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“Why?”
“I’ll never let myself down.”
Silence filled the room then he let out a soft humph. “Makes sense.”
“No more personal questions.”
“You’ve given me information I could easily find online. I need more depth.”
“I thought this was a puff piece.”
His eyes narrowed. “I don’t write simple puff pieces. I writecomplexpuff pieces. And to make this piece complex, I need to see you.You,Skylar. The glints of your true character that lie beneath the poised surface you offer. What is it that makes you reach out to a stranger on a subway? That’s what makes a piece like this worthy of reading.”
Another pause, then he set down his glass and leaned forward. “Another question— have you experienced everything you wanted to in life? Reached your dreams? Accomplished everything you’ve wanted to accomplish?”
She looked up at Julian and watched his eyes travel down her neck, down past her clavicle, down to the dip of her dress, where it caught the swell of her breasts. The question sounded like an interview question for his article, but the way he undressed her with his eyes was far from professional. She resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably in her chair.
“My dream is to become the president of Embrette Investments.”
He gave her a wry grin. “Not much of a dream.”
“What do you mean?”
“Dreams are those things that feel fantastical, but that can happen. A ski vacation in the Alps. Swimming in the Aegean Sea. Riding the entirety of the Orient Express. Having children. Hiking the Pacific Coast Trail. Finding the love of your life. Being a company president sounds more like an accomplishment than a dream.”
She huffed. “Fine. So I haven’t yetaccomplishedwhat I want toaccomplish. As for dreams . . . ” A quick shrug. “Those are private. They have nothing to do with the charity or my work there.”
“Got it,” he answered mildly, jotting down a note. “And experiences? Have you experienced everything you want to experience in life?”
Skylar swallowed. Could he know? Why she was there at the Masquerade Party that night? Why Rex had paid such an exorbitant amount for her to be with an escort?
Settle, Skylar. Settle.
There was no way Julian could know why she and Rex were at that mansion that night. She hadn’t said anything to Julian about being unable to come. He was just pushing at her, trying to see how she’d react.
“Again, I don’t see how this question relates to the agreed-upon terms of the interview,” she said primly.
Julian’s eyes flashed dangerously. “You deserve to get what you want, Skylar.”
She swallowed against a mouth that had suddenly gone dry. They’d swayed into forbidden territory. Skylar knew what he was referring to—sex. Pleasure. Arousal. Passion. Climax.
Run, Skylar. Run.
She stood, ready to dash out of the room, but Julian was faster. He moved like a cat. A panther. A mountain lion. A jaguar. One moment he was sitting at the table with his notebook, and the next moment he was standing in front of her, his body so close she could feel his heat, see his heartbeat pulsing in his throat, and smell his scent that permeated her nostrils. She moaned.
“Stay,” he said.
His voice was quiet. Firm but gentle. And although he’d only spoken one word, it was how he said it that moved her. She leaned into him, hip to hip, breath to breath.
I should leave.
“Stay.”
“Yes,” she whispered, and unthinkingly, she closed her eyes.
She expected him to kiss her then, to let her taste him. Instead, something soft and wispy stroked her lips. Her neck. The swell of her breasts.
Her eyes flicked open to see Julian towering over her, the black feather in his hand.
