The Intern: Enemies To Lovers

4



She laughed.

She didn’t find that funny.

She just didn’t know how to react when my stare was so fiercely connected to hers.

“Of course I have. I’ve followed your career since I started law school-even before that, if I’m being honest. You’ve built quite a name for yourself, Mr. Shaw.”

“Declan.”

“Declan,” she repeated.

A voice that wasn’t light.

That wasn’t raspy.

More like … breathless.

“What else did you learn from your research?”

She glanced up at me through her dark lashes. “You have this ability to mesmerize people on the stand. You’re like a magician. I’m positive you can’t escape the water tank you’re submerged in, where you’re wrapped in a straitjacket and tied to a chair, running out of air and drowning.” She glanced down at her drink but didn’t raise it. “Yet you do escape.” Her eyelids narrowed as she looked at me again. “That’s more than talent. That’s something you’re born with.”

If I were a magician, I would already have her panties off, my dick deep inside her pussy.

I was going to do everything in my power to make that happen at some point tonight.

But right now, I was just a confident, charismatic man who knew how to make a woman wet without even touching her.

“The skill that makes me a successful litigator, I believe, is my ability to see the truth in people’s eyes. I don’t need my witnesses to respond most of the time. I can see their thoughts, I can sense their fabrications, and I know when they’re being honest or misleading. The same way I can see what you’re thinking right now.”

She sucked in a long, deep breath, tilting her body fully toward me. “And what’s that … Declan?”

Her chest opened as her shoulders pushed back.

Her legs spread as she widened her stance.

Check-fucking-mate.

I ducked my head, getting close to her ear. Her perfume took ahold of me, and as I exhaled, my air hitting her neck, goose bumps spread across her skin. “I think we both know the answer to that.”

TWO

HANNAH

DThis is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

eclan Shaw

, I thought to myself as I watched him walk to the table of students. Followed by, Oh God, that man.

He had quite a reputation.

If you attended USC law school, you’d heard of him. Every professor spoke about him at some point during their lecture. They raved about his success. They gushed over his achievements.

There wasn’t a single litigator in the state who wanted to go to trial against him.

Because when Declan stepped into a courtroom, he won.

Therefore, I wasn’t surprised that women dropped their panties the moment he approached.

When I’d only seen him on paper and in photos, I had been positive that had to do with his accomplishments. He had more millions than he knew what to do with and a face that could model eyewear.

Of course, women couldn’t resist him.

Now that I’d been in his presence, that his eyes had gazed down my body, that I’d been lost in his words, I knew it went far deeper than just his finances and power.

He was the hottest man I’d ever laid eyes on.

When you mixed his charm and charisma with his ability to look right through you, the way he heated you with his stare and melted you with his voice, the combination was lethal.

And I felt it.

All the way down to my toes.

I’d struggled to find a response to his questions, to hide the way he was affecting me.

To mask how attractive I found him.

But he had seen the truth in my eyes-that I found his dusting of scruff so deliciously sexy. That his square jaw and perfect set of lips, strong nose and green eyes were some sort of magnetic sorcery. Not to mention, the man was at least six-three, appeared to be solid muscle, and with him in that black suit and red tie, my brain was conjuring up the naughtiest thoughts.

Thoughts that shouldn’t have entered my mind.

Thoughts that were so uncharacteristic of me.

Thoughts that kept me frozen at the bar, watching him speak to the other students.

He even made conversation look easy.

Smooth.

He laughed when it was warranted, his focus never leaving the speaker, listening, processing, responding appropriately.

His attention was like a stage, where he placed you in the center with a spotlight over your head and a microphone in your hand.

You could feel his eyes inside your bones.

And that was what happened the second his stare shifted over to me, his tongue swiping his bottom lip as he took me in.

“Why don’t you tell us what your plan is, Hannah?”

My plan?

Only feet away, but I hadn’t been listening.

I’d been too lost in a fog of Declan.

But I needed to rein myself in before I made a fool of myself.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” I said as I walked toward the table, my feet airy, my body tingly as I sat in the only open seat.

One that was directly across from him.

“Your plan for after you graduate,” he said. “I’ve heard their aspirations.” He pointed around the table. “Why don’t you tell me yours?”

I swallowed, finding my breath. “I’ll be prepping for the bar. I’m taking it twelve weeks after I graduate.”

“And then?”

I held my drink with both hands, taking a quick sip. “I’m going straight to work.” The vodka burned the back of my throat, the olive juice causing my tongue to pucker. “Assuming I land myself a job.”

The chances of that were likely.

Mostly due to my last name being famous in the legal world and that my cousins, aunt, and uncle owned the largest, most successful law firm in the state.

But I wasn’t going to mention that or that I knew he was friends with my cousins.

There was absolutely no need to.

Besides, I didn’t want him to think, due to my family ties, I was a shoo-in.

Because that wasn’t true.

My family had made it clear to me and Camden-my twin brother who attended law school in New York-that we needed to earn our positions at their company.

I’d never worked so hard at anything in my life.

“You’ll be taking the California bar?”

I nodded. “This is home. It’s where I’d like to stay.”

I took another drink of my martini, surprised that the vodka and the two shots of tequila that I’d taken earlier were already hitting me.

Or am I?

It had been almost a day since I’d eaten anything, too nervous before class to really chow down, knowing I was going to be mentored and judged by Declan Shaw.

“Can I ask you a question?” The sound of my voice came as a shock. I hadn’t planned to take over the conversation or take more of his time since it seemed I’d already gotten more than everyone else, but every minute I got with him was vital.


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