Wes cringed. “You heard that?”
“At least I know where I stand with him. I’m trash to that man.”
“I could kill him for that.” Wes straightened to his full domineering height, but reached over tenderly and tilted up her chin. “You’re the opposite of trash. You’re creative and smart and are stronger than anyone I know.”
She appreciated his compliments, but they weren’t talking about what mattered. “There was more to that call than him talking shit about me. He threatened you with something.”
He released her chin, a slight snarl curling his lip. “It’s my problem. Nothing for you to worry about.”
Again with his secrets. “I’m getting tired of you telling me what is and isn’t my concern. You need to stop protecting me, or doing whatever it is you’re doing. And while you’re at it, tell me why the idea of me walking two steps down the street on my own has you in a paranoid tizzy.”
He glared at her. She glared harder.
He stood and strutted past her, too damn sexy in those sweatpants. “This isn’t a conversation to be had in the bathroom.”
Did that mean he was finally going to open up? She hurried after him, her socked feet sliding out from under her as she rounded into the living room. He stopped. She skated by him.
“Your floor’s fun,” she said.
He shook his head, a hint of a smile showing. “You’re fun. Now get on the couch before you break an ankle.”
She saluted him and sat. He fell onto the cushion beside her. “My father threatened to fire me.”
“Over me?”
“Because I’m out of his control. It’s a fear tactic. He was pissed about me splitting with Rosanna, even though Karim was okay with it. Karim actually thanked me, said Rosanna’s been more grounded since we dated. None of it matters to my father because it wasn’t his plan. And you’re a wildcard he doesn’t like. He said one more wrong move and he’ll give me the axe.”
“He can’t be serious.”
Wes’s attention strayed from her, his nostrils flared, red blotches dotting his cheeks as his hand jerked through his hair. He looked furious and slightly worried. “Growing up, he was ruthlessly cruel with the house staff and his in-laws.” Wes’s tone stayed even, but his eyes held an edge. “It wouldn’t shock me, which would be a new level of vicious, even for him. I mean, how does someone end up—” His jaw bulged.
“End up what?”
Frowning, he waved a dismissive hand. “Nothing. I know why he’s a tyrant, and it changes nothing.”
“We can go into hiding. No more dinners out. Pretend it’s over.” She wasn’t sure why Victor treated his son like crap, but she wouldn’t be responsible for Wes losing his job. He’d said Aldrich Pharma was in his blood. Work was a large part of what made him tick.
“That’s not up for discussion. He doesn’t like us together, but he isn’t pulling rank. It’s the DJing I’m concerned about. I knew it would be an issue, hence the secret identity. Now it’s a ticking time bomb.”
“But you’ve been so careful.”
“I have, but a secret this big can’t stay quiet forever. I always knew that, but I knew I was close to something with the video feed. I needed to get to that end goal, and I’m there. I don’t need to keep performing.” He traced a line from Annie’s forehead down her nose, tapped his finger against her lips. “You can be our mouthpiece.”
She went to bite his finger. He yanked it back.
“That’s nonsense,” she said. “I’m not good enough. And you love performing. You can’t quit.”
“I can.”
“I won’t let you.”
“There you go again, being feisty.” He sounded playful, but the harsh glint in his eyes hadn’t left. “Quitting will be tough. DJing has become an outlet for me, but Aldrich Pharma matters more. That business is why I put up with my father. It’s why I work crazy hours. I love that job and won’t risk it, or jeopardize the employees who rely on their paychecks.”
“I’m not ready to play for us both.” Her voice sounded as small as she felt. He was asking too much.
“You’re not ready yet, but you will be. We’ll do the video show together. I’ll even buy you a matching mask. Then I’ll fade into the background. I’ll still use the studio. Work with you on the music until it feels as natural as breathing for you. And, if I’m honest, this was Leo’s dream, not mine. One of the reasons I worked so hard at it was for him, and for my mother. She was always on me to do things outside of work.” He studied his fisted hands and slowly released them. “Leo has you now.”
