“Shouldn’t you be working?” Claire asked, blue eyes trained on Hugh with an expression so cutting that if looks could kill, he would be a pile of ash by now.
“That’s my fault,” Karina said, speaking up before the other man could. She didn’t miss the look of gratitude he sent her before he quickly hurried back to his post. “I asked for a tour for an article I’m writing, and he was merely attempting to accommodate me.”
Claire had been walking with a pair of men in suits carrying briefcases, but she seemed to forget all about them as she turned her gaze to Karina. But if she thought that an annoyed expression would make her cower, she really needed to give it more work.
“I know you.”
Karina couldn’t check the impulse if she tried as she arched a brow. “Do you?”
“You’re that reporter,” Claire said, walking toward her, arrogance bleeding back into her words as she clasped her hands in front of her. “The one who exposed William Paxton.”
She didn’t lose her smile. If anything, it grew a touch. This way, she didn’t need to explain who she was or why she was there. The woman already knew.
And more importantly, she understood just how Karina’s words had power.
“One and the same.”
“Have you come looking for a story?” Claire asked, looking down her nose at her.
“Is there one worth writing?” she retorted, refusing to back down.
If she didn’t flinch in the face of a man who had more power than anyone should, she was certainly not going to cower in the face of a woman whose only power came from her husband’s money.
“I would suggest you run along now. Find someone else to harass, or I’ll make sure this is the last story you’ll ever think of writing.”
“Mm, is that a threat?” Karina asked with a tilt of her head. “If you know who I am, then I would imagine that’s not the best idea.”
“The thing is,” she continued, slowing her speech as if she were speaking to someone of lower intelligence, “I truly don’t care. Understand me when I say you’re finished here, and should I ever see you on one of my properties again, I’ll have you arrested.”
“You do mean your husband’s properties, no?”
A corner of her painted lips turned up. “I think you heard me just fine. Now, are you going to leave on your own, or shall I have you thrown out?”
Oh, but a threat of her own lingered on the tip of her tongue, just begging to be spoken. It went beyond words and any story she could write.
No one knew the real power she possessed, how quickly she could rid the world of this woman and no one would ever mention her name again.
She wouldn’t even be a thought in Sunday’s paper should she turn up missing.
But as quickly as those dark thoughts formed, Karina remembered herself. Remembered who she was trying to be and the person she was trying to stray away from.
She wasn’t her mother.
She didn’t need to handle every situation that angered her with violence or pettiness. That wasn’t nor had it ever been the person she wanted to be.
It was why she had walked away from the family business in the first place. Because she knew she wouldn’t like who she would have to become to see it done.
Sometimes, even when it took considerable effort, the best response was to walk away. This wasn’t a fight for today, not when she still didn’t have the answers she needed.
And though she had thought to interview the woman and perhaps see what she could get out of her, Karina now knew that that would be impossible.
And not just because she was sure the woman wouldn’t be open to it.
But also because she didn’t think she would make it through the entire interview without responding harshly.
“Have a good evening, Mrs. McDonall,” she said, more than a little happy that her voice didn’t sound tight, nor did she sound particularly angry.
And it simmered some of the anger inside her when she saw the way Claire’s brows drew together as if she were expecting more of a fight—or at least a reason to call security.
But Karina wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing her react.
Not now.
Not ever.
No, she kept her head up high as she maneuvered around the woman, nodding to Hugh at the front desk who quickly ducked his head before she stepped out into the cold December weather.
And she held that expression until she was sitting in the back of a warm taxi, pulling the scarf from around her neck. Oblivious to the man currently driving her back to her apartment, she twisted that scarf in her hands until her fingers blanched and her knuckles ached.
She wished she could have said the sight of Uilleam sitting on her couch when she got home made her feel better, but her anger had yet to dampen as she ventured inside her apartment and went straight to the kitchen.
Karina gave no thought at all to the time of day as she reached for a glass in a top cabinet before grabbing the bottle of pinot from her fridge for the second day in a row. It was five o’clock somewhere in the world, as they said, and if this drink meant she wouldn’t go back to that hotel and tell Claire McDonall how she felt, then it would be better for everyone if she sipped her wine.
Uilleam looked away from the news program he’d been watching to study her for all of a second before he was moving to his feet and walking over her. She hardly got a word out edgewise before he had an arm around her waist and effortlessly lifted her onto the counter, using her surprise as a means to stand between her legs with his hands resting on either side of her hips.
He waited until her gaze was on him before he spoke. “I know a number of creative ways to make a person wish they had never put this look on your face. If you give me a name, you’ll start seeing results within the hour.”
Her smile came too easy, though she couldn’t possibly help it. Not when his words mirrored the dark thoughts she’d been trying to shove away the entirety of her ride here, but at least she felt some semblance of amusement now instead of the blackness that had taken over her mind.
