That was fine. Derek had tried to acquire the thing on a lark. A shot at taking the man down, but Derek wasn’t ruled by revenge. If the opportunity came again, he’d give it another chance, but he’d moved on. And then he’d heard from Cassie.
In the last year, her name started turning up on some damn fine articles on people who ran in Derek’s world. He wasn’t stupid. He figured she wanted to interview him. Many had tried, but he rarely granted access because he didn’t want anyone digging into his family or his past. He was a private man.
He’d agreed to meet with Cassie out of curiosity. What kind of woman had she become? How far would she go to get what she wanted? Would she beg? He knew the company wasn’t doing well, and an interview with him would be a coup nobody else had succeeded in obtaining. He wouldn’t mind seeing her grovel before he said no.
Petty? Maybe. Definitely. But he’d looked her up on social media and was still intrigued enough by the woman to want to see her one more time.
“Derek, you haven’t heard a word I said,” Becky chided. They ran a casual office, first names, jeans and tee-shirts, except for Kade’s wife, who, when she was in the office as his assistant, liked to dress up.
He shook his head, knowing Becky was right. His head was elsewhere. “Sorry, I have a lot on my mind. But I have a ten o’clock appointment, Cassandra Storms?”
“Yes.”
“Please have her wait exactly ten minutes before sending her in.” No reason to see her immediately.
Let her sweat before they faced each other again.
Ironically he was the one who sweat when Becky announced Cassie had arrived and he counted down the minutes until ten after the hour. The time ticked past slowly.
He glanced at his watch. Finally he could get this show going, he thought and rang for Becky to send Cassie in.
He pushed himself to his feet just as she stepped into his office. He thought he was prepared, but online photos and social media profiles hadn’t done her justice. She’d filled out, her curves more that of a woman than a young girl. Her long brown hair was thick, made for him to wrap around his hand as he tugged her head back and had his way with her, kissing her everywhere.
She was fucking hot. Sexy and alluring in a way she hadn’t been when she was eighteen. And he was just as attracted to her now as he’d been then. More so, even. That was something for which he hadn’t been prepared.
“Mr. West, thank you for agreeing to see me,” she said in a slightly deeper voice than he remembered.
“Ms. Storms.” He strode out from behind his desk to greet her, extending his hand.
She slid her palm against his, her skin soft and silky, much like he imagined the rest of her would be.
Shit.
He needed to maintain control. Be in control. “I admit I was curious why you’d contact me after all these years,”
“Well, I…” She trailed off, obviously gathering her thoughts. She curled her hands around her clutch purse, showing more nerves than he thought she’d want him to see.
He took pity on her and gestured to the chairs across from his desk. “Have a seat,” he said and waited for her to settle in.
She crossed her legs at the ankles and waited. So prim and proper. Such a lady, which only made him want to see her messed up, from his hands in her hair, his mouth on hers.
He cupped the back of his neck, realizing he’d clearly underestimated her impact. Too bad he knew what lay beneath the cool façade. But he couldn’t tear his gaze from her trembling hands, a nervous gesture that didn’t jibe with the self-confident bitch he thought she’d be.
If she wasn’t ready to get to the point of this meeting, he was. “I take it you’re interested in me?” he asked.
Her cheeks flushed at his not-so-subtle innuendo. “Very,” she replied, not missing a beat, her lips lifting in an amused smile.
And in that second, they were thinking the same thing. He wanted to back her into the wall and kiss her senseless, and from the way her lips parted and a soft breath of air expelled from her lips, she felt the same. The chemistry between them was still strong.
She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Actually, I thought you might be interested in letting me do a piece about you for Take a Byte,” she said of her online tech magazine.
He nodded slowly. “I suspected as much. And the truth is, ever since the IPO and Kade’s stint on morning television, I’ve had pressure to do interviews and reveal more about myself. I’ve read your articles on Zuckerberg and Spiegel. You do your research and you’re a fair reporter,” he said.
She was a talented writer and interviewer. Their awkward past couldn’t diminish that fact.
Her eyes opened wide in surprise. “Thank you.”
“I’m just telling you the truth.”