A Dominant Man (3 page)

He shoots me his award-winning smile.

Chase
is tall, well built, and an extremely pleasant looking man. His thick auburn hair, which always looks as if he just rolled out of bed, really sets the gold off in his topaz eyes. They are a stunning golden brown with flecks of yellow. He reminds me of autumn.

The girls go bonkers.

“You know it, hun,” I reply with a wink.

I scoot off to my desk and put my things away before grabbing the morning round of coffee for
Olivia.

“Good morning,
Olivia,” I greet her with an enthusiastic smile. She peers up at me from her mounting paperwork.

“Good morning, Gabrielle. Would you please fetch today’s schedule and material to take notes at the meeti
ng? I want an extra set of eyes and ears in there.”

“You want me to attend the merger?” I ask, stunned.

“Yes, I think it will be beneficial for you to experience. Give you a firsthand account on how to deal with these corporate types, especially, if you want to head a magazine one day.”

“Thank you,” I say enthusiastically. “I’ll go get the itinerary and prepare now.”

I quickly gather a pen, notepad, and recorder. I check my emails and phone messages to make sure there isn’t anything requiring my immediate attention.

A
fter making calls to advertisers, Olivia comes out of her office and glances at me to indicate it’s time. I scoop up my things and follow her out.

Olivia
is thirty-six, with fair skin, mid-back length chocolate hair, and rich blue eyes. She is an ex-model turned magazine Editor, so needless to say, she’s stunning and tall.

She looks impeccable in her
black sheath dress and red pumps. I’m glad I chose my pencil skirt and blue blouse. I want to represent her in the best possible light. If I want to move up in the company, I need to show her I can do it. This meeting is a perfect opportunity to prove I’m ready.

Marching down the hal
lway, I feel butterflies in my stomach and a knot in my throat, but I’m excited. I cannot help the Cheshire Cat grin spreading on my face. An assistant of Mr. Hunt informs us that they’re already in the meeting room.

“Thank you,”
Olivia responds.

She turns to me as we arrive to the door leading to the conference room.

“Now, listen. Mr. Hunt is immensely powerful and can be quite intimidating. Walk in there with your head up and shoulders back. Believe you belong and you will.”

She smiles at me, and it calms my nerves. I take a deep, relaxing breath, stand up straight, and begin my confident stride into the meeting room behind her. We are the last to converge.

I scan the room, studying all the suits, stopping on the most noteworthy at the head of the long, glass conference table. When my eyes fix on him, my stride falters as I realize Mr. Hunt is… Damian.

Meeting Mr. Hunt

M
y eyes are wide, and my mouth goes dry hanging open. His haunting, luminous emerald eyes find me, shock flashing through them for a second before returning to a possessive, omniscient gaze. His sexy, strong lips twitch into an almost hidden smirk, a secret just for me.

Oh, how I want those lips on mine, and not just the ones I use to communicate.

His eyes bore into mine, and I squirm, letting out a long breathy sigh. Thankful
ly, he’s at the other end of the room, where he cannot hear me.

I hear a throat clearing noise come from
Olivia, and I break our intense eye contact to find her gesturing to the seat next to her at the closest end of the table. I tow out the chair and bend to sit, but instead, I find myself tumbling to the floor.

The table appears to be growing taller
.

It takes me a moment to realize what just happened. When I do, he’s kneeling next to me, staring down with concern and something else I
cannot identify. It finally dawns on me, when I trace his gaze to my exposed lace stocking top and garter strap. My cleavage is peeking out of the blouse, due to two buttons that popped open, revealing my black lacy bra. I am mortified.

He offers me his hand,
which I graciously take, and firmly cradles it in his large palm, lugging me up. He waits until I am steady on my feet before he lets go, but I don’t want him to. I enjoy the currents rushing through me when he touches me, turning me on.

He turns his back to me, and
I’m confused as to why until I realize, he’s shielding me from view of unwanted, inquiring eyes. I put myself back together without their uncomfortable glances. I tug my skirt back down and button up my blouse.

When I finish, I say, “Thank you. I’m done.”

Hunt turns back to me, eyes ablaze.

“Are you alright?” he asks with a hint of a grin.

My face is burning from embarrassment. I could care less about what everyone else thinks, but I made a complete fool of myself in front of him.

“Yes, I’m fine.”

He notices the slight tone in my voice and laughs lazily. He strolls to my chair, which has glided across the room to the wall behind me, and pushes it back over, gesturing his hand for me to take a seat. I firmly plant my butt in the chair, and he rolls it in for me. I give him a nod and return my focus back to the large group of people gaping at us, taken aback.

