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Rachel stood and walked around her desk, taking Vivienne’s hand and introducing herself.
As if remembering where she was, Vivienne blinked suddenly and spoke, “I’m Vivienne Bordeaux. I work for Arnold Hastings,” she began, only to have Rachel cut her off.
“Yes, I know. Arnold told me you were coming. I’m sorry my meeting ran over.” She turned to him. “This is our president, Conall Athelwulf. Conall, this is Vivienne Bordeaux, one of Arnold’s legal assistants.”
Conall stepped forward and took her hand, clasping it tighter when a jolt of electricity seemed to run through both of them at the contact. Her lips parted, and his heightened hearing picked up on the thundering of her heart.
“We’ve met before,” he said softly, his thumb lightly caressing the soft skin of her hand.
***
Vivienne’s breath caught in her throat as hordes of images assailed her. She saw herself in the outfit she’d worn on her birthday, her arms locked around his neck as he kissed her. Her eyes grew wide, as his merely narrowed. She hadn’t done that, had she? And then she saw herself agreeing to go with him. “Yes,” she’d said as she’d stared at him. There was no doubt what she’d been agreeing to. Where were these images coming from?
“Oh, well….” Rachel trailed off, looking between the two of them and lifting a brow. Conall made no move to explain, and Rachel turned her curious gaze to Vivienne, who nervously licked her lips and nodded.
“Um…yes, it’s—ah—nice to see you again, Mr. Athelwulf.”
As he nodded, Vivienne wondered how he could look so intensely controlled. That in itself was a paradoxical statement but the man pulled it off. His clean-cut black suit and sharp royal blue tie matched the vivid intensity of those blue eyes.
Rachel suddenly cleared her throat, and Vivienne found herself glancing guiltily at the older woman. She was staring at them both, the smile on her face doing nothing to dismiss the question in her gaze.
“Well then, shall we get down to business?” she asked.
“Oh yes. Yes,” Vivienne stammered, remembering the reason she was there. The contract. She made an attempt to reach into the bag, but found she couldn’t. Heat suffused her face when she realized that he still held her hand. She snatched it back quickly, stepped away, and extracted the document from her bag.
She handed Rachel the envelope. After opening it and flipping through the contract for select pages, she passed it to him. He read it quickly and nodded before handing it back to Rachel and turning those eyes on Vivienne once more.
“Well, thank you for bringing the documents, Ms. Bordeaux. Please tell Arnold that Cedar Creek looks forward to working with him in the future.”
Vivienne knew she was being dismissed and nodded. Maybe she was just fantasizing about him in her head. Just because she was seeing crystal-clear images of them practically having sex in a club didn’t mean it had actually happened. She’d had fantasizes before, never this vivid, but he was a very handsome man, and at times, she could be very…hormonal.
Her gaze moved to him, and she recognized that he was walking toward her. Her breath caught and she saw something flash in his eyes.
“I’ll walk Ms. Bordeaux out, Rachel. Keep me updated on any other developments.”
“Yes, of course,” Rachel replied, her voice low, with a hint of confusion.
Vivienne’s heart raced as he walked her to the elevator. No words were exchanged, but her body felt as if it were in overdrive. She stole a few glances at Conall, but he was looking straight ahead. The only indication that let her know that he was aware of her presence was his hand at her back. It was seemingly innocent, but could be read as possessive. She briefly wondered if he knew that.
Feeling awkward about their silence and needing something to distract her from the fact that her underwear was growing damp, Vivienne turned to him and asked softly, “How is your nephew?”
Eyes burning as he looked down at her, his nostrils flared slightly. “Eli is fine.”
She nodded and was about to follow that question with one about camping or school or something, when an image of his body pressed against her in the club ingrained itself on her mind once more, but this time, she saw Max pulling her away, Drew escorting her from the club. She cast a quick glance at him, only to find that he was watching her, his lips pursed tightly as if he were witnessing the same vision, which was impossible, of course.
The elevator finally arrived and she scurried onto it, fidgeting with the bag at her side as he settled next to her. He pressed the button for the first floor and the door closed.
