Page 4

DOMINIC

I ended the last meeting ten minutes late, cutting off Graham mid-sentence with a quick, “We’ll circle back. Have Marcy send me the projections.”

He nodded, already halfway to the door. I didn’t wait.

I grabbed my tablet, adjusted my cufflinks, and headed down the hall.

The conference suite on the ninth floor was booked solid today, but this particular session—strategic PR planning—was the only one that mattered to me.

Not because of the merger. Because of her.

Vanessa Roarke was already seated when I arrived, tapping at her phone, perfectly composed in a navy suit and red-soled heels. Graham trailed in behind me a second later and dropped into the seat on my right, muttering about overcaffeinated interns. I ignored him.

She wasn’t here yet.

Good. It gave me a second to get my bearings.

I didn’t want to admit how hard it was to concentrate lately. Since she walked back into my orbit, things I thought I’d buried came rushing to the surface. Memory had its own gravity. So did guilt. And desire.

Vanessa glanced at her watch, then exchanged a look with Graham.

The meeting should have started five minutes ago, but Savannah still hadn’t shown.

Vanessa clicked her pen twice and set it down with a sharp, deliberate sound.

Graham leaned back in his chair and let out a slow breath, clearly growing impatient.

Then the door opened.

Savannah walked in without apology. Her expression was calm, unreadable, as if the entire room didn’t shift just by having her in it.

She wore a dark green blouse and black slacks, her hair pulled back in a way that exposed the full line of her jaw in a way that made me drool. She didn’t look at me.

She greeted the room with a polite smile, then slid into a chair across the table, already unzipping her tablet case, and set her tablet on the table.

She glanced once at Vanessa, then spoke, clear and clipped.

“If we’re focusing on regional brand exposure, the launch window needs to align with Fashion Week scheduling.

Otherwise, we risk missing international coverage entirely. ”

Vanessa gave a tight nod. Graham made a noise like he agreed but hadn’t fully followed.

“Good,” I said, breaking the tension. “Then let’s talk about messaging pillars.

And what happens if the press digs.” I liked her spunk, the way she took control.

Rhodes did a great job aligning her bold, take-charge attitude to this position, though she could’ve given me the space to start the meeting, which was officially underway.

She was confident and polished, sharper than half the men in the company who had been in this game twice as long. She spoke with certainty, never faltering.

God help me, I couldn’t look away.

Not just because of what we were. Or what we used to be. But because, in a room full of noise, she was the only voice I wanted to hear.

Savannah continued walking them through the brand timing calendar, citing European release dates and aligning them with projected quarterly buzz metrics.

Graham asked a question about audience tiering, and she answered before I could jump in with a decisive answer.

Vanessa offered a few notes about influencer engagement and staggered rollouts, but Savannah had already anticipated those angles.

She pulled up a sample asset schedule on her tablet and passed it across to Graham, who blinked at the clarity.

“You built this yourself?” he asked.

“Late this morning,” she said, not even pretending to downplay it.

Vanessa glanced at me, clearly impressed. I gave a slow nod but said nothing. Watching Savannah command the space without asking permission did something to my chest I didn’t like. Or maybe I liked it too much.

We reviewed projected messaging tiers, updated brand partnership proposals, and handled the looming press leaks like a grenade already midair. She never lost focus. Not when Graham fumbled a detail. Not when Vanessa pushed her on optics. Not even when I leaned in with a question meant to test her.

She didn’t flinch. Just pushed her tablet aside, folded her hands, and told me, “We already planned for that. Check the second page.”

And I did.

Ten minutes later, I dismissed Vanessa and Graham, because from the beginning, this meeting had been planned as a means to get her alone.

As the door shut behind them the atmosphere shifted, enough to notice—like a pressure shift before a storm. Savannah didn’t look up right away. She straightened a page on the table, maybe just to keep her hands busy. I let the moment stretch.

“Why are you here?” I asked.

Her eyes flicked up. “You just dismissed your team. You sure you want to go off-script?”

“I’m not talking about the meeting. I’m talking about you. Seattle. This company.” I turned my hand outward in a gesture then relaxed, and she watched it. Her eyes traveled up my arm to my face, and she held my gaze. And for a second, I thought she might shut down completely but she didn’t.

