Page 4 of All We Want

He turns as I enter, and I am glad for the carefully constructed mask that I wear most of the time. Declan Blackstone is standing in my office.

Declan fucking Blackstone.

He should not be in my office.

He should not even know of my existence.

I continue walking to my desk and place my laptop and notepad on the surface. Moving in his direction, I smile at him and secretly hope that he cannot see the way I’m trying to swallow past the lump in my throat at his presence in my office.

It's not just because I stole highly classified files that were worth a lot of money, it’s also because Susannah was right, the man is hot.

His black wavy hair comes down to his shoulders, curling around his neck. Dark lashes make his clear green eyes stand out like a cat's. High cheekbones and full lips give him an air of confidence, and the subtle stubble on his chiseled jawline adds a touch of ruggedness. A perfectly tailored suit hugs his frame, emphasizing a physique that suggests both strength and control.

I approach him, maintaining a composed exterior despite the internal chaos. "Good evening, I’m Scarlette Monroe. I’m sorry I seem to have misplaced my notes on this meeting, how can Monroe Security help you?" I inquire, my tone professional as I hold my hand out toward him.

He offers a charming smile, and I can't help but feel a slight twinge of nervousness. His warm hand slides into mine and takes a firm grip. He doesn’t shake it, only holds it. "Ms Monroe, I’m Declan Blackstone," he says, his voice smooth and commanding with a hint of an Irish accent. "I jus’ recently read about ya impressive company and skills. And I’m hopin’ ya could be of assistance to me.”

Both his hand, his smooth voice and smile are heating parts of me that definitely shouldn't be reacting to him. This is not good.

Quickly extracting my hand, I motion toward the sitting area where Susannah has placed his coffee. He motions that I go ahead of him in response, and I turn toward the sitting area. His intense green eyes haven’t left me since I entered the room and my heart is racing.

The little sitting area in my office had three chairs surrounding a small table, so there is no chance of putting a whole chair between us. Taking a seat, I cross my legs and almost instantly regret it when my dress creeps up my thigh, which is normally hidden under my meeting tables and desks.

His eyes flick to the exposed skin. I spread my hand down my knee in an attempt to shift the material.

Hoping to distract him, I continue. “So, how can we be of assistance, Mr. Blackstone? I’m aware of your company, and I can’t imagine you would need assistance from a company like mine.”

He hums as his eyes return to mine. “Well it recently came to me attention that our internal security seems to be lackin’.”

Fuck. Me. This was not going to end well.

He obviously knew I breached his Christmas party, but did he know I had stolen his files? He couldn’t possibly know that, I was meticulous in making sure the cameras didn’t capture me in their penthouse.

The tension in the room is palpable as Declan Blackstone leans back, his gaze penetrates through the carefully crafted facade I maintain. He seems to be studying me, a knowing glint in his eyes that sends shivers down my spine. I can't help but wonder how much he truly knows.

Internal security issues, he claims. It could be a ruse, or he might genuinely be oblivious to my extracurricular activities. Regardless, I need to tread carefully.

"I see," I respond, feigning surprise. "Internal security is a delicate matter, Mr. Blackstone. It requires a thorough investigation and precise solutions. If you could provide more details, we can determine the best course of action."

He leans forward, his eyes never leaving mine. The intensity in his gaze makes it clear that he's not a man easily fooled. I can feel the weight of his scrutiny and the heat radiating from his body that is now even closer to mine.

My heart races even faster, and I grip the edge of my seat, careful not to let my anxiety show.

He smirks, the corner of his lips lifting ever so slightly, as though he can tell exactly how he is affecting me. "I've heard good things abou’ your company, Ms. Monroe, but I'm also interested in the person behind the company. That be why I suggest meetin’ outside the confines of a typical business settin’. The Christmas Charity Ball tomorrow night, to be precise."

I raise an eyebrow, trying to maintain my composure. "A charity ball is an interesting choice for a meeting."

He chuckles, the smooth sound like velvet across my skin. "I find dat people reveal more about themselves in relaxed environments. Besides, tis for a good cause. I wanted ta see if we connect as people first before we delve into business matters."

Before I can respond, Declan leans even closer, his fingers lightly brushing against the exposed skin of my leg. My breath catches, and my lips part in surprise. The touch sends a jolt through me, and for a moment, all professional pretenses fade away. His eyes lock onto mine, a sly smile playing on his lips.

“Wear somethin’ red tomorrow night," he murmurs, his voice a seductive whisper. "It suits ya better.”

I blink in surprise, caught off guard by the suggestion. He holds my gaze for a moment longer, his expression unreadable, before gracefully standing up. The proximity is broken, and I can feel the absence of his presence like a sudden cool breeze.

"Until tomorrow night, Ms. Monroe," he says, his tone reverting to its previous businesslike demeanor. With a nod, he heads towards the door, leaving me with a racing heart and the lingering warmth of his touch still resonating on my skin.

The dress I was currently wearing was green. He definitely saw me at his party.

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