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“I will ask the candidates about their openness to your suggestions.”
Fuck. She wanted to retreat behind a facade of business, as if their kiss hadn’t changed something. “Requirements. Not suggestions. Requirements. Be clear about that. If I’m to be saddled with a woman that I don’t want until death do us part, there will be none of the hysteria that my family members seem to thrive on. My wife will know her place and her role, and she will meet my expectations. And to be clear, she will ask for my kiss. Like you did.” He opened the door.
Jeanine was walking toward his office with a cup of coffee, and he waved her off.
Then, voice so soft that only Hope could hear, he finished. “You have a fourteen-page interview form. I will have something similar for the women you bring to me. It will cover things such as anal play, being shared with others, edging, exhibitionism. Shall I send it to you first?”
“Please do. It will save some time in your selection process.” She started past him, and he snagged her elbow.
“And Ms. Malloy? She’ll fucking address me as Sir.” He was unaccountably furious at her rejection. At himself. “And if you come here ever again, so will you.”
Her hand trembled where she grasped her purse strap. She flicked a glance at his hand before yanking her elbow free and continuing.
She paused at Jeanine’s desk to say goodbye. Why did that matter so much to him?
He should have snagged the cup of coffee and returned to his office to call his father, but Rafe continued to watch Hope. Each damnable step made her hips sway, and his still-hard cock throbbed in response.
At the door leading to the hallway, Hope paused, her hand on the knob. She glanced over her shoulder and met his gaze without blinking. He might have unsettled her, even shocked her. But he hadn’t scared her.
Round one to the beautiful matchmaker.
CHAPTER TWO
Hell and a handbasket. The world shifted beneath Hope’s feet. Who the fuck did he think he was? The Lord of Domination? And why had she responded with such abandon? As she strode down the marble hallway to the elevator, Hope forced herself to keep her chin high. It wasn’t until after she’d pushed the call button and made sure she was alone that she allowed her shoulders to collapse against the wall, right beneath the scripted silver letters bearing Rafe’s last name.
Celeste had warned that he was formidable and had coached Hope to be unflappable when dealing with him. Though she’d done a good job of presenting a cool exterior, nothing could have prepared her for meeting with the CFO of Sterling Worldwide.
He stood over six feet tall, was broad-shouldered and lean, showing he worked out as hard as he did everything else. As elegant as his suit had been, it hadn’t concealed the force of his primal nature.
He’d studied her in a way no other man ever had. His questions had been pointed as he’d probed for her deepest secrets. Even though she had wanted to protect herself, she hadn’t been able to look away from his threatening, turbulent deep-blue eyes.
The moment his mother and sister left the room, his danger had seared her. “She’ll wear a collar—my collar—and she will know she belongs to me.”
His voice had been cloaked in the most delicate silk, and his words had struck with a force that had left her speechless. They’d penetrated deep inside her brain, weaving an image until she pictured herself on her knees—waiting for his every command as he claimed what was his.
Any man speaking in such blunt, sexual terms would have triggered the same sort of feminine reaction from her. No. That was a lie. Every day, she spent time with rich, powerful men who had specific demands. Those words from anyone else would have left her cold. Rafe’s image left her hungry.
Sex had always been unremarkable. It was required once a relationship progressed to a certain point, but it was a chore.
In Rafe’s office, however, unfamiliar desire had crawled through her. He’d been right about her pheromones. She’d never been aroused like that. When he’d caressed her throat, his prediction that she would ask for his kiss had become inevitable.
His mouth had demanded, and his tongue had plundered. Then he’d moved one hand to the small of her back. In that terrifying moment, she would have knelt for him, and part of her had unraveled at the idea that he might redden her ass. Even now she couldn’t stop thinking about how his hand would feel on her naked buttocks. The wicked humiliation of it all…