“You already know why. Knight Holdings wants access to European fashion distribution. Raven & Rhodes needs financial muscle. We’re trying to marry legacy with scale, and the press is watching for signs of failure.”

“No, really…” I leaned forward, clasped my hands together over the table and stared at her long and hard.

She didn’t drop her gaze. “You want the real answer? I’m here because I needed the job. And because I’m good at this. That’s it.”

“Christ…” I kept my tone level, but the word rolled off my tongue before a chuckle. “You could’ve landed a job anywhere. You chose this. You chose here. Why?”

She crossed her arms. “Because Raven & Rhodes has reach. Because I wanted a fresh start. Because I’d been gone from the industry too long and Raven & Rhodes took a chance on me when no one else would.

I didn’t know anything about your involvement until I walked into that conference room yesterday.

” She emphasized the word your and it made me shrink back.

“So I’m a liability now?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

She didn’t blink. “You’re not exactly the people’s billionaire.”

I laughed, and to my surprise, it came out real. “Is that what you think? You’ll humanize me?”

“Part of it.” She sat back slightly. “The rest is survival. I have responsibilities.”

The edge in her voice said that was all I’d get from her today. But I wasn’t ready for this conversation to be over with. We hadn’t even gotten to the real questions I wanted to ask.

“You know what I remember most about that night?” I asked, softer now.

Savannah’s eyes turned away quickly, but I saw the flush of her lips as blood rushed to them, filling them. She sucked in a breath causing her chest to rise and fall, and I continued.

“You didn’t flinch when I touched you—not once. You ate right out of my hands, just like now.”

Her jaw tightened. “That was a long time ago.”

“I haven’t forgotten any of it.”

She stood abruptly. “We should wrap this up.”

“You sure you don’t want to go off-script again?”

She didn’t respond. Just started packing up her things with more focus than necessary.

I stood and walked around the table with a measured pace. She noticed the shift in my shadow before she looked up, and when she did, her fingers froze on the tablet case. Her throat worked as she swallowed, her gaze flicking to the door, then back to me.

“You’re still terrible at lying,” I said quietly. “And even worse at hiding when you want something.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not doing this.” Savannah was so tense I could pluck her like a guitar string and make her sing, just like my dick—hard in my pants and bursting at the seams to have her.

“Not doing what? Standing there pretending you don’t feel this?”

She straightened up. Her breathing was quick, but she didn’t move away when I stepped in closer. “Dominic?—”

“Say it.”

“It’s not?—”

I reached up and tucked a loose strand of her dark hair behind her ear. She inhaled sharply. Her body was tense, but she didn’t step back. Her cheeks were flushed, lips parted.

“Tell me to stop. I will.”

She didn’t speak.

I leaned in, slow enough to give her every chance to push me away.

Her head moved, just a fraction. Not back—up.

She tipped her lips up closer to mine, and her eyes bounced down to where mine parted, then rose to meet my gaze again.

She gave a soft shake of her head—no.

I kissed her.

And God help us both, she kissed me back.

The kiss was hungry, insistent, as if years of pent-up desire had been unleashed in an instant.

It was as if we had never been apart, our mouths molding together in a dance we knew by heart.

Her hands, which had been balled into fists at her sides, now found their way around my neck, drawing me closer.

The table that’d been between us no longer seemed like a barrier but an invitation as I pressed her against it, hiking up her skirt as I lifted her to its edge.

“Tell me you want this,” I growled against her neck, my lips leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses along her jawline.

“Yes,” she gasped out between ragged breaths. “I want this.”

The air was electric, my pulse racing. My hands groped her thick curves and hers tightened into fists in my hair.

In a heated rush, I slid her panties down her thighs, breaking the kiss only long enough to yank them off her ankles and stuff them in my pocket.

I didn’t miss the flash of hunger in her eyes as she watched me devour every inch of her exposed skin, or the way her chest rose and fell with each ragged breath she took.

This woman, who just minutes ago had been composed and unflappable, now sat before me, teetering on my mercy and desire. I loved it.

I gripped her hips, pushing her up on the table so she didn’t slide off. “Wrap your legs around my waist,” I growled against her ear, my need for her consuming every thought in my head. Before she did, I unzipped my pants and wrestled my hard dick out through the fly.