Page 35 of Sight of Fate

When I finally escaped, Macklin saved me. In more ways than one. He expanded the narrow world I’d lived in for so long. First, by reading to me, then by teaching me to read. Since then, I’ve made it my mission to consume everything I can get my hands on.

Her body rustles behind me, bringing me back to the present. I take a deep breath and silently swear as her scent invades my senses. Not the vanilla she wears on the surface, but her blood and the wet heat between her legs. My body hardens, and I grit my teeth, trying to think of anything else, but not even the law can distract me.

I stride over to my desk and take a seat, hiding my body’s response. Her pink tongue slides along her lips, and I almost groan. If she weren’t Teague’s, and possibly Macklin’s, fated mate, I’d stretch those innocent boundaries of hers, starting with that tantalizing mouth.

“Is there more?” she asks, her hand rising to tug on her collar.

Her instincts are good. I frown and swipe the points of my incisors. My control is slipping. Time to end this meeting.

“That’s it for now. Send me the notes, and I’ll compile the first draft of the contract. We’ll review on Monday with the rest of the team,” I tell her.

She nods and types for a minute. “Sent. I like this new deal.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Why?”

She’s silent for a moment. “The terms are more favorable than the last offer. Their intent to license and sell the product will enable them to get to market faster, which is probably why they aren’t demanding as much as the last company.”

There’s a brain behind that pretty face. “And what do you think we should negotiate or take off the table?”

She bites her bottom lip for a second. “I’m not sure. Maybe decrease the sale price to make sure they have enough money to start production right away.”

I raise my eyebrow at this tactic. “What should we ask for in lieu of the additional cash?”

“A share of their company? And maybe a percentage of the profits?”

Interesting. “What made you think of this?”

“You’ll laugh.”

“Try me.”

She scrunches up her nose. “When I was in high school, I wasn’t allowed to go out much, so I watched a lot of TV, including almost every episode of Shark Tank. It was fun to see the different approaches each of the sharks would take.”

“It’s a good tactic. We’ve done something similar in the past, but hadn’t considered it for this project,” I say, taking another drink of my now cold tea. My phone pings, and I see a text from Teague informing me of her plans to join us for dinner. “It might be a good fit. Why don’t we talk to Teague later?”

“I forgot you live there too. Sounds good,” she says, slipping her notebook and pen into her messenger bag. “Do you need anything else?”

For some reason, her comment hits hard, but I shake it off. She’s their mate, but I refuse to believe she’s mine. Maybe it’s time to search for a place of my own. The thought guts me, but I’m beginning to realize her blood is a temptation that could ruin our friendship.

“No, I don’t need anything,” I reply in a dismissive tone. “You can go.”

Her eyes flash with irritation, then drop to her laptop. “Thank you, Mr.?”

“De Rohan,” I grit out before I think better of it.

“Leandros de Rohan,” she murmurs, almost to herself.

Who told her?

“Andros,” I sharply insist, but it’s already too late. The edges of my vision darken, and the past crawls into the room.

Harsh memories of him whispering Leandros, or softly calling me Mr. de Rohan, depending on his mercurial moods, crash over me with the force only tainted memories can bring. My vision wavers as his sculpted aristocratic face appears along with the leather strap he favored. Leandros, my ungrateful pet….

I crush the cup in my hand, spilling tea all over my desk. Shards cut into the leather, piercing the scarred skin underneath. “Merde!” Pain past and present collide until I can barely distinguish one from the other.

Charli leans over, her neck exposed, to grab tea-stained papers and other items on my desk. Her blood fills my senses, and my hand darts out to grip her chin and tilt her head to the side.

“Say my preferred name,” I command her, running my nose from her ear down to the base of her neck.