Page 20 of Darkness Tempt Me
“Are you saying that you’re mine to command, Peyton?”
My lips part in shock and humiliation.Damn.He continues just staring me down, patiently waiting for my answer. Someone fucking pinch me. Everything we’ve said in the last minute should sound like a script from some fantasy porn, but I swear, in his deep rumbling voice, it just sounds hot. Something like shame blends together with undeniable arousal.
I squirm in my seat, trying my hardest not to readjust my pants and give myself away. Clearing my throat, I refocus on the subject matter. “Like I said, Mr. Rose is not my boss. I answer only to you. You told me to clear your agenda for today, and now it’s free. You can go and enjoy your day with Hunter.”
Mavik’s smile widens. “You wear your emotions so prettily, Pey.”
I blink up at him, trying to process his words.
“You’re right. Hunter has no right to cancel my meetings, especially when he doesn’t know what they are or who they’re with. For example, if he were to try to cancel my meeting with Daniel Sinclair, then there would be hell to pay,” he says. “Regardless, Hunt knows me well and had the right to assume that today is an exception to the rule.”
“Sir?” I say, confusion breaking through my arousal. “What’s your relationship with Mr. Rose?”
That damn smirk returns, and I instantly know he isn’t going to answer me. The mask he always wears slips back into place. I’m no longer looking at Mavik, the boss I’ve been crushing on for the past three years. Rather, I’m staring at Mavik Blackwood, the man who can dominate a boardroom and easily charminvestors into handing over their checkbooks. He’s so damn intimidating like this, and that intensity is just as scary as it is thrilling.
It takes me a few more moments to realize that he’s just staring at me.
“Never mind, sir. I shouldn’t ask personal questions like tha—”
“Come with me,” he blurts. Nerves flash quickly across his stoic face, those hard lines softening for just a moment.
He looks so damn vulnerable, appearing younger than his thirty-six years. It’s a new look for him, and because of it, I agree blindly without even asking any questions. Only when we’re in the car and Mavik nervously drums the steering wheel does the thought occur to me.
Why would a visit with Hunter Rose have this type of effect on Mavik Blackwood?
Chapter thirteen
Peyton
We pull up to a large, impressive building with a shiny, sleek exterior. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this. The whole building screams old money. As soon as Mavik parks the car, his fingers start up that damn drumming again.
He’s nervous. It’s a strange emotion to see on Mavik Blackwood, but I’m weirdly honored he trusts me enough to show me this side of him.
Tentatively, I reach over and grasp his right hand with mine, tangling our fingers together. Squeezing just enough to distract him. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He studies our laced fingers. Another line crossed, but I refuse to take it back. He lets out a deep sigh. “My uncle left a will before he passed. Hunter has been reading through it. He said it was an emergency, and I’m afraid he’s going to tell me that Mick left Blackwood Investments to someone else.” He clears his throat. “Someone other than me.”
My mouth falls open with shock and outrage. Even though Mick Blackwood was the owner before he passed, he was hardly around when I joined the company three years ago. Not to mention, Mavik has been CEO for even longer than that. “He can’t do that! This is your family company,” I blurt.Did that sound a little bratty?
Mavik’s lips twitch with amusement, dark eyes boring into mine.
I shake my head. No, that doesn’t even make sense. “I only met your uncle a few times, sir, but he loved you. Anyone could see that. I don’t think he’d do that to you.” There’s a steady confidence to my voice, although I can’t confirm the veracity of my words.
Placing my hand in my pocket, I pull out the wolf figurine I made for him a while ago. I was waiting for the perfect moment to give this to him, and it can’t get any better than this.
I clutch the wooden figurine in my fingers nervously before showing it to him. “A wolf symbolizes strength and power,” I say, handing it to him. “But it also symbolizes loyalty. Take it. For good luck.”
The wolf is so tiny in his palm. He runs a finger down its back, looking at it with awe. “Did you carve this for me last night?”
My head snaps up, and our eyes lock. “How did you know I carved it?” I never told him I carved things.
“I see more than you realize, Peyton,” he growls more to himself than anything. Despite that, the rumbling sound makes me shiver, and suddenly, I’m remembering that night I performed for him in front of my glass door. What would he do if he knew? What would he think if he knew I’d do it again? I’d strip myself bare and hand him my heart if he’d allow it.
I clear my throat. “I-I carved it a week or two ago. But I specifically made it for you.” I’m unable to say more. It would betoo damn cheesy if he knew just how fitting I think the symbolic wolf matches his character.
He smirks. “Thank you, Peyton. That means a lot to me.” He places the wooden wolf in his pocket, almost reverently, before opening the door and sliding out of the car. That earlier display of nerves is gone, no longer in sight. His CEO mask is back in place as we walk through the front door.
Mavik strides in like he owns the place, only pausing to briefly nod at the pretty woman at reception. “Mr. Blackwood. He’s waiting for you in his office.”