I don’t see what the big deal is. He only helped me up.
But then again, maybe he wouldn’t have done that for anyone else in the room.

Damian strides back to his seat, standing there for a moment before addressing the room with confidence and authority. It’s an intriguing proposal
. He will purchase the magazine and keep everyone in his or her present positions.

“
Nothing will change,” he states, “Except one thing, I’m moving the magazine down to corporate.”

Olivia
chimes in, “That isn’t in the written proposal.”

“It’s a decision I recently came to. There are two floors available I want to utilize. I’ll see they’re set up with everything you need.”

“Well…I suppose it will be a smart move. Thank you for the accommodations.”

I wonder how recently he came to this decision. His eyes focus on me, letting me know I had something to do with it. The meeting g
oes smoothly after that. I steal quick glances every now and then, each time my eyes are met with Hunt’s unashamed, intense green gaze.

Oh god, green eyes, I love green eyes, his vivid green eyes
.

While the lawyers run through the contract, I find it extremely difficult to concentrate on the details,
not with this sexual, powerful, arrogant man voraciously boring his eyes into my profile, into me.

I cannot keep myself from breaking my attempt to ignore him and return his wanting gaze. The energy buzzes through me, flowing to my clit, making it pulse in anticipation.

Get it together, Hyde. You’re a professional. Oh, shit, not a professional, damn it! Get a grip on yourself.

I work hard on not gawking at him the rest of the time.

W
ith the contracts signed and hands shaken, people mingle about the room congratulating one another on their hard work and efforts. Damian would be lost in the sea of suits if he didn’t tower over most everyone in the room. He’s speaking with Olivia, obviously talking about the deal, when I decide to take my leave.

It’s
almost lunchtime. I’m starving and in desperate need of a mental break after the long, surprising morning.

My
hand is on the doorknob, almost free of his electric hold, when his husky voice softly growls out my name, “
Gabrielle
, I was genuinely hoping you would call me. I waited all weekend for your voice to be on the other end of my phone. My pulse quickened every time it rang.”

I spin around to meet his gorgeous emerald gaze.

“I don’t know why. I never said I would call.”

There’s a bit of bite to my voice, but my cocked head and crooked smile express my lighthearted teasing. His stiff body relaxes, and a sexy smirk graces his kissable lips.

“I was thinking you might dine with me for lunch.”

“I’m having lunch with a friend.”

“Well, now you’re having it with me. I’m sure they will understand. I know a great place around the corner from here.”

Before I can protest, he is opening the door and pulling me through it. I try to keep up with his large strides, but he drags me along most of the time. We fly past my desk, which has my things stowed away.

“My purse is in my desk.”

“You don’t need it. I’ll take care of everything.”

“But I don’t…”

He halts, releasing my hand reluctantly. “Ok. If you need your things, go get them.”

He sounds annoyed, but I ignore it and run back to my desk to grab my purse. I take a calming breath before returning to him. He’s on the phone looking powerful, confident, and delicious in his charcoal gray suit.

I hadn’t noticed we almost wore matching colors. Though, his tie is a softer shade of blue. I inform him of my plan to let
Chase know I wouldn’t be making it to lunch. Hunt’s immersed in a business call as he follows me to Chase’s office.

“Hey. I can’t make it to lunch. Someone came up.” I nod my head back at Hunt leaning against the doorframe watching
Chase, carefully assessing him. 

“That’s fine, kid
. I have a lot to do around here anyway. Let’s get a drink after work instead.”

“Great. I’ll check in when I get back.”

“Ok. Have fun.”

“Will do.”

Damian snatches my hand, and we continue out the building. Once on the street, we head to his waiting car, which sits right in front, the best parking spot, of course. His driver stands outside, opening the door for us.

I clamber in and scoot to the other side, giving Hunt room when he enters. I sit nervously flushed, watching him gracefully slide in and take his place next to me. He doesn’t grab my hand, even though I put it between us, giving him an opening. I love the feel of my hand in his, the
delicious tension building between us. I feel a pang of disappointment when he doesn’t take it.

We ride in silence to the mystery location. Hunt stares out his window with his chin in hand, running his forefinger along his lips. He appears tense as if something is weighing down on him mentally. I’m trembling beside him as my stomach twists and knots anxiously.

What do I say? Should I say anything or just sit here in silence?

“I’m pleased you walked into the meeting,” he says dryly.

“Yeah, you seem it,” I reply, just as dry.

