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Derek –myDerek– is sitting in this boardroom, and he doesn't look surprised to see me in the least.
As I feel myself flush scarlet all over under his powerful and unrelenting scrutiny, I'm mentally calling myself all kinds of names for not having listened more closely to my mom's chattering about Avalon and theMMBB Listin the last few days because now I know exactly who Derek is.
Derek fucking Anderson, ladies, and gents.
Ruthless corporate lawyer, CEO of Anderson & Associates, and recently appointed chairman of this foundation.
My heart is thumping madly in my chest, my hands are shaking, and I don't realize I'm moving until I feel my mother practically starting to drag me along.
Thank God not everybody is here yet, and the directors in the room are apparently too busypolitickingand drinking coffee and tea to notice me, or I would have made an awful first impression standing in the doorway like an idiot.
“What’s wrong?” my mother asks through the tense smile on her lips.
I clear my throat and force a little grin, fighting for control.
"No-nothing, Mom. I felt a little dizzy for a moment."
I see her eyebrows knit in concern. "Have a seat, sweetie. I'll bring you a glass of water."
I nod to her as I wordlessly drop on a chair. My heartbeat is deafening in my ears, and my eyes remain trained on her retreating form as she steps away.
I catch a fresh, woodsy scent of sandalwood enveloping me as a large hand grasps mine under the table.
I know that scent as I know the touch of these fingers on my skin.
I abruptly turn the other way and only then do I realize where my mom just guided me to sit. Right next to him.
Derek discreetly leans close to me until I feel his hot breath on the shell of my ear.
“Carina Preston, you do like to keep me waiting and leave me hanging, don’t you?”
His voice is rough and husky, and I feel it all the way down to my suddenly pulsing pussy.
My breath hitches as I feel his lips softly brush my ear.
“No more waiting for me, baby, and no more running for you.”
I gulp down a couple of times, desperately trying to find my voice. “And… and why is that, Derek?” I ask, attempting to sound more defiant than I feel.
He gives me a full-on smirk that practically turns my panties into a sticky puddle.
“Oh, you already know why, angel.”
CHAPTER8
Derek
Ifeel Carina’s hand start to tremble in mine as she valiantly fights for composure. Her features are trained not to display weakness, but I can see past the hauteur and straight into the jumble of emotions that she’s trying to keep hidden.
I'm pretty sure she's a woman used to putting up walls around herself and to protect herself and her interests behind a facade of bold and fearless gumption.
Her life has not been easy, and I’m pretty sure she has needed to display more strength and forbearance than she has probably felt in a long time.
How do I know?
I looked her up.
As a lawyer, that's what I do.
