Nigel rushed into the hotel room moments after my father took his last breath.
I was the calm one. Nigel was panicked, but he followed my directions, never questioning the whys. He just did what I asked. I’m sure back then, his loyalty was born from his bond with my father, but we’ve found a rhythm that works for us, or I thought we had.
After Nigel’s discussion with Juliet at lunch, I’m beginning to wonder how well I know him.
Once he’s seated in front of my desk, I cross my arms. “Did Ares know about the bird watching?”
Uncertainty stills his expression. His eyes widen. That’s a sure sign that Nigel’s having an internal debate.
I’ve seen it before, dozens of times, but that’s always been during a discussion about business.
“He introduced us to it.”
I stare at his face as those words sink in. “My father introduced you to bird watching?”
“He sent Golda and me on a honeymoon to Peru.” His gaze falls to his lap. “There was a park there that he had visited as a child. He bird watched with his own father during that trip.”
It’s almost too much to process at once.
Imagining my father in a park with a pair of binoculars strung around his neck is an image so outrageous that I can’t conjure it up.
“Back then, before you were born, he often spoke about how he’d take his children to that same park.”
That’s a blow because the only trips I took with my father were to destinations where he could expand his business holdings. That included jaunts to Europe, Australia, and cities all over the United States, including Miami on that fateful night.
“His business grew,” Nigel continues. “Personal trips fell to the wayside.”
Scrubbing a hand over the back of my neck, I let out a heavy exhale. “I didn’t know.”
“Ares was a different man after he found success.” His tone drops. “I often wished that things were…”
When his voice trails, I don’t push for more.
We sit in silence for a moment.
“Juliet is charming.” He taps a finger in the air. “Smart, insightful, and there’s her smile.”
There’s much more to her than that but I don’t go there, because Juliet Bardin is in my life for only one reason.
“Did you start the interview process today, sir?”
“She asked a few questions. I answered.”
“That is how interviews work.” He laughs.
Stoic, I look behind him to the doorway. Soon, I’ll choose a dinner menu that Nara will prepare.
I’m tempted to ask Nigel to join me, but I’ll be more comfortable with my own company tonight.
Today was jarring. It was unexpected.
Juliet Bardin has spun into my life like a whirlwind.
I need to find my bearings so that tomorrow, I can face the day with a clearer mind and focused intent to keep Juliet on topic.
“I brought pastries for everyone,” Juliet announces as she parades into the foyer of my penthouse dressed in white pants, a sheer black blouse, and red heels.
Jesus.
It’s a look that suits her, although the woman herself is stunning. An article of clothing doesn’t exist that could add anything to her beauty.
A sudden vision of what she must look like nude flashes through my mind.
I chase that away with a hard swallow.
“Do any of them have lemon filling?” Nigel asks as he peers into the now open pastry box.
“Of course.” Juliet glances at him. “Alcott told me lemon curd is your jam.”
Nigel tosses his head back in laughter. “I see what you did there. I prefer lemon curd on my toast as opposed to jam.”
What in the actual fuck is going on?
This is my home. It’s where I conduct business. It’s not a goddamn staff room where people can exchange recipes and sample each other’s pastries.
I have no idea if that is a thing, but Juliet Bardin is upending my routine in a way that I don’t want.
“Juliet,” I bark out her name.
That spins her around to face me. The black satin bra under her blouse is doing little to conceal the outline of her hardened nipples.
She pushes a strand of her hair back from her cheek. “Yes?”
I fist my hands at my sides in a desperate attempt to control what feels like need.
What the fuck do I need right now?
Peace and solace or her in my bed beneath me, taking each deep thrust of my…
“Mr. Bane would like to get started with the interview immediately,” Nigel lies. “It would be preferable if we wrapped it up for the day before six.”
I turn to him and silently quiz him with a lift of one eyebrow.
“I have dinner plans, sir,” he explains. “An old friend is in town.”
“I have dinner plans too,” Juliet chimes in. “With a new friend.”
That piques my interest enough that I momentarily forget that I’m pissed with the pastry escapades.
“Am I right to assume it’s with a gentleman?” Nigel asks.
“Slate,” she says quickly. “His name is Slate.”
“That’s edgy.” Nigel smiles at her. “You mentioned that he’s a new friend. Is this the all-important first date?”
Keeping her gaze trained on Nigel’s face, she nods. “We’re going to keep it casual. Jeans, T-shirts, maybe a burger, and then we’ll see where the night takes us.”
“Slate is a very lucky man.” Nigel shoots me a look, but I ignore him.
“We need to get started, Juliet.” I summon her with a curl of my finger.
She starts on her approach with the pastry box still in her hands.
I tilt my chin up. “Leave those on the table.”
She does just that but steals something soft and fluffy from the box before she turns to face me again. She takes a bite of it, and that’s immediately followed by a slow lick of her tongue over her bottom lip.
It’s carnal in a way I’m not expecting. The need it feeds within me is so fierce that I want to stalk toward her, grab her, and tug that plump lip between my teeth.
“I’m ready,” she announces before she takes a second bite.
I turn my back, not sure if I can handle another stroke of her tongue over her lip.
I’m hard from watching her eat.
I close my eyes, rub a hand over my forehead, and start in the direction of her office, hoping that by the time I face her again, my cock will have calmed the hell down.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Juliet
“We’re going to continue this tonight, Juliet.”
Since he’s not looking at me, I roll my eyes.
Why did I think that was going to happen?
Kavan Bane is clearly a man who demands attention and sucks all the fun out of the room with one big gulp.
I saw it this morning when I brought pastries for the staff.
I thought Nara deserved a treat since she works her fingers to the bone trying to please a man who didn’t even finish his sandwich at lunch today.
Who doesn’t eat all of a sandwich that contains prosciutto?
Lunch was my choice again.
I opted for the sandwich, a crostini slathered in roasted tomato puree for the appetizer, and then I insisted that we dine on the pastries I brought for dessert.