by Aliyah Burke
He still clenched his jaw, as he’d been doing at her place, and she watched the play of muscles in his arm. Damn, can I not think about sex around him? Apparently not even anger could stop her desire for this man. But it was something she could control.
“How dare you!” she seethed.
He raised a brow and drank from his beer. “Problem?” His word was crisp and bitten off.
“Yes. I told you what I could. I shouldn’t have told you what I did and I broke that rule. Then you dare to try and be righteous about what I may or may not have to do.” She dragged her fingertips across the smooth countertop as if she had claws and could tear through the material.
“So I’m supposed to be okay with my girlfriend kissing, or fucking, another man?” His grin was tight and definitely didn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t think so, babe. I’m not that kind of man.” He drank some more. “I never will be.”
“I do what’s necessary for the job.”
“Must be nice to have a built-in excuse for cheating.”
She went ramrod straight, eyes narrowing. “Excuse me? A built-in excuse for cheating?”
“That’s what it is when you’re in a committed relationship and sleep with another.”
She longed to punch him. “Don’t worry, it’s not a concern any longer.”
It was his eyes that narrowed this time. “How so?” He crossed his powerful arms, beer dangling from one hand.
“Because”—she whirled around to head for the door and jerked it open—“I no longer have a boyfriend.” She exited and slammed the door behind her. “Arrogant bastard.”
Back in her apartment, she went to her closet and withdrew a suitcase. Flopping it on her bed, she stared at her dresser and thought about the clothing she needed to pack. She shook she was so furious. How dare he! How fucking dare he.
It’s not like I asked for this and I never said I would be sleeping with anyone. She’d never met the man before—it wasn’t like she was about to fall into bed with him.
* * * *
She didn’t see Tuck again until the day of her departure. She’d set it up with Steve to get her mail and water the few plants she had. Tuck was leaving his apartment at the same time. His gaze singed as she stood there, hand on her suitcase handle.
With a blink, she started to walk towards the stairs, ignoring both her desire to talk and kiss him.
“Not even going to say goodbye?”
“Hello, Tuck.” She started down the stairs. “Goodbye, Tuck.”
Of course he wouldn’t leave her alone. Instead of taking the elevator, he began down with her. When he reached for the handle she glanced at him.
“What are you doing?”
His gaze didn’t give anything away. “Trying to carry your bag, if you’d release your hold on it.”
She stopped on the landing, released the bag and tapped her foot. After rubbing her forehead, she turned her left earring.
“What possible reason—”
His mouth landed on hers with a ferocity that stunned her. Backed into the corner, she could only hold on as he dominated her. He swept through her mouth with angry strokes. Her pussy creamed and she held onto him as if it were the only thing ensuring she wouldn’t crumble boneless to the ground. And it very well may have been the only thing holding her up.
It seemed the kiss ended before it had even truly begun. He stepped away from her and hefted her suitcase as if it weighed nothing—for him, it probably didn’t—and continued down the steps.
He was out of sight by the time she regrouped and she hastened after him. Damn! Tuck walked right out to her vehicle then gave her a look she understood to mean unlock the SUV. So she did.
He placed her items in the back then went to hold the driver’s door for her. Thoughts completely jumbled, she allowed him to assist her into the vehicle.
“Stay safe,” he murmured, brushing the back of his hand along her cheek.
He desired to kiss her—she could read it in his gaze—and part of her willed him to follow through. Unfortunately, he didn’t. Instead he backed away and closed the door on her.
“I have no idea what just happened there,” she said with a huff of air.
She could see him striding away in her rear-view. There were no look-backs nor any hesitation from him. However, she didn’t leave her parking spot until that fine denim-swathed ass disappeared from sight.
* * * *
Tuck sat at a conference table waiting to be joined by Richard, who had requested his presence. Helen, his secretary, had told Tuck to sit tight here. So here he waited, taking in the opulence of the conference room. From the sleek mahogany table, zero gravity chairs and the artwork on the walls that cost more than a month’s rent for him, the room screamed wealth.
The door opened and in came Richard, a file in one hand and his cane in the other. He slid it along the gleaming top. Tuck stopped it with his fingers.
“What’s this?” he asked.
He was aware his response was a bit on the sharp side, but he was still put out by being kept in the dark about the panic rooms.
“Read it.”
Richard sat at the head of the long table, nearly all the chairs between them. Tuck flipped the file open. A contract lay there. He read it.
Holy shit.
“Is this a joke?” he demanded of the man across the room from him.
“Surely you know me better than that by now, Pierce. Why would I go through the trouble of drafting a contract merely if it’s nothing more than a joke? I have more important things to do with my time.”
The reprimand was there but Tuck ignored it. He glanced from the paper to his mentor again. Richard’s cane rested on the table and he’d leant back in the chair, eyes closed. Didn’t look like a man pressed for time to get something else accomplished—more like one about ready to take a nap.
“You’re fronting me the full amount to start my own architectural business. As well as a construction one.” He peered at Richard again. No change in him. “And you’re only stipulation for being paid back is ‘when it won’t bother me to do so’? Richard, this is insane.”
