Falling for Fate (13 page)

Thank God he was finishing talking. His eyes found Gwen’s as she stood. He nodded at her and she returned his greeting with warm smile. He glanced to her right and his mouth went dry. His heart stuttered and he had to grip the mahogany table to keep himself sitting.

Eyes he knew to be a stormy shade of sea green avoided him as she made her way to the front of the room. Her walk was the one he knew so well, the one he dreamt of.

Jesus.

So she did work for him. He loosened his tie so he wouldn’t choke to death in front of everyone.

“Ladies and gentlemen, most of you are familiar with our two newest marketing team members, Gwen Scott and Fate Buchanan,” Collin began. But Dean’s ears were filled with the sound of ocean waves rolling in his head.

Fate Buchanan.
It was her. The woman he’d made love to before she’d vanished into thin air. Because that was it—that was what made her different, what he could pinpoint for Keaton when his obsession with finding her had become the topic of conversation. Dean fucked women. If he was falling off the earth drunk, he sat back and let women fuck him. But this woman, this woman had been vulnerable and beautiful and alluring in a way that compelled him to take his time. When he’d realized what she was giving him—her virginity—he’d focused all of his attention on her needs, something he’d never done before. When she’d been adjusting to the intrusion of his cock and needed him to be gentle and when her walls had gripped and clenched him and she’d needed it harder. She was the only woman in the world who could said Dean Maxwell had made love to her. And here she was.

He wanted to shout her name into the heavens now that he finally knew it.

“Thank you, Mr. Pierson.” Her beautiful voice was clear, strong. She no longer carried that wounded downtrodden hurt that had plagued her that night on the beach.

Dean didn’t miss the pleasure on the Collin Pierson’s face when she spoke. Dean took a drink of the bottle of water in front of him, wincing as the plastic complained loudly in his death grip. Her gaze flickered to him, but she smiled tightly and looked away. She recognized him too, then. Good.

“As many of you know, the marketing department is not only responsible for figuring out how to best project Maxwell Medical’s image to the public, but also for implementing the necessary changes needed to do so.”

God, she was beautiful.

She went on about the benefits of reducing the number of services they outsourced and bringing them in-house. He heard Gwen’s voice as she began to detail the cost-benefit analysis of advertising they were doing so, but Dean had left the room. Well, his mind had. In his mind, Fate Buchanan was writhing underneath him, warm and pliant in his strong hands. Her whimpered moans were so loud that they reverberated around the room in surround sound.

“You okay, son?” his dad leaned over and whispered.

He nodded without taking his eyes from her. She wouldn’t even look at him. Probably for the best. His dick was throbbing enough as it was.

“Thank you all for your time. We look forward to working with each and every one of you to ensure the success of Maxwell Medical. As our soon-to-be CFO mentioned, this company is on a path of excellence that we’re committed to as well. Thank you.” Gwen stared at him as she spoke.

He could feel her waiting for his acknowledgement. But he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the woman he wanted more than air. The fantasies he’d thought had died when she’d disappeared back in June were alive and well.

An elbow shoved hard into his ribs startled him back to the present.

“What the—” he whispered at Keaton.

“She’ll be able to file sexual harassment charges if you don’t stop eye-fucking her,” Keaton whispered back.

He nodded his understanding and used every ounce of self-control he had to look away from her as she took her seat. His dad said some stuff—he had no fucking clue what—but everyone began gathering their things and standing to leave.

He grabbed his bottle of water to take another drink, but the damn thing was empty. She passed by as he stood, her knee-length, gray dress hugging her firm curves as she walked. The pearls she wore fell just low enough to draw his attention to the swells of her breasts. He knew exactly how well they fit in his hands. And his mouth. His eyes wandered down her smooth legs to the black stilettos she had on. She was the perfect combination of professional and please-come-fuck-me.

A few people stopped to shake hands and welcome him to the team. He tried his best to engage and say thank you. He had to get the hell out of there before anyone took notice of his raging erection. Or more importantly, before he grabbed the newest member of the marketing team and fucked her on the conference table for everyone to see.

He’d spent three months fantasizing about making her scream his name. Seeing her again, even after a whole summer had passed, had those fantasies begging him to make them a reality.

“W
as it me, or was our new CFO picturing you naked during our entire presentation?”

Fate grabbed her friend’s arm as they headed into the bullpen area they shared with four other marketing assistants. “Shh. Lower your voice.”

It was bad enough that this was actually happening. Having to explain it to her roommate—the only friend she’d made so far in New York—was going to make it even worse.

Super-slutty slut here screwed a random guy on the beach who happens to be our new boss. Surprise!

She was already planning to do an online search of all the other companies in the area who might be hiring as soon as humanly possible.

Gwen leaned in closer. “He was, wasn’t he? I told you that dress would be hot on you.”

Fate tried to gather her thoughts and breathe normally. “It’s more complicated than that.”

