The Price Of Scandal(81)
“She’s staying in Bluewater,” I snapped. “Following me to meetings. Is she going to shadow me to the bathroom, too?”
“What are you afraid of?” he asked.
“Oh, boy,” Jane muttered behind me. “That was stupid.”
“I’m not afraid,” I spat the words out.
“This is how I’m going to get you your IPO, Emily. I’m sorry I didn’t explicitly explain what was happening. That was my mistake. A colossal one. But I’m not screwing you over. I’m saving you. So tell me what you’re afraid of?”
Of losing the last shred of privacy I had. Of stripping myself of my dignity and begging for approval. Of opening myself up to the judgment of one person who could influence thousands. And what if I came up short? The thoughts tumbled through my head like sopping wet clothes in a dryer. I loathed that he could read me well enough to see that it was fear behind the anger.
“I’m afraid of putting public opinion on the shoulders of one woman who’s already decided she doesn’t like me,” I snapped.
“You’re an incredible woman, Emily, and it’s time the rest of the world saw beyond that curated facade. This is your chance to show who you are.”
“Why didn’t you tell me, Derek?”
“I was a little distracted this weekend,” he said, sliding a hand around the back of his neck. “A lot distracted. And I forgot.”
Was that a line? A lie? Did he naturally spin everything? For all his talk of honesty and vulnerability, was he capable of practicing what he preached?
“And maybe I was a little terrified of how you’d react,” he admitted.
That at least rang true.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Truly. Deeply. I wanted to bring it up in the best way—”
“You wanted to manipulate me into saying yes,” I corrected him.
He paused and chose his words carefully. “I wanted to present the opportunity in the best light so you would see its merits.”
“And you forgot.”
It seemed almost involuntary how his eyes, blue and wary, skimmed over my body. Like a lover’s caress.
“I forgot. I allowed myself to be distracted by the gala and… everything else. I promise it won’t happen again.”
“D never forgets,” Rowena called helpfully from her workstation outside his door. “And since he did this time, we won’t let him again.”
People let me down. Always. Sooner or later, everyone would in some way or another. And I’d learned not to let them past my walls. Yet somehow, a man I’d known for only a few weeks, a man who had broken into my house to make a point, a man who’d stolen my father’s wallet, had scaled those walls. I was angry. But more at myself.
I knew better than this. I knew better than to put myself in vulnerable, uncontrollable situations. Had I learned nothing since I turned twenty-one?
“Tell me how to make this better,” Derek said earnestly. “Tell me how you want me to fix this, and I’ll do it.”
I wanted him to cancel the interview. To grovel. To leave me the hell alone.
“Give me space,” I said coolly. The words had frozen razor edges to them.
He winced. The ice queen claimed another victim. Finally.
“Stop,” he said when I turned to leave. He caught me by the arm and spun me around. “Jane, give us a moment and close the door.”
Jane waited for my nod before sauntering out of the office and shutting the door behind her.
“Emily,” Derek said.
I remained silent. The withdrawal of affection and attention was often more powerful than a temper tantrum.
“Don’t you dare freeze me out,” he said, frustration lacing his tone. His grip tightened on me.
“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do. I gave you your chance. You disappointed me. Lesson learned.”
“You’re a stubborn idiot if you think that I’m going to let that be the end of this. Of us.” His voice was low, controlled.
No one in my entire life had ever called me an idiot. Stubborn, yes. Cold, of course. Difficult, “that bitch,” whore, holier-than-thou princess. But never an idiot. Never stupid.
Forgetting my favored offense, I let my temper win. I shoved him in the chest. “What did you call me?”
“There you are.” He had a gleam in his eye. That gleam.
“Stop looking at me like that,” I snapped. He didn’t have the right to look at me like that. Not anymore.
“I forgot. It was a stupid mistake. I don’t make stupid mistakes. Ever. But you—”
“Of course you’re going to blame me,” I scoffed.
“Emily, how in the hell am I supposed to keep anything in my head when all I can see is you under me, coming on my cock, calling my name?”
He wasn’t being flippant. Derek Price was being deadly serious.
“Speaking of mistakes,” I said blithely.
He looked like he was going to murder me. Those glacial eyes burned with an icy heat. “Don’t you dare use what we shared this weekend against me,” he warned.
I glared back at him.
“Emily, I wanted to tell you in the right way to minimize this. And then I forgot.”
“Oh, you forgot. How does it just fall out of your head that you signed me up for something you knew would piss me off? Three days, Derek. A stranger following my every move for three days!”