Perfectly Imperfect(14)
I hear a shocked gasp from the doorway and spin around; my anger dies instantly when I see Kirby’s tear-streaked face. But where that anger was before, burning mortification has now replaced it. When I look behind Kirby, I see the pissed-off face of none other than Kane Masters himself.
Of course. That makes sense. Fantasy meeting nightmare.
“ARE YOU OKAY?” KANE ASKS, his eyes not leaving my father.
“Uh …” I stammer, my anger dying with the shock of seeing him here.
“Right.” He smiles slightly, his gaze colliding with mine, and I watch in fascination as his softens just a breath before looking over my shoulder and becoming a mask of anger. What is that about? He doesn’t lose the hard look of anger until he looks back at me. His eyes roamed over my face before moving down my body. I shift, uncomfortable, and pull my dress at the waist, hoping it isn’t sticking too tightly to my body. Those cerulean orbs narrow at my movement and only cause me to pull a little more. God, this is embarrassing. “Stop that,” he commands harshly, and I instantly drop my arms.
I hear my father clear his throat before addressing the witnesses to our heated fight. “Kane, you’ll have to forgive me. I thought our appointment was later today. Willow was just leaving.”
Dismissed.
Again.
By the man who I have called my father for my whole life. The only one I’ve ever known, even if he wasn’t the one who helped give me life. Instead, he’s always been the one who has resented the fact I existed. Hello, Daddy issues anyone?
Kirby moves into the room and clasps her hand in mine, giving my father a clear f-you by making her stance at my side known. I try to pull my hand from hers, knowing my father won’t hesitate to reprimand her for butting in. She digs her fingers in, grasping hold of my hand until the strength of her hold is bruising and her nails are biting in warning.
“Kirby, stop,” I plead.
“No. Not this time, Willow.”
I try, once again, to remove my hand, but she holds strong.
“Is this how you treat your own family, Dominic? I would hate to see how you treat someone outside that bond.”
My eyes widen as Kane speaks. His voice is strong and true as it rumbles around us like thunder. I watch in rapt fascination as he stands up to my father. For me. I haven’t had someone other than Eddie and Kirby go to bat for me in close to ten years. In fact, the only person I remember ever doing it before was my mother.
Why is he doing this? He doesn’t even know me.
My relief that he obviously didn’t hear everything is short-lived when my father speaks.
“I’m sorry you had to witness that, Kane. It’s unfortunate, but it seems like my stepdaughter needed a firm hand. You’ll understand one day when you have kids of your own. It’s necessary to be hard. Please sit. I’ll have Ivy set up the conference room.” He clears his throat before continuing. “Willow?”
I move my eyes from the detailed study of Kane’s body and glance over at my father. Maybe he’s changed his mind. Perhaps this was all just a daydream … yes, I’m sure it’s all a big misunderstanding. “Sir?”
“A word?” He walks around his desk and flicks his hand toward the doorway. I’m sure this is when he’s going to admit it was a big prank—admittedly, not funny in the least, but I’m sure there’s a reason. However, I’m not sure that would matter now that the verbal damage is done.
Kane doesn’t move as my father attempts to get through the door. Not surprisingly, he radiates a dominating presence that leaves no room for argument. He slips his gaze from mine to look down at where my father is standing in front of him before looking back just as quickly.
Not many people can look down at Dominic Logan. At six-foot-one, he’s always been one of the taller males who floats around the agency. Most of our male models sit somewhere around five-foot-ten; the females, though, most of them are right about level with him. Not Kane though. It’s hard to tell someone’s height from magazines, television, and movies, but Kane has to be pushing closer to six and a half feet.
His eyes are holding mine over the top of my father’s head, and I feel Kirby’s hand tighten. What is he doing?
“Oh, Kane, sweetheart! It’s been ages.” All four of us look into the outer sanctum as Ivy comes strutting back down the hall, her voice breaking the silence around us. I look over at my father to see a beaming smile in place before moving my gaze to Kane. His eyes are no longer on mine but assessing Ivy. Perfect. Freaking. Ivy.
Well, I’m certainly not going to stick around for this. I would prefer to keep the fantasy I’ve built around the image of Kane Masters on my pedestal of ‘the perfect man,’ and I know anything he might do right now would ruin that. Or actually, what Ivy might do, and his subsequent reaction to her.
I’ve yet to meet a man who could see Poison Ivy for the evil human being that she is. Kane will just be like the rest stuck in her spell.
“Come on, Kirb,” I whisper and tug her forward. I have to suck in to make it through the doorway Kane occupies, but no amount of air forced through my panicked lungs would make me a smaller person. Nope; instead, my large breasts rub against his chest, and I hold back a shiver with the friction of his touch. I cringe when I think about what he must think. Someone like Ivy would have no trouble slipping through. I turn to look at Kirby, avoiding his penetrating gaze at all costs, and my shoulders drop when I see her move past him with no trouble at all. Her slim build makes it easy to walk through the narrow opening provided with little effort.