“I am, but I know this is wrong.”

“What’s wrong?”

“This. You and I, us, together.”

“I wasn’t aware we were together. If it’s a problem, why invite me to go to lunch?” I ask, affronted.

“I thought I would never see you again, so when you walked in this morning you could imagine my surprise. I have an opportunity, and I plan to take it. I should keep my distance from you, but I find it difficult. You’re a good girl, and I don’t want to take advantage of your…respectabilities.”

His remarks baffle me.

“You need not be concerned with my respectabilities. I’m a grown ass woman, not a little girl, which means I take care of myself, make decisions about
my
virtues or lack thereof. I’m not
that
good, but I’m sure as shit confused…Why should you keep away?”

“I’m…I’m a wounded man, Gabrielle, and you
are
a good girl. I can see it in your eyes. If you’re smart, which I’m positive you are, you’ll stay away from me.”

I don’t know how to respond. I don’
t know him well enough to determine whether he is or isn’t a broken man. I stare out my window as his words echo in my head.

We arriv
e at a café called Aubrey’s Place, and his driver climbs out to open Hunt’s door. We exit and walk into the restaurant. I notice a French air to the place, like a café you might find on the streets of Paris.

Hunt doesn’t stop for the hostess. He brushes past her toward a table tucked away in the back. I think it odd, but he must know the owner. He pulls out my chair, and I take a seat, watching him gracefully descend onto the chair next to me, keeping distance between us.

“This place is lovely. How do you know about it?”

“I own it, and my sister
Aubrey runs it.”

“Oh. Tell her I quite like it.”

“I will. I’m sure she’ll appreciate the compliment.” He doesn’t scan the menu. I’m sure he knows every dish on it anyway, so I glance mine over. “There’s no need for that. I already know what you’ll have.”

Controlling bastard.

I put my menu back on the table and wait quietly for our waiter to approach us. When he does, Damian orders, but I don’t pay attention to what he selects for me. Instead, I admire our charming location and think about his warning in the car, wondering how this Adonis came to be wounded.

He is dominati
ng, but he doesn’t seem damaged. Perhaps he’s better at hiding it.

I gaze at him from under my lashes. He finishes the order and dismisses our server, clasping his hands on the table in front of him, co
nfidently sitting and observing the other lunchtime customers. I bore my eyes into him as he peers around in an effort to look anywhere except at me.

I wonder why he would invite me to lunch, only to advise me to stay away.

I squirm in my chair when the space between us charges and crackles with a delicious sexual energy that makes the air thick and hard to breathe.

“Gabrielle, could you please stop fidgeting. It’s quite difficult to focus,” he comments curtly.

I
sit up straight and take a sip of water, hydrating my parched throat
.

I wonder what he needs to focus on and why I distract him. I don’t get this guy. One second, he is shamelessly gawking and chasing me, and the next, warning me to stay away. It’s like watching a tennis match. I’m going to get whiplash
.
I need to understand what all this nonsense is about.

“If we’re wrong, why approach me at the club? Why ask me to lunch?” My voice shakes, betraying the air of confidence I attempt to exude. He has a self-satisfied smirk on his face, provoking the part of me that refuses to accept shit. No matter how delicious looking or wealthy you are.

What is this guy’s deal?

“I
should
stay away from you. I knew from the moment I saw you, you weren’t right for me. I told you at the bar, I was compelled to meet you. It didn’t seem I had a choice in the matter.”

He sits there nonchalantly as if this makes any sense whatsoever. I’m thoroughly perplexed, my ego bruised, and suddenly, I feel
compelled
to tell this arrogant ass he’s not worth my time.

“Are you psycho? Do you need your meds? Because you’re fucking crazy! One minute, you’re pleased to see me, and the next, I’m not right for you. Who doesn’t have a choice in what they do? I didn’t notice anyone holding a gun to your head…You
are
right about one thing. I should stay the hell away from you!”

I leap out of my chair, bound for the door. I almost reach it when he clasps onto my hand.
I turn back to remark, “Oh, now you want to hold my hand, but not when I put it out there for you to take.”

I glare up at him, my face a bright red. I yank my hand away and bolt out the door as fast as I can. I stomp down the street with my arms folded over my chest, like a cranky child, racing back to work in a hurry to mend my shattered ego. I don’t make it far before he is walking next to me, keeping up easily.

I’d like to see him try to keep up if he were the one in heels.
I ignore him while he silently strides alongside me.
What? Doesn’t this guy understand the concept of someone trying to run away?
I cannot take it anymore.