Page 19 of Vows of Deceit
“Ms. King,” he greeted with a half-smile that made her pulse trip.
“Mr. Collin.” Her tone was measured. She didn’t let her lips curve until he was close enough to catch the slight scent of cedar on his skin.
“Still fond of formalities, I see,” he murmured.
“Only when I don’t trust someone yet.”
Grayson chuckled, low and rich. “Fair enough.”
They moved into the private conference suite. Delia followed, tablet in hand, while Jared from PR offered a quick, theatrical wave.
“Should I send in a photographer?” Jared teased. “We need something for the press release. Preferably with sparks.”
Cassie rolled her eyes. “Out, Jared.”
He winked and left.
Grayson set down his folder and pulled out designs, sleek, bold, modern with a touch of warmth. Cassie leaned over the plans, her shoulder brushing his lightly.
“I thought you were all glass and steel,” she said.
“I was,” he replied. “But lately I’ve been rethinking permanence.”
Something flickered in his voice. Cassie’s breath caught just slightly. They talked for over an hour, adjusting budgets, timelines, and design integrations. Grayson was sharp, insightful, and most importantly he listened. When Cassie spoke, he didn’t just nod. He heard her. Asked questions. Challenged her ideas with respect, not arrogance.
It was a dynamic she hadn’t realized she’d been starving for. By the time the meeting wrapped, Delia had to remind them they were late for lunch.
“I know a place nearby,” Grayson said as he gathered the papers. “Not paparazzi-prone.”
Cassie hesitated. Then nodded. “Lead the way.”
The bistro he took her to was tucked into a quiet lane, all rustic wood and French jazz. They sat in a shaded courtyard, sharing olives and grilled seabass. The wine was crisp. The company unsettlingly easy.
“I almost didn’t come back,” Grayson said as he swirled his glass.
“Why did you?”
He met her gaze. “Your name was on the contract.”
Cassie raised an eyebrow. “You flew across the country because of me?”
“No. I came because I trust your vision,” he said. “But I stayed because I saw something in your eyes at the charity event.”
She paused. “What did you see?”
He leaned back, gaze intense. “A woman burning quietly from the inside. Who’s done waiting to be loved right.”
Cassie inhaled sharply.
Grayson looked away, giving her space. “Too forward?”
“Too accurate,” she admitted, voice low.
There was a silence, heavy but not uncomfortable.
“I don’t mean to pry,” he said. “But if you ever want to talk, off the record, off the record books, I’m a good listener.”
Cassie sipped her wine and studied him. There was no agenda in his expression. Just quiet understanding.