Leo had been the reason she’d stayed away from music for years. He was also why she’d returned. Playing piano had made her feel closer to him. DJing had done the same. She wouldn’t walk away now. If Wes wanted to pass the proverbial torch to her, she’d keep it lit for them both.
“I’ll do my best to make you guys proud. But I still want to vandalize your father’s house.” And help Wes unwind from that upsetting call. She maneuvered onto his lap and straddled his narrow hips.
He palmed her backside, but there was less hunger in the move than usual. “I like it when you get all protective of me.”
This was her opening. The perfect time to corner him, locked together on his couch, upsetting call or not. “I like it when you’re protective of me, too…if I know why you’re being impossibly controlling.”
He froze.
She pressed her hands to his cheeks and held him steady. “Why have you been freaking out? Why is there a driver taking me everywhere? What do you think’s going to happen to me?”
He stared hard into her eyes for several seconds, calculating, unreadable, then he sighed. “A competing company got my phone records. Rosanna overheard a guy outside a party talking about it on his cell. DLP is notorious for underhanded dealings, including blackmail to get what they want, and they want to sabotage our Biotrell merger. Your number was on my phone. They know we’re close.”
Extracting that intel had been easier than expected, but stickiness coated her belly. “They invaded your privacy like that?”
“They’re unpredictable and good at covering their tracks.”
“Okay, but…what can they do? Put a hit on me to get to you? This is pharmaceuticals, not a mob takeover.”
Wes moved her hips back slightly, distancing her on his lap. “A woman died because of them. I don’t think that was their end goal, and it was a while back, but their carelessness led to a car accident that took a person’s life. I didn’t want to put you at risk. It’s also why I delayed taking you out. But I’m done letting them infect our lives.”
“I haven’t seen anything odd. No one’s been following me. Unless there’s something else you’re hiding.”
“There haven’t been other signs, as far as I know. I think they’re focusing on the business, not personal shots. Another researcher gave notice. Duncan’s looking into the possibility of a mole in the office.”
She was glad he was sharing this burden with Duncan, but it also pissed her off. “I get your concern, but I don’t get why you didn’t tell me.”
“You were dealing with my lies about Leo.” His attention drifted away, somewhere over her shoulder. “I’d never seen you that upset and didn’t want to add to your stress. My job is to keep you happy.”
“Your job is to lean on me so I can help you. We lean on each other. We’re a team.”
He searched her face. “Is that what we are?”
Why did he sound so unsure? “Yes, unless we’re playing Scrabble, then we’re enemies. Same goes for chess. But right now, I’m the Batwoman to your Batman. So you need to tell me everything else these DLP clowns have done.”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing? Did you have anything DJ related on your phone? Calls to clubs?”
“I use a different phone for that. We’re keeping tabs on them best we can, but so far all’s quiet. They might have backed off when Rosanna and I split, figured their competition had fallen.
But, please, don’t worry. It’s me they want to sabotage.”
Was he serious? “If they mess with you, they mess with me.”
“Drop it, Annie.”
“Why won’t you let me help? I can talk to Vivian’s girlfriend. She’s a private—”
“No.” His cheeks turned his famous shade of furious.
She wanted to wring his neck. “You’re impossible.”
“This is business, and it’ll be dealt with by me through work. Now let’s get back to this bickering with benefits.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. His heart was beating too fast. “You smell like honey and sage.”
She tried to relax, kissed his chest, right over his racing heart. “You smell like diamond shavings and gold dust. Always expensive. Except when you’re Falcon. Then you smell like a secret spy.”
He didn’t laugh. His hands moved, coasting over her back, gliding up into her hair as he rolled his hips. She lit up in seconds as they kissed and kissed and kissed, barely coming up for air. They shed their clothes, sliding against each other, trying to get closer. His movements were strong and rough, more demanding than usual. And the look in his eyes? She’d never seen him this intense, desperate almost as he surged into her over and over, faster, deeper. She’d never climaxed so hard.