He’d been wearing a suit that probably cost as much as her apartment, but she kept picturing him pulling a black, fitted T-shirt over his head and baring that tan, muscular body of his. She happened to know that he had an intricate tattoo covering his left bicep and shoulder. Something about possessing that knowledge in a room full of unsuspecting people made the area between her thighs damp. Or maybe it was that he had been, in fact, staring at her like that same area was about to be his next meal.

“Complicated is my specialty.”

Truth be told, if she didn’t tell someone, she was going to explode from the combination of shock and pent-up lust that seeing him had unleashed. “Can you take an early lunch? We can go to that Italian sandwich shop across the street.”

“DeLuca’s or Angelo’s?”

Fate threw her hands up and almost sent the folder she was holding flying. “Whichever.” She huffed out a breath and tried to regain her sanity.

Seeing that man again, the one who’d given her a kind of pleasure she didn’t even have words to describe, had her nerves all jangled. And for the love of everything holy, did he not know the meaning of the word discreet? He’d just let his unwavering stare burn right through her clothes for everyone to see.

Gwen laughed. “Screw lunch. I have a few emails to reply to, a fax to send, and then we’re getting the hell out of here. Call it brunch. I have to know what has you so riled up.”

“Fine. See you in fifteen.” She plopped down in her desk as Gwen made her way to hers.

She figured she was probably about to get fired anyways. Taking an early lunch without permission was the least of her problems.

“I’
ll have a pastrami on rye,” Gwen told the cashier at DeLuca’s Italian Eatery.

Fate ordered a salad, knowing good and well there was no way she could eat. She couldn’t really afford it either, but she needed something to do with her hands during what was sure to be a painfully humiliating conversation.

Once they’d gotten their food, they slid into a booth by the window.

“All right, spill it. I’m dying here.” Her roommate was practically bouncing up and down in her seat.

Fate took a deep breath and long drink of her tea. She purposely remained silent, trying to piece together the best way to explain how she knew Dean Maxwell, before his father had introduced him that was.

Gwen looked ready to shake it out of her. “You’re kidding me right now, right?”

No, the damn universe was kidding. Or just plain cruel. So far, it was looking like the latter.

“So, um, about what happened with Trevor…” She ran a hand through her hair and tried not to let herself warp back in time.

“Yeah, yeah. Fiancé was a dick and was ‘blowing off steam’ inside your best friend. Got that part.” Gwen shook her head. “And you walked in on them at the rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding. I gotta say, if it were me, they’d be dead and we’d be having this conversation through plate glass.”

She laughed despite the old ache the memory conjured. Except that the ache was missing this time.
Odd.

“Yeah, um, all of that happened. But there’s slightly more to it. Afterwards, I ran out. Just took off down the beach and away from…everything.” She glanced around to make sure no one they worked with was within hearing range. “It’s just, I didn’t have much, you know? Everything I had, I had because of Trevor. His family was my family. My mom had…issues. Walking away from him literally meant walking away from everything. From my whole life.”

Gwen nodded and gave her the universal head tilt of sympathy. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“No.” Fate shook her head. “That’s not what I meant. I just want to explain where my head was at because I’m afraid what I’m about to tell you will make you think bad of me.”

“Think bad of you? Did you murder someone? ‘Cause, again, if you did, I’d understand.”

The memory of that night was slamming around inside her, demanding to be released. “Not exactly. I did, however, take off running and then fling a four-hundred-dollar pair of heels into the ocean. At which point I prayed for the universe to send me a sign. Something, anything. I just needed to know my life wasn’t over, you know?”

Gwen nodded, and in her eyes was the warmth of understanding. So Fate continued.

“The universe sent me the hottest guy I’d ever seen. And I don’t just mean in real life. I mean ever.” She shook her head at the impossibility of it. “He’d seen me running by his beach house and was worried I shouldn’t be out there alone at night. He just kept asking what he could do for me, how he could help me.” She bit her lip and took the plunge. “I was a virgin.” She whispered
virgin
as if it were a bad word. “I was saving myself for Trevor. Who had been screwing my best friend all along. So when the most beautiful creature in existence asked me what he could do to make me feel better…I told him.”

“Told him what?” her roommate practically shouted. Apparently, she was as deep into the story as Fate herself.

“Shh.” She lowered her voice and leaned across the table so Gwen could still hear. “I told him to…you know. And he did. And no matter how much I’ve tried to put the experience behind me, it’s all I’ve been able to think about since.” She’d heard people say that they felt like a weight had been lifted, but getting that out there felt like handing over two heaping-ton boulders.

Gwen’s eyes widened in shock. She began to giggle and clamped her hand over her mouth. “Oh my holy hell. And here I was thinking you were such a prude!”

“He was just in the right place at the wrong time. Or vice versa. Or, God. I don’t know. I still don’t know what came over me.”