by Priscilla West
Date Published: 8/12/2013
“What gives you a thrill Kristen?”
The minute I saw Vincent Sorenson, I knew he was trouble. Billionaire. Bad boy. And dangerously sexy. He was everything I craved, and nothing I needed.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t just avoid him. The higher ups at my company decided they needed his business, and I was on the team to bring him in. Vincent Sorenson didn’t seem as interested in business as he was in me, but I knew that was a door better left unopened. If I got involved with him, it would only unearth the pain I spent years trying to bury.
I thought I had it under control, but I seriously underestimated Vincent’s seductive charm and silver-tongue. I would soon find out how delicious it would feel to let myself fall into this forbidden surrender.
“Here we are, you can go inside. Vincent’s ready for you.” The receptionist stopped in front of a frosted glass door. The same glass formed a wall that stretched to either side of the entry.
I nodded thanks to her before pushing open the door and walking inside. Silence greeted me. Whatever the glass was made of, it completely blocked the noise from outside. In the corner was a black leather couch with a small coffee table in front of it. A large desk was set squarely in the center of the room, a metal and glass tribute to modernity. It was a stark contrast to his desk in Cape Town.
Vincent stood by the window, one arm behind his back, looking out. He was wearing a navy suit matched with a grey tie and white shirt. His long locks were slicked neatly back. Unwillingly preoccupied with wild fantasies, I nearly tripped on the rug in front of his desk as I walked closer. My pulse danced in my veins and a flush coursed through my cheeks. If I had fallen on him twice, I would’ve died from embarrassment.
Blue skies and skyscrapers along Central Park silhouetted his figure. He looked equally comfortable in a suit as he had in shorts and flip-flops.
He turned around, his dark eyes shimmering. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
I looked at his chin, chiseled with perfect angles, as if carved from a slab of marble. My eyes moved up to his mouth, his lips full and soft.
I cleared my throat. “Yes, it is. I’ve never quite gotten used to the view. Good to see you again, Mr. Sorenson.”
“Please Kristen, have a seat.” I stumbled to the guest chair in front of his desk while Vincent remained by the window.
I took it as my cue to continue. I set my bag down and reached inside for the glossy documents Richard and I prepared for a follow-up meeting.
Vincent studied me for a moment, his head tilted slightly to one side, as if examining a piece of art. Or his prey. Not knowing what else to do, I unleashed my rehearsed speech. “Thank you for meeting with me again. Waterbridge-Howser will be an excellent choice for your wealth management needs. We offer personal attention as well as products that larger—”
He held his hand up to stop me. “I’ve decided to go with Waterbridge-Howser.” He glided from the window to me, occupying the small space between my seat and his enormous desk. He leaned back and sat on the edge, his crotch inches away from my heated face.
For a moment I forgot where I was or what I was even trying to accomplish. Wait, did he just say he wanted to work with Waterbridge-Howser? I realized my mouth had been hanging open, and I closed it with a snap. Adrenaline surged through my body. I had just closed a big account—this was massive.
“Sir?” I said, ignoring his position so as not to draw attention.
“Please, Kristen, it’s Vincent. I let it slide when you called me Mr. Sorenson earlier, but if you’re going to call me ‘sir’ then I’m going to address you as ‘madam’. Now let’s get back to business.”
Vincent Sorenson, eager to get back to business. The irony wasn’t lost on me, even in my dazed state.
“I can sign the paperwork today, but there’s one condition.” He paused. “You must be my point of contact. I’ll need a number to reach you at any point in the day.”
His dark pupils drew my gaze and I found myself unable to look away. I knew there’d be a catch. “Richard’s usually the one who works directly with clients and I’m not sure I have the authority to—”
His expression implacable, he waved his hand to swat away my excuses. “Get the authority. Your partner is insulting and unacceptable. You’re smart, ambitious, and not afraid to take risks. It’s either you or I walk away.”
I blushed at his compliments, although I wasn’t sure why he thought I wasn’t afraid of taking risks, but I had bigger issues to deal with. Even though this would be an enormous boost to my career, Richard would be offended if I agreed to Vincent’s condition. Not to mention the obvious: I’d be spending much more time alone with Vincent. I doubted his true motives, but there was no way I could turn down this opportunity. I’d just have to figure out how to handle the complications.
I released a deep breath. “You’re certainly very demanding, Vincent.”
“You have no idea how demanding I can be.” His eyes traveled up the exposed skin of my legs as if possessing me with his gaze. I crossed my legs to quell the uncomfortable sensation growing between them.
And there it is again, he can turn it on and off at will. Despite the edgy feeling of being this close to Vincent, I had to admire his ability to make anything sound sexual. If he was willing to sign with Waterbridge-Howser based on the misguided belief he’d get into my pants, I wasn’t about to stop him. I’d just have to keep him at arm’s length.
“Fine, I’ll be your point of contact,” I said, pulling out a business card from my satchel and handing it to him. “My information is on the card, you can reach me at the office during the day. My Blackberry number is available for emergencies as well.” I hoped the emphasis was taken.
“Good,” he said, pausing as though there was something else he wanted to add before gesturing towards my bag. “Do you have the paperwork?”
I handed him the contract.
“Thank you for deciding to go with us. I’m looking forward to working with you,” I said, holding my hand out. He took it and squeezed firmly, the heat of his palm sending tingles up my arm. I didn’t know if I was more excited about landing a huge client or Vincent’s touch.
Without moving from his position in front of me, he signed and dropped the papers on his desk, rather than returning them to me. “Now that we have the business out of the way, we can get to the pleasure.” The last word rolled off his tongue like a satin ribbon, sensuous and inviting.
“I’m sorry?” Heat coursed through my face.
“We didn’t finish our conversation at the bar.”
“I thought we were quite clear,” I said, mouth drying by the second. He wasn’t going to make this easy.
He shrugged. “You made it clear you didn’t like mixing business with pleasure, so I didn’t. The business is done, now it’s time for pleasure.”
Priscilla West is the author of the popular erotic romance series The Sandstone Affair and is currently writing the Surrender series. She likes to write stories with sassy heroines and strong but flawed heroes.
She enjoys: cuddles, men in suits, eskimo kisses, life-sized teddy bears, and eggs over medium.
You can find her at priscillawest.com
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