“I can do whatever I want with my money, Pierce. I’ve earned it therefore I can spend it however I want.”
“You can, but this is bordering on lunacy.”
One eye opened and the force of the glare slammed him. “So you don’t want your own company?”
Tuck scoffed. “Of course I do.”
“Okay then, what’s the problem? I want to give you the money and you could definitely use it.”
“And your children? How will they feel about this?”
He gave a dry bark of amusement. “Not that I give a damn what they think. They didn’t earn any of this. Not to mention,” he said, sitting up. “What I’m giving you is less than what they’ve blown on frivolous crap like cars and other things. Mind you”—he rapped his knuckles on the table—“that’s each of them alone. Remember, I have five kids.”
Tuck knew there was strained tension between them all but he’d not known it was that bad. “What’s this about the land?”
“That property we saw a while back. It and one hundred acres are for you to build that house. I especially like the water wall you added to the master bedroom. Nice touch.”
Tuck smiled. That had been put in after he and Ariel had been on their first date.
“It’s still too much—”
“Let me put it to you this way. You accept it now or when I die I’m leaving my entire empire to you.” He drummed his fingertips this time. “I may do that anyway—give me a final chuckle and show my leech kids they aren’t in any way getting what their whore of a mother couldn’t get from me. Pre-nup, son. That’s the only reason I still have what I have.”
Tuck reclined and swirled towards Richard. “I get it. It’s your money.”
“Damn straight. And I’ll do whatever I want with it.”
“Right. I still think it’s insane.”
Richard leant
forward. “Humour me. Or can you sit there and tell me you’re not the least bit interesting in signing a sheet of paper that will get you the money.”
“Of course I am, it’s everything I’ve wanted. I’m trying to protect your interests here.”
“Don’t worry about me, son. Are you trying to tell me you’re not worth the investment? That you’ll fuck it all up and drink away the money?”
He frowned. “No, of course not.”
“Then let me bank roll it for you. Sign the paper. There’s a pen there.”
He wanted to so badly but couldn’t muster the strength to lift the gold plated pen that had been attached to the file.
“I don’t want to take advantage of our friendship.”
“Come down here. Don’t make the old man get up.” He beckoned. “And bring that file.”
Tuck did as ordered and lowered himself into the seat to Richard’s right.
“I think of you as a son, Tuck.”
He started at the use of his nickname. In the many years they’d known one another, the man had never—not even once—called him Tuck.
“And one I’m proud of, unlike the other wastrels. I want to do this for you. I don’t even need a contract, we can go to the bank now, you present your business plan and I will transfer funds to an account for you to use. No interest charged.” Richard moved his cane to the left. “Listen to me. You see this as a risk. I see it as an investment. I give grants and loans to people all the time to start up their own businesses. Only, however, when I believe in them. Why do you think I’ve been pushing you to finish the house plans and your business plans for your firm and company? I’ll tell you—because I believe in you. You, Pierce, and your ability to turn into a huge success. You are already building a following—the companies we work with love having you on the job and some have even really gone for the changes you’ve suggested in the blueprints of either homes or businesses. It’s time for you to stop working for me and get out on your own.”
Tuck blinked and stared at his friend and mentor, baffled.
Richard laughed. “I’m not losing my marbles. I want to make this happen. Three days from now, we’ll go to the bank and get you the money. First, however, since you seem to want to not believe in my trust for you, you’ll stand here in this room and present your business plan to me and a few others whom I’ll bring in. Deal? Good.” Richard got to his feet. “Let’s get some food.”
This was truly happening. Tuck couldn’t believe it but as he walked with Richard to the elevator, not even his disbelief could wipe the smile from his face. He couldn’t wait to tell Ariel.
Chapter Ten
Ariel sipped from the flute of champagne she held. In truth, she merely let a few drops in, her goal to give the impression she was drinking. This was the fourth party in a week and she was reaching the end of her goodwill. It wasn’t her style to get all gussied up and stand around talking about others who don’t have as much.
“How’s my beautiful lady?”
Jackson Dovers slid his arm around her and placed a kiss on her cheek. She was one lucky woman—the man looked a lot like Tyrese Gibson and had this way of making her think things she shouldn’t. They had a good rapport with one another and she wanted to keep it that way.
“Are you ready to leave?” she asked. She brushed her gaze over him, taking in the way he wore his tuxedo. The man was downright handsome, no denying that fact. At the last minute they had nixed the fiancée thing for her. She said if she was only there temporarily, it didn’t make sense. If he was supposed to be a playboy then there was nothing wrong with her being there for a short time then gone from the picture.
A few people drifted near as was customary when he stopped long enough. He was big news and everyone, women especially, wanted to find out how and what he’d been doing. It didn’t matter that she was supposed to be his girlfriend—it surely didn’t stop them from making advances. Both married and unmarried.
“Leave all this to spend some quality alone time with you? Baby,” he said with a wink for the crowd, “we could have stayed home and done more, um, pleasurable things.” He nuzzled her neck. “Although seeing you in this dress was well worth it. Sapphire chiffon looks stunning on you. And sexy. Can’t wait to unwrap you.”