They stayed locked together on the couch afterward, sweaty, panting, their hearts racing. He held her agonizingly close, like she’d vanish if he loosened his hold. She couldn’t speak through the painful pressure behind her ribs.
Something bigger was growing between them, almost unbearably strong. She suddenly understood his recent vigilance, because she felt the same. Terrified this was too good to last. Scared DLP would hurt Wes somehow. His body shuddered slightly, and he pressed his lips to the top of her head. He whispered something, quiet words she couldn’t hear, then he carried her into his room.
She woke later, groggy, alone. Wes’s side of the bed was cold, and unease wiped the sleep from her eyes. She padded into the living room, only to find Wes by the windows, staring into the dark, forlorn. Sad. So unlike the Weston Aldrich she knew.
Her unease worsened.
His father’s nastiness must have affected him more than he let on, or Victor’s open dislike of Annie could have Wes second-guessing their relationship. A possibility that had her clutching her chest. But the way he’d made love to her didn’t support that theory, and they’d become so close since they’d admitted their feelings. He’d been extra domineering lately out of fear, his controlling nature plugged into an amplifier. Because he was crazy about her. Just like she was crazy about him. Wholly, deeply in love with him. He’d be even more stressed now, worried about the merger, possibly losing his job. Add in DLP, who could be doing God knew what to sabotage him, and no wonder he was having trouble sleeping.
A surge of protectiveness flared behind her ribs. Wes’s phone records had been accessed. People who did that wouldn’t hesitate to do worse. At the very least, they could learn about his DJing, and he could not, for any reason, get fired. He may have scolded her for trying to help, but she wouldn’t sit idly by and do nothing. Sarah was a private investigator. Duncan had intel on the details. The trick would be helping Wes without him knowing.
22
Weston’s eyes darted from his Rolex to Duncan, their lunch dragging longer than intended. He had to run the numbers on their latest Alzheimer’s studies and prepare projections, then arrange a final meeting with Karim’s Biotrell team for next week. The last merger details would be negotiated at that meeting, the papers finally signed. With DLP upping the stakes, he needed this deal done.
“We have ten days,” he told Duncan. “Ten days until this wraps up. We can’t lose more employees before then, especially on the Alzheimer’s studies.”
Duncan sipped the last of his espresso. “I sent a memo, asked everyone to change their passwords, just in case. I’ve had our firewall reinforced, even though it’s already Fort Knox. I’ve been sniffing around, asking random staff how things are, sussing out if anything feels off. All seems clear.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better.”
“Short of asking if someone’s offering people cash to jump ship or if they’re being blackmailed, there’s not much else we can do.”
“We can’t give Karim more reasons to question our stability.”
“Tell me something I don’t know. Pretty sure your father will fire me if we lose this merger.”
“You and me both,” Weston said under his breath.
Duncan signaled their waiter for the check. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit.” He winked at a woman at the adjacent table.
Wes smirked. “Do you ever quit trolling for women?”
“Do you ever answer personal questions?”
Annie often accused him of the same. Weston was adept at evading thorny topics. It was a cultivated skill. He may have told her about DLP’s ominous behavior, but he hadn’t been honest about his father’s threatening phone call. I will never acknowledge her as a member of this family. Leave Anthea or you’re out of the will.
His father could burn that piece of paper for all Weston cared. Weston wasn’t a dependent. He earned his living through hard work, and the status of excessive wealth didn’t drive him. Accomplishments drove him. Sure, he loved art and architecture and the finer things in life, but the past weeks with Annie had taught him he loved her tiny, messy apartment as much as his elegant loft. He’d take a night with her over a collection of modernist paintings.
That conversation with his father had been disturbing, but for different reasons: it had been a reminder that losing the person you love could ruin you.
