Page 34 of Sight of Fate

Cabin fever is real. The snow finally stopped, and the streets are clear, which is good because I’m itching to explore the town this weekend. Maybe peek into some of those shops on Main Street. I can’t remember the last time I walked around without fear, but with the pass closed, I don’t have to look over my shoulder every second.

A meeting pops up on my calendar for this afternoon. One p.m. Legal briefing. I open it and see it’s for two hours with Andros. I check to see who’s invited and gulp when I see I’m the only one. Reluctantly, I accept.

I pick up my fork and push some of the corn and black beans around in my bowl. The delicious Southwest salad Macklin made isn’t as appetizing as it did a minute ago.

“Not hungry?” Teague asks, not looking up from his laptop. He finished his lunch a few minutes ago. Normally, we sit and talk, but he’s trying to finalize his notes for an important kick-off meeting in twenty minutes.

I glance across the table at him, wondering if he’s this attuned to everyone. “I’ve never eaten so much in my life as I have this week.”

He taps on a few keys, then leans back and stares at me with those perceptive sterling eyes. “Do you want us to stop?”

Do I? I lift a defensive shoulder, unable to silence the voice in my head that keeps wondering when they’re going to get tired of me. “I can take care of myself, you know.”

His eyes narrow. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Unable to say no, I press my lips together, and satisfaction crosses his face. “Glad that’s settled. I’ll be out of the office this afternoon at that kick-off. Macklin’s grilling steaks tonight. Seven o’clock. Don’t be late.” He picks up his bag and strides out of the office, leaving me sitting there with my mouth open.

When did I agree to dinner?

Chapter Sixteen

ANDROS

Islide a finger around the inside of my collar. This fucking tie needs to come off, but with her in here, I don’t dare. Better to be uncomfortable. I stop to sip my tea, letting the aroma fill my nose, in an attempt to distract me from the smell of her blood. Not to mention the layer of vanilla on top. Sweet, like frosting, and just as tempting. The combination is everywhere: in our condo, the conference rooms, and now my office. Not my best idea to hold our meeting here.

My mouth waters, and I ache with the need to sink my teeth into her. What I wouldn’t give for a sip. Not liking that thought, I tilt my neck to one side, then the other until it cracks. Control, I remind myself.

Thankfully, my mind works quite well on autopilot, reeling off the salient points of the contract as I continue my pacing. I’m flying through the dictation when a thought has me pausing. Why don’t I hear the keyboard?

“Why aren’t you taking this down?” I snarl, striding over to glare down at her. “Do you have something better to do?”

She straightens and points to the screen. “This new dictation software is capturing every word, but I’m following along in case it misses something. When it does, I jot it down.” Her finger taps on the empty notebook beside her.

“Show me,” I demand, bending over to see her screen. For a second, time slows as I follow the curve of her neck to the pulse beating at its base, but I grit my teeth and yank my gaze back to her laptop.

She points to the blinking cursor silently waiting for more words, then hits pause. “See, it even caught the last little bit between us.”

Intrigued, I skim the output and grunt at the clean sentences with punctuation. This could be a game changer for me. I flex my fingers in my gloves to alleviate their stiffness. Up until now, I’ve relied on my ability to memorize every word said in a meeting, so I wouldn’t have to remove my gloves to take notes. But it would be nice to have an alternative option.

“I didn’t realize it had become so sophisticated. Last time I used dictation software, I forgot the punctuation, and it was like a giant novel of run-on sentences,” I tell her, wondering why the hell I’m sharing this with her. “Send me the information so I can install it on my laptop.”

She turns and smiles. “I’ll send it right now.” Clicking a box in the upper-right corner, she shares the link to my email.

Damn her. I stare at those curved pink lips, wanting more than I deserve. Straightening, I stalk over to the bank of windows in the corner where it’s cooler.

Where was I? For once, my formidable brain fails me. “Read me the last five minutes.”

She takes a deep breath, and her slightly husky voice repeats my words back to me. My body stirs, but I ruthlessly shut it down and let my mind take over. “Patent ownership will remain with Granite, Ltd.” I begin again, reeling off the next line.

“Granite Limited?”

“Telcom, the company we’re selling, Granite Securities, and our financial firm, Rock Investments, all fall under the one umbrella,” I explain.

She jots down a note, and I continue.

For the next hour, I stare at the mountains around us and lose myself to the intricacies of contract law, a favorite subject of mine.

Long ago, my ignorance kept me chained to the vampire who sired me. Henri, an evil, careless bastard who used my weaknesses, like an inability to read, to keep me uninformed and dependent on him.