Just One Night

by Carly Phillips

  “Okay, well, I’ll get back to you.” Chloe pushed herself up from her seat.

  “Sounds good.”

  Chloe headed back to her workspace in the office, and Jordan turned back to her computer. A message from Suzanne agreeing to lunch was in her box and she smiled. A reprieve from Linc’s sudden intense interest her, a welcome one. Tomorrow she’d have to deal with him taking her to an expensive restaurant for no good reason. But not today.

  * * *

  Linc spent the morning in a meeting with Brian and, through Zoom, their accountants. They’d found discrepancies in the business accounts. And now that Linc knew Wallace had been helping his father funnel money somewhere to fund deals nobody had been aware of, things began to make sense. Which didn’t mean they knew where the missing money had gone.

  Linc hired forensic accountants to dig deep, and if Wallace didn’t show his face soon, Linc would hire a private investigator to find him, as well. His blood pressure must be sky-high because inside he felt ready to explode in anger and frustration. Wallace had obviously taken advantage of his father’s condition. To what end, Linc had no idea, but he was sure the man had filled his pockets with company money, probably taking a cut of whatever Kenneth had going on.

  Lunchtime arrived, and Jordan ordered Linc food while she went out to pump Suzanne for information. He took note of the relieved expression on her face when she told him they wouldn’t be going out for lunch today.

  Fine with him. There was always tomorrow.

  He intended to use the free time to his advantage. After finishing his sandwich, he rose and slipped his suit jacket on. It was time to confront Beck. It had been a while since they’d had a civil conversation of any kind, and he sure as hell didn’t expect one now.

  Over the years, they’d run into each other at charity events and industry functions, but Beck would merely glare. As far as Linc was concerned, he’d already done his mea culpa and had punished himself plenty. He might feel bad but he refused to grovel. His actions back then hadn’t been intentional.

  Linc never believed the fact that he and Beck ended up in the same business and competing against each other for building and land deals had been part of some master plan of revenge. Beck had always wanted to make money and use real estate to accomplish his goal. But whether this particular deal with Linc’s father was simply good business or an opportunity to get back at Linc, he didn’t know.

  He arrived at Beck’s office in Lower Manhattan, his mood foul not just from the issue at hand but the ridiculous amount of traffic Max had hit while driving downtown. Linc hadn’t called or made an appointment on purpose, not wanting to give his nemesis time to prepare.

  Instructing Max to wait, Linc walked into the entrance, impressed despite himself. Beck owned the entire building, which had a 1930s hotel-like feel, with polished concrete floors, black-steel-framed windows, and brushed brass fixtures. It was glamorous and completely unlike the Kingston Enterprises décor. Linc’s offices and the rental models Chloe designed were more traditional than this admittedly cooler look. Chloe had often asked Linc to allow her to mix things up, but he preferred to play it safe when it came to most things. Safe sold.

  A doorman directed him to the top floor, where Beck Realty’s offices were located. The rest of the building, he rented to other businesses.

  Stepping off the elevator, he was facing a grand marble desk with a pretty woman sitting behind it.

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  “I’m here to see Mr. Daniels.”

  The woman met his gaze. “Do you have an appointment, Mr.…?”

  “Kingston. Linc Kingston, and no, I don’t, but he’ll see me.” Linc was certain.

  Apparently the brunette behind the desk didn’t agree, her expression skeptical as she picked up the phone and dialed. “A Mr. Linc Kingston is here to see Mr. Daniels,” she said, pursing her red lips. She waited, tapping her nails on the desk. “What? He will?” she asked, obviously surprised. “Thank you.”

  Glancing up, she said, “Mr. Daniels’s secretary will be out in a moment to take you to his office.” With that pronouncement, she looked Linc over, now interested in who would get past her to see the king without an appointment.

  Linc didn’t crack a smile back. He wasn’t in the mood.

  Delicate footsteps sounded, and he looked up in time to see another young woman, this one with auburn hair, walking down a hall and stopping at the desk. “Mr. Kingston?”