When Weston had been upset his father had missed a debate tournament or forgotten a soccer game, his mother would kiss the crown of his head and say, “Your father is a passionate man. He loves you more than you know. More than anyone in this world. He works so hard to provide for you.”
She had been right in some respects, but love for his son hadn’t driven the man. It had been love for his wife. Singular love for this one, irreplaceable person. Once she’d died, birthdays had been blown off, holidays erased, staff fired while Weston tried to dodge the man’s cruel wrath. His father’s limited warmth and humanity had burned to ash, all because he’d lost the love of his life.
Exactly how Weston felt about Annie. She was that love: unparalleled. Irreplaceable. He hadn’t been able to open up with a woman before her, because there had been no before her. She was the one person who calmed him, made him laugh, reminded him there was life outside of work. He loved her more than he’d ever imagined possible. If he lost her, it seemed inevitable he’d end up as cold and vicious as his father, and it was infecting his mind.
Nightmares had woken him most nights since that call.
Annie running and laughing, then tripping and falling off the side of a cliff.
Annie slammed through the windshield of a car.
Annie stabbed by a mugger.
He’d wake each time, sweating, terror gripping his lungs, and she’d just be there, next to him, sleeping deeply. He was spiraling, struggling to get back to where he’d been, trusting in a future where control was out of his grasp and the fear of losing her was less potent. He’d been unacceptably distant with her at times, had nearly asked her for space to see if the nightmares would lessen. But he’d promised her he wouldn’t panic and push her away.
“Personal is hard for me,” he told Duncan, a delayed reply to his jibe: Do you ever answer personal questions? His therapist used to harp on that, too. Tell him talking was healing.
“I get it, but you’ve been looking rough for months now, and worse lately. If you won’t talk to me, I hope you at least talk to Annie.”
He hated hearing Duncan mention her name. Despised that they’d ever dated, even once casually. But Weston’s perfectly tailored suit felt too tight, the laces of his shoes pinching his feet. “I�
��m in love with her,” he forced out. If talking was healing, maybe this would help. Even with Duncan.
“Now we’re getting somewhere.” Duncan pushed his empty espresso cup to the side. “Not that I’m surprised. It’s been nice getting to know her, and I was happy when she told me you two hooked up. She’s beautiful and funny, and she’s the only woman you’ve ever dated this long.”
“I have issues in the commitment department. But I doubt anyone else would have lasted the test of time. Annie is…everything.” Irreplaceable.
“So why do you look like you’ve lost her?”
“Because I could.”
“How?”
DLP could cause an accident. Cancer could steal her away. A stray bullet could rip through her chest. “Life is unpredictable. The possibility of losing her has been messing with my mind, and I’ve been pulling away from her because of it.”
Duncan considered him. “As in nuclear war and climate change could end the planet so we should all quit our jobs, liquidate our assets, and sip margaritas in Bali?”
“Not the same.”
“Exactly the same. You’re playing hypothetical roulette. It’s like you want to pull the trigger before someone else does.”
The chicken marsala he’d eaten churned in his gut. It was exactly the same. His father’s call had set him back. He knew it. That man’s harsh bitterness was a byproduct of love: losing it had twisted him. Now Weston could barely blink without picturing Annie harmed, leaving him miserable and alone, more devastated than he’d been after losing Leo and his mother.
If they quit dating, reverted to friends, spent less time together, she’d have less of a hold on his heart. He’d stop having nightmares. He’d return to his simple life where work was enough to fulfill him. All possibilities he’d entertained during his sleepless nights. Then he’d picture breaking up with her, and pain would slice through his chest. All he’d want to do was wake her up and confess how much he loved her.
He had to get out of his head and over this hump. Annie was too important. And he had no clue why he was confiding his distress to Duncan. “I shouldn’t take advice from a man who considers monogamy an airborne disease.”
The Beat Match Page 22
