She narrowed her eyes on me as she came at me, bringing herself toe to toe with me. "I want my girl, Caleb. I do not want to bring anyone else into this, but I will if I have to."
I leaned forward, bringing my eyes level with hers. "Your girl has been sent home since you got here."
She stumbled slightly back, and I watched as the heat from her eyes swept to her cheeks as she balled her hands into fists.
"Until we meet again, Duchess."
I waited by the open door for a minute until she finally grabbed her bag and swept passed me, leaving that aroma of wildflowers behind.
"This isn't over," she stated as she left.
"I hope not," I whispered, watching her hips sway before she disappeared down the hall.
I pointed to my secretary and watched as Laura scurried around her desk and ran up to me.
"Yes. Sir."
"Find out that scent she's wearing. I want that scent everywhere by the time I get here tomorrow." "Yes, of course, Sir."
I shut my door and went back to my desk, already thinking about the next time we'd meet. I wouldn't be as nice to her in our next encounter. I promised her she'd scream, and I wasplanning on stealing those screams from her just as she'd stolen everything from me.
Chapter 18
Caleb
The restaurant was one of those upscale rooftop spots nestled atop a high-rise hotel in the heart of New York City. Its floor-to-ceiling windows offer a panoramic view of the city skyline glittering beneath the night sky. Modern lighting cast a soft glow over marble floors, crystal glassware sparkled like ice, and clean-cut men in tailored suits floated from table to table, pretending their money made them untouchable. I hated these places. Too polished, too quiet, too much pretense. The man's arm brushed against mine as I leaned in, making sure the low cut of my red dress did its job. He was a hedge fund baby through and through, born into wealth and fed privilege from a silver spoon. Salt and pepper hair matched his well-trimmed beard, giving him a distinguished edge that might’ve fooled someone into thinking he’d earned any of it. But I knew better. Still, I wasn’t here to judge. I was here to win him over, and if my cleavage helped speed up the deal, then so be it. Rhea had warned me he’d be more into the image than the woman beneath it. Perfect. That meant I could work him without worrying about his hands getting greedy. I’d dressed to kill tonight. The fire-red silk clung to every one of my curves, aneckline plunging just enough to leave him wondering what it would take to see more. The client across from me wasn’t here for a date. He was here to close a deal, and I’d use every asset I had to make sure the numbers leaned in my favor.
I was halfway through a steak that was overpriced and under-seasoned when his phone buzzed. He answered, nodded, and stood with a tight smile. "Emergency call. I’ll be back in a moment."
The second he walked off, I didn’t even get a breath in before the leather of the booth shifted beside me.
"Didn’t know you liked your steak rare,Duchess."
My heart thudded and a slow heat spread through me, one that had nothing to do with the wine or the man who’d just left.
"You’ve got five seconds to leave before I make a scene," I muttered, keeping my voice low and my eyes forward.
But Caleb didn’t leave. No, he fucking leaned in, looking every bit the devil, I remembered. He looked handsome tonight, too handsome. His midnight, black hair was slicked back with just enough wave to hint at how wild it could get. His dark eyes were bottomless, a storm brewing with control and chaos, and his lips looked fully sculpted. Sinfully tempting in the dim light, drawing me in like a magnet. His jawline was cut from granite, a sharp, masculine edge softened only by the five o’clock shadow that shadowed his skin. Everything about him screamed danger, but it was the kind you wanted to touch, taste, and curse yourself for afterward. And that perfectly cut navy suit molded to broad shoulders, hiding a body I knew was carved from power and blood. Turkish steel in human form, and I hated how my pulse betrayed me just being near him.
His hand slid beneath the pristine white tablecloth with all the arrogance of a man who thought he held all the power. His fingers were tracing the inside of my thigh with a slow, possessive stroke that made my breath stutter in betrayal. Heatlicked up my spine as I grabbed his wrist, the warmth of his touch searing into my skin, dangerous and electric, the kind that made a woman forget how to say no and remember how easily she'd once said yes.
"You looked bored. Figured I’d offer you something more...appetizing."
I gritted my teeth and gripped my fork like a weapon. "Touch me again, and I swear to God, Caleb..."
"What, you’ll stab me to death?" he said, voice soft but laced in wicked amusement as he looked down at the fork. "Might take you a while."
"Don't tempt me."
"Wouldn’t be the first time someone tried. But you wouldn’t do it here. Not in front of all these rich pricks."
He smelled like expensive sin. His over-priced cologne mixed with the tobacco scent of his cigars, and his breath tasted like whiskey, while the heat of his hands induced violence. His fingers tightened on my leg just as he leaned in to whisper against my neck.
"You can dine with them, dress in their silk, wear their diamonds... but we both know who you cum for when you’re done playing Queen."
His fingers slid higher, brushing the edge of my panties, dragging heat across flesh that had no business reacting to him. I clenched his wrist tighter, but he only leaned in further, his lips brushing my ear with infuriating control.
"Go ahead, make a scene. Let all these polished little monsters see what you really are. We both know you won’t, because truth has a price in this world, and you can’t afford the fallout. Not here. Not in front of the client you’re so desperately trying to impress."
