Chapter Three

Cade

I am excited, and that's new. I rarely get excited by anything, not even multimillion-dollar contracts or dates with the exotic women that sometimes grace my bed. But the thought of having Abigail Winston in my home has my veins thrumming with an unfamiliar thrill.

My private estate is just what the name implies: private. I don't hold parties there, and only people on a pre-approved list are allowed in. However, I don't feel any panic as I plan the details of Abbie's visit the night before.

I want everything to go perfectly. I keep shooting out instructions to Amber, some so ridiculous I can see her struggling not to roll her eyes at me, but I didn't care. I want to bring Abbie into my world so I can figure out what exactly about her drew me in. And I want to make my world perfect for her.

Who would have ever thought I'd be so comfortable with the idea of having a journalist in my home?

I plan to have a driver pick her up at her home and lead her to the company's rooftop where I'll fly her to my place in a helicopter. My estate is surrounded by a beautifully lush landscape, and I'm sure she'll love the view. I spend half of the night awake in my bed, imagining the look of pleasant surprise on her gorgeous face as I take her on a tour of the estate. I feel like a schoolboy with a first-time crush.

Unfortunately, my plan starts to fall apart from the beginning.

Amber catches me just before I leave. "Sir, did you read the email this morning about our new intern?"

"What email?" I ask hastily.

"The one from Dave. Apparently, he thinks the new girl might be an undercover journalist."

I groan. Our intern program is incredibly thorough, and we only select the best. I hate to think we could have let this happen. "Well, tell him to be sure. And if he is, then fire her. I'm not going to be scrutinized in my own company."

When I run out the door, I'm running late to meet Abbie. When I reach the roof, the helicopter has already landed.

Abbie does seem surprised at the sight of the helicopter, but not in the way I wanted. I watch her frown up at the roaring copter, then raise an eyebrow at me. Even in this chaotic moment, I can't help but notice how gorgeous she looks. She has on a pair of faded jeans and a simple white blouse, her long, glossy brown hair bellowing wildly in the wind created by the helicopter's blades, but she's still so beautiful. There's an undeniable grace in her simplicity, one that shines through irrespective of her mood or appearance.

"Shall we?" I say, extending a hand to help her into the helicopter, but she ignores it and opts to get in without any help.

I scoff lightly in disbelief, momentarily stunned by her dismissive attitude. I'm used to people being eager to please me, but Abbie is different. It seems like she's unfazed by my presence. I don't know how to feel about that.

I settle in beside her and instruct her to strap up while I do the same. She complies before rummaging through her purse and pulling out a pen and a notebook. Then she pops on her headset and looks at me expectantly. The helicopter hasn't even taken off yet, and she's already starting the interview.

Her indifference to the elaborate journey I planned for us both intrigues and frustrates me. I wish I could see beyond that painfully composed exterior of hers and know what's going on in her pretty head. She's so different from every other woman I've been with, and that makes her a puzzle to me… a difficult and exciting challenge.

"I thought we could start with a little bit of background information," she says, voice raised to be heard over the whirling propellers. "Your father acted as legal counsel to some of the most powerful businessmen in the world. Do you think that influenced your career?"

I adjust my headset with a chuckle. "Someone's all business."

She shrugs and offers me a polite smile. "I'm very passionate about my work. I take my job seriously."

"Very admirable of you. But do you really want to waste this view?"

She huffs, but when she turns to look out the window, she softens. "Oh," she gasps quietly, staring out past the glimmering city to the rolling hills beyond. The sun is low, painting the world pink and orange. But the sunset pales in comparison to the little smile on her face.

"Are you enjoying the scenery?" I ask.

"It's beautiful," she replies quietly. Despite the reluctance in her tone, I can feel her wonder.

"See?" I tease, nudging her knee with mine. "Isn't watching a romantic sunset with a handsome man much more fun than work?"

She looks at me then, her deep hazel eyes swirling with an unreadable expression. For a moment, I wonder what it'd be like to get lost in the magical depths of her eyes… I wonder what it'd be like to stare deeply into them while I make love to her.

She gives me a perfunctory smile. "But this is work."

I chuckle, amused by the determination in her eyes as says those words. It's like she's trying to convince herself that they're true.

I want her more with each passing second. I want her with a growing urgency, one that doesn't make any sense. But I find consolation in the fact that she feels the same way, even though she hasn't admitted it to herself just yet.

"Deny it all you want. There's something between us, Abbie," I say, smiling a little to soften the intensity of my words. "I know you can feel it too."

She purses her lips. "I'm still not sleeping with you, Mr. Kings."

Mary Collins, my housekeeper, is waiting on the helipad to greet us when we land, along with two other maids who work under her.

"Welcome, sir!" Mary says the moment she sees me, grinning from ear. Mary has been working with me for eight years, and despite trying to maintain a professional distance like I do with other staff, she's always treated me with warmth and affection. Secretly, I enjoy her fussing all over me, even though I try not to show it.

"Thank you, Mary," I say, returning her smile. Mary turns to greet Abbie, and I watch in surprise as her mask of businesslike aloofness dissolves into a genuine smile.

After pleasantries have been exchanged, we make our way to my house and I'm surprised to see Mary and the maids put on a bit of a show as they open the door to let us in. I try not to cringe as I watch them throw flower petals above and clap in unison as we walk down the long driveway that leads to the main house's entrance. They do everything but roll out a red carpet. Although I remember telling Mary to make Abbie's arrival special, from the unimpressed look on her face, I can tell that they're overdoing it.

Abbie turns to look at me with her eyebrows raised inquisitively, and I can almost see a hint of a smile on her full sensual lips. I know she's resisting the urge to roll her eyes at me, and the thought makes me smile.

"Just flower petals? No doves?" she says wryly. "You must not be trying very hard to seduce me after all, Mr. Kings."

I burst into laughter.

Okay, Abigail Winston is unlike any other woman, and I want her. Badly.

And I have only the weekend to convince her that she feels the same way.