  “Yes.”

  “Right this way, please.” She gestured for him to follow her, and he did, winding his way past other offices and windows with a fabulous view of Manhattan before stopping behind a closed door with Beck’s name on it.

  “You can go in,” she said before taking her seat behind her desk.

  Linc drew a deep breath and walked in without knocking first and shut the door behind him. He didn’t want an audience for this conversation.

  Ready for him, Beck stood behind his desk. “Linc.” A smug smirk settled on his face, visible despite the heavy scruff of beard.

  “Beck.”

  “I was sorry to hear about your father,” Beck said.

  Considering the man stood to gain in Kenneth’s absence, Linc wasn’t so sure, but since he sounded sincere, Linc nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Since you’re here, I assume you know about our deal.” Beck gestured for Linc to sit.

  He preferred to stand. “If by our, you mean you and my father, yes. I figured it out despite your attempt to string me along, wondering.”

  Beck didn’t deny it.

  “What will it take to make this go away?” Linc asked.

  Beck, dressed in dark jeans and a burgundy long-sleeve shirt, another stark contrast to Linc, who wore a suit, tipped his head. “I can’t. The contract for the property we agreed to buy is signed. We close in one month. I need your father’s share of the money to complete the transaction with the seller.”

  Linc set his jaw. He had no doubt Beck had the money, or a bank or private lender he could turn to. Linc’s money, however, was tied up. He didn’t have the kind of liquid cash he’d need to fund his upcoming project and cover his father’s stake in Beck’s deal. The accountants had made it clear his father had been busy, leaving them cash poor, and right now he was stretched thin with his lenders.

  His only option would be to sell property to pay Beck back, but there was no way he could close a deal in time to meet the one-month deadline.

  Fuck.

  But he refused to let Beck see him sweat. If Beck were someone he trusted with the information about his father’s condition, he’d tell him, and maybe they could work together to find a solution.

  Linc didn’t trust Beck. Not with information and not with his company. “I’ll have the money for the closing.”

  He’d find a way to pay. And then he’d get his hands on the contract and hope like hell he could sell his stake in whatever this deal was so he didn’t have to work with Beck on anything.

  “Tell me something,” Linc said.

  Beck folded his arms across his chest. “Yes?”

  He studied the man who had once been his close friend. “How did you end up doing a deal with my father?”

  Beck walked to his chair, sat down, and kicked his feet up on the desk. Linc got the point. He didn’t respect him. Fine. He waited for the explanation he wanted. One he could never get from his father.

  “Your old man came to me. He’d heard about this property for sale. Said he wanted a partner who’d go in on it with him. I laid out my terms and he agreed.”

  Linc stiffened but reminded himself Kenneth hadn’t known Linc’s history with Beck. The man happened to be someone in the business who Linc’s father could turn to in a real estate deal.

  “Got all the information you need?” Beck glanced at his watch. “I have a meeting to attend.”

  Holding on to his temper by a thread, Linc turned and walked out. Not slamming the door behind him took all the self-control Linc
could muster.

  * * *

  Jordan returned from lunch, full from good food but without any information to help Linc. She knocked on his door to let him know she was back, but he didn’t answer.

  After getting settled at her desk, she pulled out her cell to check her messages. There was one from Linc telling her he’d gone to see Beck. The notion made her nervous, and she waited for him to come back and fill her in.

  But Linc didn’t return to the office, and by the end of the day, Jordan was worried. He hadn’t returned her calls or texts, which was unlike him. Chloe had left for the day, so she couldn’t ask his sister, so Jordan decided she’d stop by his apartment and check on him.

  Because she was on his permanent list, his doorman let her up to his floor on the penthouse level and she knocked. When he didn’t answer, she waited and knocked again. Thinking she heard something inside, she banged harder. She waited, impatiently tapping her foot until she finally heard the sound of the lock and the door opened.

