed to mull this over, though it was challenging to read him through the mesh.
“Well?” I pushed for an answer.
“Things are good.” And yet he held his breath for a split second to carry the lie.
I might be a control freak, but I knew well enough to take my psychological chokehold off a man who could potentially shut down altogether. My superpower for detecting the truth made people wary of me. I needed him to relax again and let his guard down.
The business world was morphing me into the person I’d once feared I’d become: A hard-edged bastard with zero tolerance. Maybe one day I’d revel in it, but not today.
I threw down my sword and headed for the door.
Shay called after me. “Do you want me to talk with Mia about the dress?”
“No.” I’d let this man into my world and minutes ago his sword had hovered an inch from my heart like a metaphor of my self-inflicted vulnerability.
“See you later then?” Doubt saturated his tone.
I’d given him the power to destroy me.
“My office, 10:00 A.M. sharp, Mr. Gardner.”
I left him standing there.
ALL HE HAD TO DOwas step into my line of sight and I forgot how to breathe.
Behold, the extraordinary vision that was Cameron Cole, devastatingly handsome in that gorgeous bespoke suit, carrying that sleek briefcase through the Cole Tower foyer like he damn well owned the place.
Okay, he did own the place, but did he have to intimidate everyone in his orbit? He walked like a man who ruled the world.
It was hard to read Cameron’s expression, but I guessed it was one of annoyance that I’d left home without him. I ducked behind a small crowd who’d gathered in the Cole Tea Shop, which was conveniently positioned near the elevators so employees could grab their caffeine fix before heading to their desks.
Braving a glance in his direction again, I saw that Cam’s prickly demeanor was even unsettling the other employees who were striving to give him a wide berth. I’d mistimed coming down to the ground level to get a drink. It was free for employees and they had extra large cups, unlike the staff room.
I needed to be on my A-game today. Decisions had to be made—and fast—after my nightmare morning.
Last night I’d felt like a whirlwind of possibilities were opening up. The thought of working at one of the most celebrated fashion houses made my stomach flip. Visiting the Chelsea office and experiencing Cameron’s private tour had to be one of the most romantic evenings we’d ever experienced. He had remembered my private sketches and gone out of his way to see my secret dream realized.