She knew she looked good—the iridescent layered chiffon dress was a perfect fit. The sweetheart bodice tempted, it was sleeveless and the asymmetric hem added to the entire package. The fitted bodice had pleating diffusing from the side seam and although the hem reached the floor, there was a side slit that allowed a peak of leg to sneak through when she walked. Silver heels rounded out the image.
Ariel could see envy on some of the women’s faces. With a smile, she placed the flute on a passing waiter’s tray. “Let’s go then.”
He cupped the nape of her neck and rubbed. “If y’all will excuse us.”
From her periphery, she spied a man watching them, gaze hard. To most people he would have merely been watching the couple but for Ariel, there was something else going on. She racked her brain and realised why he seemed familiar.
“Who’s that man to my left?” she asked him before stopping and turning in the direction.
A ripple went through Jackson before he shrugged with forced nonchalance. “No clue.” He tightened his hold on her. “Let’s get the car.”
It was waiting for them as they departed the large mansion and walked into the Texas night. Fall had arrived and it was finally a bit cooler. The valet held her door for her as she slipped into the passenger seat of his glossy red Ferrari 458 Spider hard-top convertible. The top was up tonight. However, there’d been times when it had been down for some of their day trips.
As he got behind the wheel, she spied that same man on the top of the steps. Eyes narrowing, she decided to hold her tongue until they got back to his place. A relatively short drive to begin with. She’d found that when people had cars that could do nearly two hundred miles per hour, they tended to speed a bit.
Jackson slowed when he pulled up to the gate surrounding the congressman’s home. He entered a code and the gate swung open only to shut after they had passed.
“Let me out here,” she said.
“What?”
“Just do it and park your car. Meet me in the kitchen in a few, we need to chat.” She climbed out and shut the door behind her. After he drove on, she made her way back to the gate and waited, hidden by the tall privacy shrubbery planted all around.
About five minutes later, another vehicle drove up where it slowed at the gate—a crotch rocket. The man idled the bike before he eventually continued on his way. Deep in her gut, she knew it was the same man from the party who’d been watching them so intently.
A light hum had her turning around. Security was riding up on a golf cart. The driver was Samuel—he’d been a security guard most of his adult life and was the head of it here. He knew what she was truly there for.
“What are you doing out here, Ms Greene?” he asked, stopping beside her and glancing about. He whistled. “Look at you in that dress. Get in here, I’ll not have you walking back to the house.”
She sat on the seat beside him. “Thanks. I need to know if you have any footage of a motorcycle hanging around. Crotch rocket, darker colour. Just happened now and if that same make and model has passed by earlier.”
“I’ll look into personally.”
“Thanks. Whatever you find, let me know immediately. I don’t care what the time is.”
“Will do.” He pressed the pedal on the cart and whisked her back up to the front door of the house. “Night, Ms Greene.”
“Goodnight, Samuel. Thanks for the ride.”
“Couldn’t have you walking all that way dressed like that. I’ll get you the information as soon as I can.”
She waved and let herself into the mansion. A servant hurried towards her, an apologetic expression on her face.
“So sorry, ma’am.”
Ariel gave her a kind smile. “No reason to be.
” She leaned close and whispered conspiratorially, “I’m capable of opening my own doors.”
The woman gave her a barely there one in response. A shame—everyone was so serious here. Well, most.
“Could you please send for Jackson and have him meet me in the kitchen?”
“Yes, ma’am.” She bobbed then scampered off.
Ariel went to the huge kitchen and began preparing herself a sandwich. None of those puny hors d’oeuvres that had been offered would have even begun to make a dent in the hole in her stomach. “What I wouldn’t give for a beer and a large steak right now.”
She sighed and slapped some turkey and salami on her sandwich. Then piled on some more items—lettuce, tomato, cheese, sprouts.
“You rang, darling?”
She smiled at his tone—he was one who liked to laugh. “We need to have a pow-wow.” She gestured with the knife still covered in mustard.
He stared at her plate and she slid it closer to herself.
“Wanna keep that hand, man, forget my sandwich. Make your own.”
“Isn’t that your job?”
She snarled silently. “My job is to keep you alive for two more weeks. I’m not your cook. Get up and fix your own damn sandwich.”
He grumbled but got up, still in his tuxedo, and pulled out another hoagie.
“Ready to tell me who that man is who’s been showing up everywhere we go?”
As expected, Jackson tensed before shrugging. “Maybe you have an admirer.”
“Lying doesn’t sit well with me. Who is he?” She cut her sandwich in half then bit into one section. Oh yeah. So good.
“You really want to know?” His tone was annoyed and snippy.
Taking another bite, she hooked her heels onto the rung of the stool and grunted. “Wouldn’t have asked otherwise.” She reached for the glass of lemonade she’d poured earlier.
“Let’s make a deal then. You’ve been teasing me with your tight clothing and sexy walk since you arrived. You’re supposed to be my girlfriend so wouldn’t we be sleeping together?”
She lifted an eyebrow and swallowed her food.
“You have sex with me and I’ll tell you everything.”
