Bane marched out of the room then.
I watched him leave, admiring the cut of his shirt and the way his ass looked in his pants. He had ditched the suit jacket again this morning after I questioned him about a subsidiary of Bane Enterprises that is facing legal action.
I dug that little nugget out of a lawsuit registry in Arizona.
I thought if I threw something negative at him, he’d volley with something positive.
That was an epic fail.
He spent the better part of an hour schooling me on the legal reach of a suit like that and how it doesn’t impact Bane Enterprises’ bottom line in the least.
I listened intently while staring at him because he really is that good-looking, especially unshaven.
“I have a date,” I say because I have no idea if he was paying attention when I was spilling the details to Nigel this morning in the foyer.
“Is it as important as this?”
Um…yes.
I keep that to myself and smile. “I think we should regroup and start fresh in the morning.”
It’s a solid statement, considering the fact that I spent much of today waiting to speak to him.
He sliced out that hour this morning for my law lesson and then almost an hour at lunch before he staged the pastry protest and stomped out of the room.
The only other time I spoke to him was a brief fifteen minutes late this afternoon when he caught me flipping through the magazines on his coffee table.
Unsurprisingly, they all featured articles that mentioned Bane Enterprises.
Not one of them contained information that isn’t readily available online.
I was sure that he’d dismiss me early again today, but that didn’t happen.
It’s now nearing seven, and I was hoping to head home to change into something less sheer for my first date with Slate.
“I think we should have dinner together and discuss the future of Bane Enterprises.”
I search for a comeback, but before I can pull something out of the blue, his phone rings.
I close my eyes briefly, praying that it’s a business catastrophe that demands his immediate attention. The plus to that is tomorrow he can fill me in on the details so I can add it to my article.
“Harrison,” he bites out as he answers the phone.
His gaze runs over my face as he listens to whoever is on the other end of the call.
“Tonight?” he asks with a heavy sigh. “You’re sure it has to be tonight, Harry?”
I silently thank Harry (whoever he is) for whatever he’s currently saying to Kavan because it sounds like my almost canceled date is back on.
“I’ll meet you at Sérénité in thirty minutes.” He lowers his voice. “The private dining room.”
I watch as he turns his back to me. “It’ll be all right, Harry.”
Reassurance coming from the lips of Kavan Bane?
Maybe I should ditch my date and book a table at Sérénité for a good old-fashioned journalist seek and find mission.
I’ll seek out this Harry person and find out why Bane is nice to him.
The problem is that Sérénité is a fancy French restaurant on Tenth Avenue with no reservations for the next six months.
Margot tried to book us a table there last month. The host who answered the call practically laughed at her when she said she wanted a table for two that night.
Kavan ends the call without so much as a ‘goodbye’ or ‘see you soon, Harry’.
When he turns back to face me, the stoic expression is back on his face. “We’ll have to continue this tomorrow, Juliet.”
“We will,” I assure him with a nod of my chin.
He turns on his heel. “Alcott will arrange for Drew to take you home.”
“I hope everything is okay,” I say quietly.
That spins him back around. “What was that?”
I look down before I settle my gaze on his face. “I hope that whoever Harry is, that he’s all right.”
He takes measured steps toward me until the toes of his shoes almost brush against mine. “That call wasn’t your concern, Juliet.”
I tilt my chin up. “I didn’t say it was, Kavan. I couldn’t help but overhear, and it sounded as though the person you were speaking to needed you. All I said was that I hope they’re all right.”
“You don’t have to do this.”
I let out a chuckle. “Do what?”
“Worry about other people. Care about what they’re feeling.” His jaw tenses. “It’s clear that you’ve never suffered in life. You believe that there is kindness in everybody. You think a goodwill gesture can make everything right again.”
I chuckle. “I don’t see anything wrong with focusing on the positive and helping whoever I can.”
“The world is an ugly place.” He glares at me. “You were witness to that the night you were mugged.”
I stand in place, toe-to-toe with him, never breaking our gaze.
“This date you’re about to go on will disappoint you, Juliet.”
I shake my head. “Don’t talk about my date.”
“You’re expecting him to sweep you off your feet.” His hand hovers just over the center of my chest. “Do you think he’ll be the one who will steal your heart, protect it, honor it?”
I don’t give him the satisfaction of a response.
“Do yourself a favor and skip it.”
“Why would I do that?”
“It’s a waste of your time.”
“It’s not,” I argue, out of principle, not out of a desire to defend Slate.
“When was the last time a man satisfied you, Juliet?” His eyes flare wide.
Confused, I push. “What do you mean? Are you asking me when was the last time a man satisfied me emotionally or in bed?”
He laughs. It’s curt and edged with a cruel note. “Emotionally, Juliet? Let’s be brutally honest here. That’s not what you’re looking for, is it? You want to be satisfied in bed. You want a man who understands every nuance of your movements. You crave a man who hears the echoes of your desires in your moans and your screams. You want a man who knows how to fuck.”
Stunned, I stare into his eyes. “Kavan.”
“Juliet.” My name slides off his lips, wrapped in a groan. “Slate won’t fuck you like that. You know that he won’t.”
My hand itches to slap him, but I hold back. “I’m going on my date.”
I turn to leave, determined to walk out of this penthouse with my head held high.
I don’t know how we ran so far off course so fast, but I do know that hearing Kavan Bane talking about fucking has set my body on fire.
I have to shake this off.
I need to come back here tomorrow focused on my objective. I’ll gather the research I need to write an article so I can go back to the life I had before I met Mr. Bane.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Kavan
“Surprise!”
It’s just as it sounds. Three male voices all yelling one annoying-as-fuck word at me as soon as I walk into the private dining room at Sérénité.
I was lured here under false pretenses.
I glare at the man responsible for that.