“Mr. West, thank you for agreeing to see me,” she said in a slightly deeper voice than he remembered.
“Ms. Storms.” He strode out from behind his desk to greet her, extending his hand.
She slid her palm against his, her skin soft and silky, much like he imagined the rest of her would be.
Shit.
He needed to maintain control. Be in control. “I admit I was curious why you’d contact me after all these years,”
“Well, I…” She trailed off, obviously gathering her thoughts. She curled her hands around her clutch purse, showing more nerves than he thought she’d want him to see.
He took pity on her and gestured to the chairs across from his desk. “Have a seat,” he said and waited for her to settle in.
She crossed her legs at the ankles and waited. So prim and proper. Such a lady, which only made him want to see her messed up, from his hands in her hair, his mouth on hers.
He cupped the back of his neck, realizing he’d clearly underestimated her impact. Too bad he knew what lay beneath the cool façade. But he couldn’t tear his gaze from her trembling hands, a nervous gesture that didn’t jibe with the self-confident bitch he thought she’d be.
If she wasn’t ready to get to the point of this meeting, he was. “I take it you’re interested in me?” he asked.
Her cheeks flushed at his not-so-subtle innuendo. “Very,” she replied, not missing a beat, her lips lifting in an amused smile.
And in that second, they were thinking the same thing. He wanted to back her into the wall and kiss her senseless, and from the way her lips parted and a soft breath of air expelled from her lips, she felt the same. The chemistry between them was still strong.
She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Actually, I thought you might be interested in letting me do a piece about you for Take a Byte,” she said of her online tech magazine.
He nodded slowly. “I suspected as much. And the truth is, ever since the IPO and Kade’s stint on morning television, I’ve had pressure to do interviews and reveal more about myself. I’ve read your articles on Zuckerberg and Spiegel. You do your research and you’re a fair reporter,” he said.
She was a talented writer and interviewer. Their awkward past couldn’t diminish that fact.
Her eyes opened wide in surprise. “Thank you.”
“I’m just telling you the truth.”
Her cheeks flushed with pride. “I’ve worked hard to make us relevant again,” she murmured.
“And you’ve done a great job.”
“So you’ll let me interview you?” she asked, leaning forward in her seat, her blouse parting, revealing the enticing swell of her breasts.
His throat went dry. “Unfortunately, no. I don’t do interviews,” he said in a rough voice.
Instead of her shoulders deflating, she sat up straighter, her determination coming through. “I wish you’d reconsider. I can give it any slant you like. As far as the world is concerned, you’re an enigma. Any coverage will bring in readers.”
He shook his head. Derek was all about protecting his family, and refusing interviews accomplished that. He didn’t think Cassie would be any more interested in digging into his humble beginnings than he was in disclosing them. Not when it meant revealing that her parents had been his parents’ employers.
The story was ugly for both of them, as he assumed she knew, and he doubted she’d want her parents’ names dragged into the article by revisiting the past. And though he knew he could get her to focus on his successes, once she published her piece, it was only a matter of time before another journalist dug deeper and discovered more. His father had been through enough.
“I’m sorry but I can’t.”
She rose to her feet and met his gaze head on. “So why agree to see me? Did you want to humiliate me in exchange for what I did to you when we were younger?”
“What? No. That wasn’t it at all.”
Her shoulders rolled inward. “I wouldn’t blame you any more than I blame you for not wanting to do an interview with me … but there is something I want to say before I go.”
He raised an eyebrow and waited.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted out.
He shook his head, certain he’d heard wrong. “Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry for what I said all those years ago.” Her cheeks burned not with embarrassment but shame.
He saw the regret in her eyes, and he could not have been more surprised.
She twisted her hands anxiously in front of her. “I have no excuse except that I was young and susceptible to peer pressure. I didn’t mean what I said.”
“Didn’t you?” His voice came out harsher than he’d intended, and she flinched at his angry tone.
“What?” she asked.
“Didn’t you mean what you said? Or are you saying you would have been happy to take me home to your father?”
Her throat moved up and down. “No. He wouldn’t approve. But I never should have said as much in front of you. And you can believe me or not, but I am sorry. I’ve regretted that day for years.”
He softened toward her for the first time.
She shifted and picked her purse up from the floor by her chair. “I see now why the interview is a bad idea. Thank you for hearing me out.” She started for the door, her chin held high.
He reached out and grabbed her arm. “Cassie, wait,” he said, suddenly struggling between letting go of the anger toward the girl she’d been in the past and forgiving the woman she was now. That woman called to him on a primal, baser level. As a man, he wanted her.