  Linc stood in the doorway, a towel wrapped around his waist, muscled chest bare, and droplets of water clinging to his skin. Her eyes settled on one particular drop, watching its descent down his pec and over his nipple.

  A strangled moan caught in her throat.

  “Jordan? What are you doing here?” he asked, obviously surprised by her visit.

  Dazed by the sight, she raised her gaze only to find a sexy, knowing smirk on his lips. He absolutely knew how he affected her.

  Attempting to remain composed, she cleared her throat. “You haven’t answered your phone! I was worried after I realized you went to see Beck and then disappeared.”

  An apologetic expression crossed his face. “I’ve been at the gym pounding a bag.”

  Taking out his frustration, which made her assume his meeting hadn’t gone well. “I see.”

  He stepped backward for her to come in.

  She walked past him, the woodsy scent of his cologne surrounding her and heightening her awareness of his nearly naked body. Warmth curled in her belly and her nipples tightened. If not for her light jacket, he’d have visual proof.

  Not that he needed it. Her gaze fell to his chest again, then lower to the towel secured by a mere tuck of material with a definite bulge.

  “Don’t you think you should get dressed?” Her strangled tone betrayed her arousal.

  She couldn’t help it. She couldn’t look at a nearly naked Linc without wanting to wrap herself around him and hold on tight.

  His stupid smirk returned. “Am I bothering you?” he asked.

  “Lincoln Kingston, go get dressed!” Using the full name he hated because his father had given it to him due to its stature, or so Kenneth Kingston claimed, she pointed in the direction of his bedroom.

  Laughing, he walked off, leaving her to make her way to the kitchen and get some water. She took long sips to cool herself down, then rinsed, dried, and put away the glass before heading to the living room.

  Linc’s apartment was basic in its décor, the way he liked it. Chloe, who specialized in interior design, had helped him turn the penthouse into his masculine haven. A sleek black leather sofa with reclining seats on the ends, a glass table with brass frame in front of it, a matching cocktail table, and what Jordan knew to be a painting bought at auction hanging on the wall behind the couch. Every piece in this room cost more than most people could fathom spending on any one item, yet Jordan didn’t love it. She’d prefer a softer, warmer feeling to a place she lived.

  “Better?” he asked.

  She turned at the sound of Linc’s voice. He’d gotten dressed, all right, but he’d put on a pair of gray sweats, his bulge still noticeable, and she swallowed hard. A mouthwatering happy trail and the V-line leading to where the pants tied low on his hips taunted her. Made her think about running her tongue over his warm skin.

  Damn him. It was, she thought, the equivalent of her slipping into a sexy piece of lingerie and parading in front of him.

  A hint of challenge lit his eyes, and she refused to back down.

  “Yes, much better,” she said through clenched teeth. “What happened with Beck?”

  Linc stalked into the kitchen and she followed.

  “He was an arrogant, gloating son of a bitch. But he didn’t go looking for a deal with my father. Kenneth brought one to him.”

  Linc paused by the fridge while she stared in shock.

  “Why?”

  He lifted his broad shoulders. “I have no fucking clue what made him turn against us.” He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a can of Diet Coke. “Want one?”

  “Sure.”

  He handed her a can, then popped the top of his own.

  “So what next?” she asked.

  He took a drink, the long column of his throat moving up and down. Everything he did became sexual and heightened the awareness he inspired.

  “I have to come up with Dad’s share of the money for closing or Beck can come after a piece of my company.” He finished what was left of the can and slammed it on the granite countertop.

  Or, she thought, he could try and reason with Beck by revealing his father’s diminished capacity and get the man to back down. But she knew better than to suggest it again. He’d vetoed the idea and he had his reasons. He wanted to protect his company and so did she.

  “So what can I do to help?” she asked.

  “You can do what you always do. Be there for me.” His dark gaze met hers and her hands began to shake, and she placed the can next to his.

  Good thing, because he stepped closer, backing her against the counter until she was surrounded by him. His physical strength, his heat, and his scent all wreaked havoc with her mind, common sense, and all rational thought.