“I think it’s a bit early for me to send you after her,” she said, though she was tempted. Very fucking tempted. “Besides, this is a work thing.”
And the last thing she needed was him getting involved with another story she was writing. It had already been bad enough that they had ended up on opposite ends of the whole Paxton issue. Plus, his brand of revenge and hers were on two completely different sides of the spectrum.
“I’m a keen listener,” he said before he plucked the wine bottle from her hands and poured the drink himself.
As he passed her the glass, she again noted the ring he wore with the letter “R” engraved in the center of the gold. At least now she knew what it stood for. She wondered whether all the men in his family wore one or if he’d had it specially made for himself.
“You love what you do, right? The deals and all?”
“Of course.” He hadn’t hesitated for a second.
Which brought her to her next question … “What would make you give all that up?”
He actually looked as if he was considering it for a moment, his thumb stroking her hip. “Nothing.”
“Nothing at all?”
“It’s who I am,” he said with a lift of his shoulder, drawing her attention to the rich hue of the silk shirt he wore that brought out the color of his eyes. “To give it up would be to lose myself, and that’s something I would never let happen.”
She thought that over as she took a sip of her wine. “Then what would make a man who loves what he does give it all up when he doesn’t have to?”
His gaze shifted to the television a moment before coming back to her. “Perhaps this mysterious person who I’m sure has nothing at all to do with the story you’re working on is being leveraged in some way.”
She rolled her eyes. It wasn’t as if she was being very secretive about what she was asking or why. “But if he has all the power, I don’t unde
rstand how he can be leveraged.”
“Power isn’t always about the money, poppet,” he said with a slight shake of his head.
His expression changed, turning softer almost before he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips. It was soft and unexpected, but it didn’t make it any less good for her. If anything, it was better. The way he cupped her nape. The expert way he molded his mouth to hers before she felt the gentle coaxing of his tongue to open for him.
How her heart felt like it was trying to slow and quicken all at the same time.
The way her blood heated and rushed south, making that ache she always felt where he was concerned rise up inside her …
Then, all too quickly, he pulled away, leaving her gasping for breath, her fingers tangled in the front of his shirt. Dark eyes leveled on her even as he smiled. “Now, who would you say held the power in that moment?”
She couldn’t deny it was him even if she wanted to, not when her lips were still buzzing and the pleasant high of being kissed by him still lingered. He’d certainly made his point quite well.
But while she had thoroughly enjoyed it, doubt still made her shake her head. “I’m not so sure, though.”
“No?” he asked with an arch of his brow. And for a moment, she wondered whether he was about to repeat the kiss just to make her change her mind.
“I could get on my knees right now and suck your cock until you came in my mouth, but I doubt you would then decide to make me the Kingmaker.”
The hand he still had resting on her neck tightened, a low but audible groan making her smile at him. “I would certainly be tempted if you want to test the theory.”
She was sure he would, and while she was extremely tempted to do just that, she was still in work mode, and she also knew he wasn’t completely wrong.
Maybe it wasn’t about the money at all for Hugh and his wife. It would certainly explain why he was willing to give up ownership of not just his company but to step down as well.
Claire McDonall had to be holding something over him.
Something that meant more to him than money.
She thought again of her first time meeting Hugh, of how kind he had been, but more than that, she thought of the party he’d been having for his children, though as far as she could find, it hadn’t been either of their birthdays.
A doting father would certainly be willing do anything in the interest of his children, but weren’t they Claire’s children as well?
Wouldn’t a mother care more about them than she would a potential business venture?
Surely, she couldn’t be blackmailing him in some way about that. The idea just didn’t sit well with her.
But while she might not have liked it, that didn’t mean it wasn’t true.
It at least gave her a new place to start her search. And since she couldn’t very well get answers out of Uilleam—because she had the sneaking suspicion that he wouldn’t know when to leave it well enough alone and would undoubtedly interfere even if she asked him not to—there was only one other person she was willing to turn to for help with answers.
The only question now was whether he would be willing to provide them.
9
Lessons in Respect
When he was a boy, Uilleam had learned rather quickly how to keep a straight face when faced with a problem.
The time he’d eaten a slice of cake when he’d been expressly forbidden from doing so? No one had even thought to look in his direction because his innocent façade had been so good.
And from there, he had learned how to mask what he really felt until he was ready for it to be shown.
Now, more than ever, he was thankful for the talent if only because as he’d stood there in Karina’s kitchen, calming her down, he couldn’t very well admit to knowing the woman she was upset about.
Not when he knew very well what was going on even without her having to tell him.
It seemed the universe had a wicked sense of humor because somehow, he had found himself here again—working a job that she had set her eyes on.
