When I peered over David’s shoulder, Mr. St. Christian stood from his chair. He was an impressive man in stature, towering at least six feet, possibly taller. The stubble that covered his jaw was thicker than a few days ago but still as neatly maintained. His chiseled cheekbones looked as if someone had sculpted them into his face. He’d left the first few buttons of his dress shirt undone, revealing a tactful amount of his broad upper chest and the top of a tattoo.
“Please, come in.” He came around his desk to join us as David stepped out of my way.
As if on cue, the clouds that had blocked the sun when I arrived parted, allowing beams of light to stream through the stained-glass windows behind St. Christian. The brightness contrasted with his dark eyes, hair, and clothes, making him appear less intimidating.
“Ms. Whitmore,” he said. “I’m so glad you could come on such short notice. You don’t know how happy that makes me.”
“It surprised me you requested me. There are so many more qualified attorneys at the firm.” Could I sound any less confident? “Not that I can’t do the job, but your request caught me off guard.”
“I want you.”
I closed my eyes when a sense of familiarity dominated my thoughts. The room spun as I lost my footing.
I gazed into his sinful eyes in the reflection of the oval brass mirror that hung on the center of the wall. He stood behind me, his hands on my hips as he kissed the side of my neck.
“Why are you here?” I whispered in a low, needy tone.
“Shh.” He trailed his hands along my sides and to my breasts, cupping them in his firm grip. “All you need to know is I’m not going anywhere.”
“What do you want?”
“I want you.”
When my eyes snapped open, I looked around the study. I tried to shake the memory or the dream or whatever had just happened to me from my mind, but it was too late. My body trembled, and my legs weakened, causing me to lurch forward. Before I could stop myself, I collapsed into his strong, waiting arms.
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