During that hour before she had to meet Max Devlin, she planned
her strategy on how to gain the upper hand with him right away.
He may be the wizard of the northeast in public relations,
but she was no slouch herself. And he was in her territory
now. He'd learn very quickly that he'd be taking a supporting
role in their PR launch. If he had suggestions, she might listen.
Might. Then again, she might not. After all, it wasn't her
idea to bring him down here. And while she might have promised
Logan she'd work with Devlin, she didn't promise that she'd
work with him as an equal partner.
He'd soon discover who was the alpha dog in this relationship.
Besides, she'd have her family standing with her, so she had
nothing to fear.
Confident, she stepped out of her office and headed to the
conference room, intent on arriving early and grabbing a prominent
place at the table. After all, appearances were everything,
as was preparation.
She swung through the double wood doors and stopped short.
The room wasn't empty. A man was in there, his back to her
as he gazed out the tall windows behind the table. His dark
suit had to cost a fortune, and must have been custom made,
considering the way it hugged his body. His jet-black hair
waved over the white starched collar of his shirt. A bit too
long for what was considered professional, but damn if it wasn't
sexy as hell as it curled in tiny wisps against his tanned
neck.
He turned to her, and she grabbed for the back of the nearest
chair, her legs suddenly trembling. For some reason her limbs
wouldn't move.
She'd never had this kind of a reaction to a man before. Never.
Without speaking he approached her. He didn't smile either,
just walked toward her slowly, in a stealth-like, sexy way
that had her thinking things she shouldn't.
Thoughts like primal. Animal. Lust. Passion. Sex. Hot, sweaty,
incredible sex.
His eyes were breathtaking, a combination of green and gold
that melted together like an artists pallet. Lashes as dark
as his hair swept up along his brows. His nose was narrow,
his jaw square, his lips delectably full - the guy looked more
like one of today's hot movie stars than just a regular man.
That sensual mouth of his curved into a lethal smile, and she
forced herself to meet his eyes, all the while curious as to
why she had suddenly forgot rudimentary biological functions
- like breathing.
"Shannon Storm," he said, his voice as seductive
as his appearance. "I'm Max Devlin."
He extended his hand, but for an instant she was afraid to
make bodily contact with him, unsure if she could withhold
her magical reaction to this maelstrom stirring inside her.
As it was she felt unsteady, her entire world shaken. And all
she'd done was look at him.
The professional in her wouldn't stand
for any of this teenage girl drooling over a man. She held
out her hand and directed
her thoughts away from sex and onto business. "Max. Welcome
to The Rising Storm."
When he took her hand, her toes curled right inside her shoes.
She sucked in her lower lip and fought the panic assailing
her. Heat shot through every limb, every organ, settling somewhere
between her legs. She moistened instantly, her nipples hardening
and pressing against her thin, lacy bra.
Max's hand stilled. He closed his eyes for the briefest of
seconds, then inhaled sharply. When he opened his eyes, he
graced her with a smile so predatory it caused her pulse to
leap.
No. She did not have physical reactions like this. She was
losing control. When she tried to pull her hand away, he held
on, as if he sensed her reluctance.
Unfortunately, his heated grip on her only served to bring
forth the response she feared most. Irritation grew within
her, mixed with an unexplainable lust that permeated every
part of her body. Railing against this loss of control, she
let loose a little of the magic boiling inside her. The heavy
paneled doors blew open as a fierce wind blew through the conference
room, whipping her hair from its tight chignon and nearly propelling
her against his chest.
Fighting to control the magic, she gripped his hand and squeezed
with all her might, hoping her power would zap him with a shot
of electricity that would shoot him straight across the room.
No man had ever been able to stand up to the ferocity of the
elements once she unleashed them.
They stood surrounded by what could easily be classified as
hurricane force winds, and yet Max wasn't even struggling for
balance. His eyes had darkened, the green nearly obliterated
by the golden hue that seemed to glow. His grip held firm to
her, almost as if he had accepted her unspoken challenge to
back off and decided that he wasn't going to budge.
Why wasn't he shocked? Why wasn't he running for his life?
For God's sake, wind like this didn't occur within an office
complex. He was supposed to be afraid, or at least question
her as to what the hell was going on.
Instead, he held onto her as if they had engaged in a battle
of wills, and he was determined to come out the victor.
Over her dead body.
It would be inappropriate to present arcing lightning in the
Storm corporate offices, but she sure felt like blowing out
the floor-to-ceiling windows in the conference room right now.
How dare he provoke her this way?!
This first meeting wasn't going at all the way she had planned.
So much for gaining the upper hand.
hot within, Shannon Storm. He wonders if Shannon's
feelings are powerful enough to accept who - and what - he
is.
