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She bares her teeth in a mockery of a smile. “My pleasure, Mr. Kane.”
My lips tighten for a moment, then I chuckle. I’m not done with her, and now, after this encounter, I know without a doubt I’m going to enjoy every moment of…how had she put it…disrupting her life. With one last smile at her, I follow Deirdre out of the room.
CHAPTER6
CORA
Iwant to scream.
I watch him walk away, his long, graceful stride carrying him out of my sight. I’m shaking, off balance. I want him gone, out of my life, far away, back to the darkness where I’ve relegated him for the past five years.
A darkness from which he only emerged in my dreams, to haunt me, tease me, and bring my fantasies to life.
Does my touch make you want things you shouldn’t?
I bite back a growl of pure frustration. What does he want? Why is he here? Does he need to prove to himself that he can still throw me off balance just by coming here, talking to me, touching me?
Why now?
For five years, we haven’t had a single personal communication. I accepted that I’d been consigned to his past. I accepted that he didn’t want to remember. I accepted that publicly and privately, it was as if I’d never been a part of his life.
I even decided it was for the best.
And now, he shows up, without warning?
My cheek burns where his finger grazed me. My body is raging with an unbidden, uninvited arousal, as if my frustration, anger, and loathing are somehow feeding the physical need to drag Tristan down into that fire with me, to crash and burn through the old pains, old betrayals, old lust.
Jesus.
My phone rings. It’s Tana again. Instead of taking the call, I hurry to the nearest elevator, almost desperate for the comfortable familiarity of my office.
Whatever Tristan’s business here, I hope it’s concluded swiftly so I never have to see him again.
But somehow, like a premonition, I know that will not be the case.
* * *
My office is small,with bright cream walls and a glass partition separating my working space from the smaller outer office where Tana sits at her desk, typing on her phone.
She looks up when I enter and bounces up from her chair. “You’re back! I spoke to Deirdre. She’s setting up another time for you and Peter to meet. I hope it’s not gonna be one of those short five-minute meetings because after postponing this morning without notice, he should give you more time to make your case to him. Maybe I should call and demand half an hour at least…”
I hold up one hand to stop her. “No, it’s fine. I’m sure I’ll have enough time.”
She follows me into my office, pausing at the door while I walk over to my desk. A window spanning the entire width of the room offers me a view of a century old beaux-art apartment building across the street. The light-gray walls of the building are decorated with lovely moldings and trim, and elegant cast-iron railings surround the numerous balconies. It’s old and beautiful, solid, calm, and rooted.
Unlike me.
I’m the opposite of solid, calm, and rooted. I’m a tiny inflatable raft buffeted by a raging sea.
Tristan.
What does he want?
“Can I ask…what’s he like?”
With a startled frown, I turn back to Tana. My mind is still preoccupied with Tristan, so I have no idea what she’s talking about. “What’s who like?”
“Tristan Kane!” She makes an excited sound halfway between a whistle and a scream. “Deirdre mentioned Peter’s meeting with him, and that you were showing him around one of the galleries on the lower floors.” She sighs dreamily. “He’s so hot. I’ve watched clips of his interviews, and I’m not into tech, and half the time I have no idea what he’s talking about, but I can listen to him for hours.”
