With a shaky hand I traced the dark wing of his eyebrow, down his beautiful nose and across his full etched lips. The work of art that I shared my life with . . . one I would never tire of, one I refused take for granted.
“I’m not sure if there’s such a thing, but if there is, the center of my world is our love, Blake. Every joy . . . everything beautiful in my life I have is because of our love.”
He closed his eyes, drawing me closer until our foreheads touched. He slowly lifted his, capturing me in a deep, soulful gaze. “You’ll always have it.”
BONUS SCENE
Go back to where it all started . . . Now we get a special chance to see exactly what Blake was thinking when Erica first walked into the Angelcom boardroom.
BLAKE
I leaned against the wall of the elevator and watched the numbers change as I approached the top floor of the Angelcom offices. I closed my eyes, wishing I had a few extra hours to keep them closed.
The doors opened with a ding, and, a few steps beyond, Greta sat behind the large reception desk that bore the Angelcom name and logo. A home away from home, this office was where some of my best ventures began.
Greta smiled warmly as I approached. “Good morning, Mr. Landon. The other investors are meeting in conference room B this morning.”
I nodded and checked my watch. I was already five minutes late. I enjoyed the smallest satisfaction knowing we were meeting with one of Max’s recruits today and my tardiness was no doubt pissing him off right now.
“You look tired. Can I get you anything?” Greta’s brows knit together.
“Thanks, I’m good.”
I shoved a hand through my hair. I’d been up half the night thwarting a cyber attack on a platform we’d launched only a few days ago. Whoever was targeting this one was goddamn persistent but ultimately unsuccessful in taking us offline. I took another sip of my jumbo iced coffee and made my way toward the conference room down the hall.
The other investors were in place already, seated around a large conference table that faced Boston’s skyline. I dropped into the empty seat next to Max and locked in on the beautiful blonde sitting across from me.
“This is Blake Landon,” Max said to her. “Blake, Erica Hathaway. She’s here to present on her fashion social network, Clozpin.”
“Clever name. You brought her in?” I asked without breaking my focus on her.
“Yes, we have a mutual friend at Harvard,” he replied. I nodded slowly. Prior to this meeting, I’d had the pleasure of a much more physical introduction to the girl, who looked all woman now in her suit and a soft teal blouse that played off her mesmerizing blue eyes. Eyes that I couldn’t tear my attention from now. Something in that moment of recognition made the long night and the rough morning fade into the background.
Erica Hathaway.
I licked my lips and watched her follow the movement with her eyes. A small flush worked its way across her chest and up to her cheeks. This was the second time in a row I delighted in her visible physical response to me.
The spark went both ways, and I almost cursed myself for not following through on my attraction to her. By the hazy look in her eyes when she’d stumbled and I’d caught her against me at the restaurant the other night, I could have asked her out for a drink, which could have turned into more. But Michael had been in town, and I couldn’t blow off dinner with him for a quick fuck.
At least now I had a second chance.
She fidgeted with her jacket, avoiding my stare, and stuttered into her presentation.
Meanwhile, I let myself dwell on all the ways the night could have ended. Then I redirected my wandering thoughts to the present and all the ways I could make good on those missed opportunities by spreading her out on the rather sturdy table separating us now. I ran my tongue along my lower lip, wondering what she might taste like. The memory of her body, warm under my palms, pressed tightly against me, just got a little more potent now.
I couldn’t help smirking every time we made eye contact and she hesitated over her words. She looked uncomfortable, definitely nervous. Not unusual for a first pitch, or any pitch for that matter. I should have wanted to make her feel more at ease, but all I could think about was how she’d respond under pressure. I interrupted her mid-sentence and hammered her with rapid-fire questions about her business model, which she answered with more grace than I’d expected.
So Erica wasn’t just a pretty girl. She was smart, and the fact that she’d made it to my boardroom meant she was determined too.
Satisfied, I waved her on to continue.
As Erica spoke, I debated which I wanted more—a slice of her business or the memory of her under me, screaming my name.