  He dipped his head and his mouth hovered close to hers. Seconds passed in which she had a choice. An angel on one side begged her to back away. The devil on the other urged her to give in and take what he offered. What her body wanted.

  Their breaths mingled and she forgot why she was resisting. In that moment, she couldn’t bring herself to care, and she kissed him, her lips meeting his. Nothing about their joining was soft. They came together in a clash of mouths, teeth, and tongue, desire rushing through her as she slid her hands over his bare chest, scoring her nails over his skin.

  He groaned, and while devouring her with his mouth, he lifted her skirt, finding her tiny scrap of underwear beneath. He slid a hand over her sex, and a shock of awareness rippled through her.

  “Fuck, you’re wet,” he said, breaking the kiss.

  She couldn’t deny the truth, and when he rubbed a finger over the material, finding her clit and pressing in, she shattered immediately. Picking up rhythm, he rubbed back and forth as she came, guiding her through and prolonging her unexpected climax.

  “Holy shit,” she muttered, her legs like jelly when the spasms passed. Only then did she realize Linc held her up, hands now braced on her waist.

  Before she could think, she slipped her fingers beneath the waistband of his pants, her hand grasping his cock. He wore no underwear, so her palm wrapped around his bare erection, and she closed her eyes, focusing on the steel of him and the contradicting softness of his skin.

  A shudder rippled through him, and a low rumble sounded from his chest. She gripped tighter and pumped her hand up and down, pausing only to swipe her hand over the creamy fluid on the tip.

  “Fuck,” he said on a low groan, and at the guttural sound, her sex spasmed and she wanted him. Now.

  “Tell me you have a condom.” She hooked her thumbs into the waist of his pants and attempted to pull them down.

  Instead of answering, he clasped her wrist, halting her movement. “No,” he said, sounding tortured.

  She opened her eyes in surprise.

  “What? Why not?” Her head was spinning from her climax, arousal and his sudden change of mind.

  He braced her face in his hands. “Because I want all of you. Not just your body and I won’t settle for anythin
g less. And you’re not there. Yet.”

  How had he read her so well? And why was she more pissed with his knowledge of her internally than she was with him denying her sex?

  “Fine.” She wriggled down her skirt, ignoring the dampness between her legs and the throbbing desire that needed to be filled.

  “Hey.” Reaching out, he tipped her chin up so she had no choice but to look at him. “Can you tell me you’d thought about how you’d feel after we had sex?”

  “No,” she snapped, sexually frustrated.

  He chuckled and she grew more annoyed. More with herself than with him, but she wouldn’t admit it out loud.

  Cell phones rang from the other room. Two contrasting sounds, which meant someone was trying to reach them both.

  She shot him a concerned glance, and they raced into the living room.

  Jordan was still searching her handbag when Linc spoke. “Aurora’s in the hospital. She might be in labor.”

  Panic seized her, stomach twisting. “It’s too soon.”

  He nodded. “I know. The hospital’s near my mother’s. It’s about an hour from here. Are you ready now?”

  “Yes.” She didn’t care that she was wearing her work clothes.

  Within seconds, Linc had called Max, who he kept on standby during the week. They spoke and he turned to her. “He’ll be downstairs in fifteen minutes.”

  Excusing herself, she enclosed herself in the bathroom to wash and clean up. Not caring about her makeup, she splashed cold water on her face and patted off the water with a towel she’d taken from the linen closet in the bathroom.

  Looking at herself in the mirror, she saw a woman with flushed cheeks from a surprise orgasm and lingering frustration, but she also saw eyes filled with worry for Aurora. Inside, her stomach was churning and not only with concern for Linc’s sister.

  She was worried about herself. What was she doing with Linc? Why was she suddenly so attracted to him she couldn’t bring herself to listen to her mind and instead responded with her body? She refused to think about whether or not her heart had become involved because that would be a disaster.