What the heck had she been thinking?
She hadn’t been thinking. In close proximity to the handsome billionaire, she’d lost every single piece of her mind. She would have agreed to anything with the way he’d been looking at her. Ugh. This was a nightmare.
“This way, please.”
She fell into step beside Gerald, totally lost in thought as he led Skye through the foyer, past a desk that seemed to float in the middle of the space behind which a very beautiful blonde sat, and towards a set of double doors.
At the doors, he knocked once then stepped back, indicating that she should go inside. When Skye hesitated, he nodded again. “He’s waiting for you.”
As though there was little doubt then that she must comply.
“Right.” She toyed with her fingers at her sides, anxiety washing through her. But she’d agreed to this. She’d promised him, and Skye wasn’t about to back out. At least, not yet.
Sucking in a deep breath, she turned the doorknob and pushed the door inwards to reveal a large space. More than an office, this was like an apartment. While it had a desk near the window, and a boardroom table across the carpet, there were also leather lounges and a treadmill, a large flat-screen TV hung on the wall and a grand piano filled up the space to her right.
“Wow.” She muttered, taking another step in, her eyes landing now on the only moving object in the room: Matthieu. He was at his desk, head bent over some papers he was reading, but when Skye stepped into the room and cleared her throat, he glanced up, piercing her with those fascinating eyes, interrogating her silently, so she froze to the spot, her pulse in overdrive. Every instinct was telling her to run. She was way out of her depth; so much so, she feared she might drown. But she’d promised him. She couldn’t walk away from that.
“Skye.” The door clicked closed behind her and Skye startled: not because the door had been loud but because she was so on edge. “You’re here.”
“Yep. In the flesh.” It was just an expression but Matthieu seemed to take it as an invitation to confirm that she was in fact a part of her flesh. His eyes slid downwards quickly, skimming the soft Marino wool jumper that hugged her curves like a second skin, then lower to the fitted trousers, all the way to her feet, before his casual inspection continued upwards, pausing this time at the gentle swell of her hips and the more generous swell of her breasts. When his eyes finally returned to meet hers, Skye was breathless and hot all over.
“Come in,” his voice, when he spoke, was deeper than she remembered; and was she imagining the throaty tone to it?
“I am in.”
“Further.” His smile was a flicker, his voice held a command. Heat spooled in the pit of her belly then flickered through her limbs. She was weakened. Her knees were like jelly.
“Come into my web, said the spider to the fly?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Just an expression.” She cleared her throat then forced her feet to move, dragging her across the carpet, deeper into this luxurious, and overtly masculine, den. Every single cell in her body reverberated with awareness. She dug her fingernails into her palms, trying to avoid showing how affected she was by him. That was definitely not why she was here, and it was something she’d have to inure herself to, if this was going to happen.
If? Hadn’t she just been thinking that she’d given him her word?
“How was your trip?”
“Fine.” Her own voice sounded dry and crackly. She swallowed, trying to smile naturally even when she could no longer remember what that looked like.
“Good. I’ve got some papers here.” He waved to a set of documents on his desk and curiosity drove her further forward. A quick glance showed a cleverly-worded contract. There was no explicit reference to their agreement, but rather a contract for work, with her payment specified in both dollar amounts and ‘performance related bonuses’, which she took to mean the engagement ring.
“Does your lawyer know the truth?”
“No. Nobody does.”
She arched her brows. “They must have had questions when you asked them to draft this?”
“He knew better than to ask, then.”
A small smile curved her lips. In Champagne, their relationship had felt natural and spontaneous, but here in his enormous tower with Matthieu in a made-for-his-body suit, surrounded by the signs of his wealth and success, everything was different. Except for the amusement he could elicit. She found him funny, and she liked that. She liked smiling and laughing. She liked hearing him laugh.
“Was this really necessary?”
“It’s protection.”
“From me?”
“For you.”