The_Color_of_Love_-_Radclyffe (Рэдклифф) - страница 123

Helping Derian learn the agency didn’t feel like work at all. She looked forward to every day, with their morning meetings, their after-lunch conferences, and the impromptu moments when Derian would drop by her office to ask her a question or discuss something that had come across her desk. Derian wasn’t trying to replace Henrietta, but she was learning what made Winfield’s tick. Unlike Donatella, Derian appreciated Henrietta’s vision, the heart of it all, and that mattered more than anything.

A black Town Car slid to the curb and Emily’s pulse soared. She was used to that reaction by now, since every time she saw Derian, exhilaration rushed through her. She loved simply looking at her, the way she moved with a graceful, confident stride, the way her brows drew down just a little when she was deep in thought, the lazy way she sometimes watched Emily that made Emily feel incredibly sensual.

Emily had only had a glimpse of her when Derian stepped from the car before she disappeared onto the stairs, but a second was enough to put her heart in her throat. For tonight’s formal event, Derian had chosen a dark suit with a classically tailored jacket and notched lapels, fitted trousers, and a pale gray silk shirt—sleek and elegant, like her.

Feeling only a teeny bit foolish, Emily waited next to the intercom for the buzzer. As soon as it sounded, she said, “I’ll be right down.”

“Let me come up,” Derian said. “I’m your escort, remember?”

Emily laughed. “I think I can manage the stairs.”

“No doubt, but a lady should be handed into her carriage in the proper fashion.”

“All right.” Still laughing, Emily released the inner door and, when the knock sounded, took a deep breath and told herself not to think, just to enjoy the night. She opened her door and Derian’s gaze swept over her.

“You look incredible.” Derian folded Emily’s hand in hers and kissed her knuckles. With her head still bent low, she murmured, “You take my breath away.”

“You make me feel amazing.”

Derian looked up, her eyes glinting. “I’ve been looking forward to this, and you are the reason.”

Smiling self-consciously, Emily grabbed her small clutch from the table by the door and stepped out, closing it behind her. “I happen to know the National Book Awards is not exactly high on your list of events to attend. But I really hope you enjoy it.”

Derian slid her hand behind Emily’s elbow and walked close beside her down the hall. “You’ll be there. How can I not enjoy it?”

“After the twentieth conversation about market trends and predictions of doom for the demise of the entire industry, you might change your mind.”