The Dirty Virgin - Page 28

“Daddy?” I gasped. “What are you doing here?”

The hubbub started with my use of the word “Daddy.”

“What’s going on? You guys know each other?”

“You’re related? Hey, is there going to be collusive bidding? That’s not fair.”

I got up slowly from my seat and walked over to where Drake sat. He was like a king overseeing an empire. On his side of the room were loads of boxes, paralegals scurrying to and fro, junior bankers and lawyers ready to do his bidding. I felt downright unprepared with my team of three.

“Daddy,” I said slowly. “What’s going on? Why are you here?”

Drake stood up, unwilling to put on a show in front of these white-collar douches. “Let’s grab a conference room,” he rumbled, guiding me to a nearby break-out area.

As soon as the door shut behind him, he spun around to look at me. And I mean, really look. His eyes swept up and down my figure, taking in the sinuous curves, the clingy fabric, the way my breasts pushed out against the deep décolletage. I saw a gleam in his eye as his gaze lingered on my nipples, taking in the way they pushed out like pebbles, hardening beneath his gaze.

“Daddy,” I breathed. “Why are you here?” I asked again.

“Cleo,” he drawled lazily. “You know that I’m the head of a news conglomerate, that we purchase assets all the time. The better question to ask is why you’re here?”

I was about to blabber some nonsensical response, throw myself into his arms, but stopped myself just in time. After all, I wasn’t a naïve eighteen year-old anymore. I was a career girl, someone who made her own money, charted her own path. Nothing I did was illegal, so might as well own it.

“I’m a businesswoman now,” I said slowly, looking up at him. “I’m not who you think I am.”

And the man just chuckled low in his chest. God, he was so masculine, so tempting, so alpha, that I wanted to jump him right then and there, our past be damned.

But right, our past. A shaft of pain lanced through my heart again. We’d been together for two sweet weeks, sampling each other’s bodies, him taking my virginity. And he’d been seeing someone else on the side the whole time and gotten her pregnant, no less. God, the baby was probably three or four already, walking and talking and ready for pre-school. My heart crumpled at the thought.

So I shook my head hard, willing myself to clear my mind. Get it together Cleo! I scolded myself. Don’t turn into a bowl of mush just because you’re in front of Drake again. He’s a man, remember that, just a man.

I took a deep breath, squaring my shoulders and said coolly, “I’m here for Hustler, what else? What are you here for?”

The big man looked at me speculatively.

“I’m here for a lot of reasons,” he rumbled, his eyes never leaving my face, the ruby lips I’d outlined a particularly sultry shade of red. “The first is to figure out what this Hustler business is about …”

At that I interrupted.

“If you haven’t done your homework on the magazine, then it’s too late,” I said sharply. “We’re here to play, big boy. If you don’t know what the asset’s worth by now, you’re going down in flames.”

But the big man didn’t seem fazed. Instead he looked at me with amusement.

“Oh I know what it’s worth,” he said, his tone smooth, “I’m just wondering if the competition knows.”

And that made me pause because in my years running a business I’ve learned something, and that’s to trust your instincts. If someone like Drake intimates that he knows something that you don’t, then it’s best to listen closely.

“Why, what is it?” I asked, curious, my eyes piercing, intent on his words. Don’t look so interested! I scolded myself. He’s playing you! But I couldn’t help it. My breath was coming hard and fast, my chest heaving, my pulse beating at a million miles an hour … from more than just the negotiation.

And it was like Daddy knew, he could tell. He laughed lazily, chucking me under the chin.

“Baby girl, I’m only too happy to share business secrets with you,” he rumbled, “but not here. Let’s step outside for a moment.”

How dare he treat me like a child again, chucking me under the chin and acting condescending. I was so angry that I spit out my retort.

“No, tell me now!” I demanded, hands on my hips.

But that only made me seem more childish and I was immediately embarrassed. Not exactly the way to build an image of smooth, polished businesswoman.

But Drake wasn’t turned off at all. Instead, he merely put a big hand around my waist and guided me to the exit, opening the door to a dozen curious expressions, the guys trying not to look but unable to hide their interest.

Tags: Cassandra Dee Billionaire Romance
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