But this time, he wouldn’t be able to do what he did with Paxton. What he was getting in this arrangement was far too valuable. So instead of handling this in a very permanent way, he had to do something he would never have done if he didn’t have Karina.
Bargain.
“I will attempt to explain this in terms even you will understand,” Uilleam began as he moved to sit behind his desk, leveling his gaze on the woman who he had happily let wait for him for over an hour. “Should you, in any capacity, disrespect, anger, threaten, or simply annoy Karina Ashworth, not only will I sever any arrangement we have, but I will also personally set fire to everything you hold dear and ruin you to the point that you’ll wish you had never crossed paths with me.”
Eh.
As close to a bargain as he could manage.
Despite outward appearances to the contrary, Claire McDonall wasn’t a stupid woman, and she knew—even as this was their first time doing business together—that should she do anything to displease him in any way, the deal he was offering would come to an end.
He hadn’t thought he would need to worry about his work overlapping with Karina’s again, but he was clearly unlucky in that regard because here they were.
Once again, he found himself in this precarious position—one where he wasn’t sure how he wanted to proceed, only that no matter what option he picked, it wouldn’t end well.
“Perhaps it’s you who’s forgetting our agreement. You work for me, remember?”
Ah, but he did love the arrogant ones even when they didn’t know the fury they were courting. “Who do you think would suffer more if I were to leave, Mrs. McDonall?” he asked with a tip of his chin, regarding her coldly.
He hadn’t known her for long—had only actually made her acquaintance a few weeks prior to him taking Karina away to the cabin—but in that time, he’d formed an opinion of her.
He was willing to admit she was a smart businesswoman. Which was why he’d agreed to work with her in the first place, though his attention was better suited on forming his team of mercenaries. Besides, it could prove beneficial to himself should he aid her in acquiring the hotels if only because they could prove useful in the future.
But he was starting to wonder whether the potential benefits outweighed the consequences should the truth ever come out.
Karina would surely not be pleased with him.
Realizing he wouldn’t bend on this matter, Claire cleared her throat, pursing her surgically plumped lips as she finally deigned to meet his gaze. “I wasn’t aware that she mattered.”
He shrugged. “Now you are.”
There wasn’t anything more that needed to be said, especially since this was the very thing he had hoped to avoid. The last thing he needed was for his business and his personal life to intersect again. He remembered quite clearly how it had ended before, and even the screaming matches between his mum and Alexander that would have the servants scurrying away as quickly as they possibly could.
How their voices had seemed to vibrate off the stone walls of the Runehart Estate.
How even after pressing a pillow over his head in the wee hours of the morning to block out the voices, they’d still bled through.
Business and personal just didn’t belong together.
“Then perhaps you should be the one to tell her not to interfere in our business, Uilleam.”
“Two.”
“Two? Two, what?”
“Strikes. The first came when you decided to vex someone dear to me.”
“I didn’t know—”
“And second,” he interrupted before she could finish whatever she thought to say, “you use my name as if we’re on a first name basis. Should we try for a third? What’s lucky for me will certainly not be lucky for you.”
She blushed an alarming shade of red that spread up her slender neck and across her cheekbones. “My apologies … Kingmaker.”
It was
truly the little things that brought him much joy. Fear was an aphrodisiac he had never known he would ultimately crave.
It certainly brought a smile to his face.
“Now, how about you let me handle the journalist, and you worry about your image and the proposal you’ll be bringing to the board of trustees. I’m trusting I won’t need to hold your hand through that?”
Now, she blushed for an entirely different reason. “No. I can handle that.”
“Excellent,” he said with a tap of his hand against the desk, gesturing to the door with a tilt of his head. “Feel free to see yourself out.”
Claire wanted to argue—it was written all over her face and the way her shoulders tightened to how her mouth flattened as she pressed her lips together. But she wisely withheld whatever insults were playing in her mind and got to her feet before exiting his office without a backward glance.
Once she was out of sight, Uilleam turned his gaze to the man who had yet to speak a word, though he’d been standing in the room the entire time.
The thing about Skorpion? While he was rather large and looked as if he were bored majority of the time, even his silence held meaning. It was written all over his face tonight.
“Something on your mind?” Uilleam asked as he moved to his feet and walked over to the window that provided a three-sixty view of the city.
“I can tell you from experience,” he said with a nod of his head at the door Claire had walked out of, “that ain’t gonna end well.”
No, he didn’t think it would either, but it didn’t matter what he thought. “It’s business,” he said after a moment.
Besides, it would only ever become a problem if Karina found out about this new arrangement with Claire. That he was helping her complete a rather hostile takeover for a chain of hotels from the man who had built them from the ground up. He didn’t hold a particular grudge toward the man—it was simply business.
And considering his plans were vast, those hotels would prove particularly lucrative in the future.
White Rabbit Page 12
