“I won’t ever hurt you, Hadley.
I won’t.”
“I know.”
Destined for Me, an all-new emotional Come Back for Me/Say You’ll Stay Crossover novella from New York Times bestselling author Corinne Michaels is available now!
From New York Times Bestselling author Corinne Michaels comes an Arrowood-Hennington crossover next generation novella.
No one makes my blood boil like Cayden Hennington.
When I finished second in my class in law school, he finished first.
We interned at the same firm—he got hired while I didn’t.
Now we’re opposing counsel on my first big solo case, and I refuse to lose to him.
I will not think about the way his lips taste or how he makes my heart race. I won’t dream of that night we argued until our clothes came off.
That night is irrelevant because I am over him.
(I’m also lying to myself).
However, we’re both professionals, right?
Wrong.
One stupid drink is all it takes after six hours of intense negotiations to find myself right back in his arms and in a world of trouble.
There is a thin line between love and hate, and we are destined to choose a side.
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“It’s too bad my client had to walk away from your attempt at fixing the contract,” a deep voice that has taunted me for five years says from the edge of my office door.
Cayden. Fucking. Benson-Hennington.
The bane of my existence. It doesn’t matter that I am an associate at my law firm. That I have more billable hours than any other associates—and probably more than him—even though he was hired at the firm we both interned at while I was not. I swear, it’s his life’s mission to always be one step above me.
Not today, Satan.
“Well, your client is an idiot, and should take the deal I presented. Believe me, you won’t get a better chance to fix the mess you made. There won’t be another offer.”
His wide grin makes my stomach flip. “We’ll see.”
“Yes, I think we will. Was there something you needed?” He steps inside—uninvited I might add—and takes a seat. “By all means, make yourself comfortable.”
“Look, Hadley, we both know that your client was asking for way too many concessions. To have two seats on the board would give them controlling votes. Come on, you know that was an error.”
“Maybe so, but it wasn’t my error, it was yours.”
To be fair, it wasn’t really his error. Cayden took over this negotiation after his client used another firm who clearly botched the contract. Still, it’s his issue at the very least.
“No, but it is my mess and I plan to clean it up. By the end of this, my beautiful nightmare, you will be walking out with less than you came in with.”
He’s so arrogant, ugh, I want to kiss him. I mean punch him. Punch. Not kiss. No, no, been there and done that. Never again.
“So you want to rob these people of their entire life’s work?”
“I want my client to get what they deserve.”
I bet he does. This man has no soul. “Do you forget where you come from?” I ask.
Cayden grew up in Tennessee. His family owns a horse ranch that they have had for generations. Literally a blue collar, farming family.
The same as my clients. They were approached to sell their land, giving up their legacy, all so his client’s company can dismantle it and make it into a resort or a strip mall.
Therefore, I don’t think asking for something to help safeguard either of those from happening is a concession they shouldn’t ask for. It’s only fair that their children have at least a little left at the end of this.
“Of course, I know where I came from.”
“And if this were your parents, how would you advise them?”
He leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees. His green eyes fixed on me. “That’s where we differ, Arrowood…these aren’t my parents. They’re my clients and my goal is to get them everything they want.”
I get up and walk around the desk, resting my ass just on the edge. His gaze moves down to my legs and up, lingering a bit on my chest. I watch as a flicker of desire flashes across his face, and I wonder if he’s picturing me naked. Remembering that stupid night we spent together in college.
Lord knows I am—not. Nope, I’m not. I won’t. Because it was a mistake. Sure, I’ll go with that.
Good thing I have an incredible poker face.
“What are you thinking about?” his voice is low and husky.
You and me on the floor, ripping each other’s clothes off. Or the desk, that would be equally fine.
“I’m thinking about how arrogant and ridiculous you are. You came to my office to what?” I keep my tone even.
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