Beckett’s secretary is at her desk. My research this past week revealed that he goes through secretaries like water in the desert. He insists on good-looking secretaries, then sleeps with them within a few months. The affairs are always brief but insanely hot, if the rumors are to be believed—then he gets a new secretary and starts the cycle all over again.
“Hi.” I smile at her as I walk up, trying to project my friendliest aura. It’s not her fault she’s working for the personification of Greed, or that she’ll eventually sleep with him. Or that I irrationally hate her for it. “I’m here for my two o’clock appointment?”
The woman stares at me for a moment as panic flits across her features, then looks down at her calendar. I’m not on there, of course, because I don’t actually have an appointment. “I’m sorry, you must have the wrong day. What’s your name?”
“Olivia… Pope.” My mouth snaps shut as soon as I say the word, and I barely resist the urge to bang my head against her desk. Come on, Trin! You couldn’t think of a single other name?
Fortunately, this woman must not’ve spent as many hours bingeing TV as I have, because she doesn’t bat an eye at the name I just gave her. Before she can speak, I rush on.
“I’m here from HDR,” I say with a smile. “Humane Dog Rescue? Mr. Davenport has been a generous donor in the past, and we’re hoping to start a new initiative with some prominent celebrity backers taking the spotlight to help us get more attention and funding. The head of our PR department thought that Mr. Davenport would be the perfect candidate given his past support of us so… here I am!”
I make a little ta-da gesture.
The woman looks like she got a bit lost during my long-winded explanation, but at my mention of Beckett having supported the organization before, she nods.
Clearly, she’s new enough to this job that she has no idea that’s a lie, but it works out well for me because she quickly gets up and leads me toward his office door.
“Of course. I’m so sorry your appointment wasn’t in our system. Right this way, please. He has another appointment at two-thirty, so I’m afraid you won’t have a lot of time.”
“That’s all right. Thanks.”
I grip my new briefcase tightly and follow quickly behind her. She gives me a polite smile, then pushes open the doors leading into Beckett’s massive office.
“Natalie, I thought I—” Beckett pauses as he turns, papers in hand, and sees that his secretary isn’t alone.
“Sir, Olivia Pope is here to see you,” Natalie says smoothly. “From Humane Dog Rescue?”
A tiny line appears between his brows as he takes me in, and I brace myself for him to order the woman to escort me right back out again—or to call security and have me hauled out.
But instead, he lifts a hand, dismissing his secretary with a small, sharp gesture. She slips from the room, closing the doors behind her as she goes and leaving me alone with Beckett.
For a brief moment, we just gaze at each other in silence.
I’ve never been at the receiving end of his attention before. Despite following him around for a week and literally living in the same penthouse as him, I’ve been invisible that whole time. He’s been just a few feet away from me on multiple occasions, but he’s never actually looked at me before. And now he’s definitely looking at me, those green eyes boring into me, and I feel like I’m pinned to the spot like a butterfly on a wall.
“Well, well.” Beckett cocks an eyebrow, his gaze trailing over my body. “What’s this about?”
I had a whole big speech prepared for this moment. I practiced it several times on the way over. Maybe it’s a bit of a stretch, but the one thing I’ve noticed about Beckett in the week I’ve been following him is that he seems to like dogs. All animals, really. He stopped on the street the other day to pet a Golden Retriever someone had tied up outside a coffee shop while they grabbed their latte inside—and it was the only time since I first encountered him that I’ve seen his features soften.
It’s not much, but it’s the only crack in his armor of self-involvement and avarice that I’ve been able to identify.
Anyway, I had a whole big pitch prepared about how this will benefit puppies in need, and how much of a difference he could make if he donates a portion of his profits to them.
But the words have all dried up. I can’t think of a single one. All I can do is stare at his thick, dark brows and his green eyes, his perfectly symmetrical features and his full lips.
He’s just so…
“…handsome,” I whisper before I can stop myself. It’s like my brain-to-mouth filter is completely broken. Oh no, is this a part of his ability as a sin? To get you to admit to the things you want, and to convince you to take them? To enable your greed?
“What was that?” he asks, stepping closer. It’s like I’m being stalked by a tiger.
“I said ‘handsome,’” I blurt out, then immediately clap my hand over my mouth.
Frick. If he didn’t hear me the first time, he definitely did the second time.
Maybe I can throw myself out the window and hit the ground hard enough to induce amnesia and forget this moment of humiliation entirely.
Beckett smirks. “That’s what I thought you said.”
He steps closer, and my body practically buzzes with the desire for him to do—something. I don’t even know what. For him to rip my shirt open and put his hands on me, his mouth on me—
“I’m here about an opportunity to do a lot of good for animals,” I say quickly, taking a few steps back, putting distance between us. Actually it’s more like I stumble back, because my body is frozen and awkward, and I’m currently useless. “I’m here on behalf of Humane Dog Rescue, and…”
“Ah.” Beckett’s whole demeanor changes, as if a cold front just swept through the room. “And here I was hoping that you would be here for an interesting reason.” He sighs. “Why on earth is a gorgeous woman like you wasting her time at an organization like that?”
I bristle a little. “You don’t even know what the organization does or how effective it is.”
“When it’s got a name like ‘Humane Dog Rescue,’ I’m pretty sure it’s a waste of your time.”
“And what wouldn’t be a waste of your time?” I press.
Darn it. I thought I had him with the puppies thing. Who the frick doesn’t like puppies? But I have to keep digging. Maybe if I can figure out an angle that he’ll find worthwhile, I can get him to back that instead.
Beckett smirks again and takes another step toward me. In fact, he keeps coming toward me until he’s only a foot away, his gaze searing my skin like a brand. “I like developing… intense and personal relationships with my contacts.”
“I-intense?” The words come out on a whisper.
Gah! What is wrong with me?
I’m not some fluttery, easily swayed human. I am an angel. I am a warrior for Heaven! I should—I should—
Beckett reaches out and uses his index finger to tuck a stray curl of dark hair away from my face, his finger trailing down my throat, right to where the collar of my blouse opens and the first button is done up.