by Jenna Harte
When Oliver told her how he wanted her to spend her weekend, she’d said “no way,” but he’d worked her, probably the same way he’d worked people in business, and eventually, to appease the dying man, she’d agreed.
Her resistance had nothing to do with a free trip to New York. Actually, that sounded like fun. Her only experience with New York had been through all the TV shows centered there. No, her problem was the two-hour plane ride from Charlotte Tavern, Virginia, to New York. A plane ride she’d have to take with Drake, a man who, over the course of two weeks, had gone from distrusting her to lusting after her to loathing her, all for reasons she didn’t understand. The only good thing about the trip so far was that because she was on a private plane, she didn’t have to sit next to him. Even so, while most of her wanted be done with him forever, another part of her had to know what turned Drake against her.
She sipped from a bottle of cold water to settle her stomach. “I know you’re busy with your conquest of Carmichael Corporation, but maybe you can tell me why you’re upset with me?”
“I don’t like being made for a fool.” He didn’t look up from his laptop. He sat on the other side of the plane at a table, where’d he’d been typing away since the moment the plane had left the ground.
What the heck was he talking about? “A fool? Did I embarrass you?”
“Let’s just say your and Oliver’s little plan won’t work. You may have sidetracked me, but I won’t be distracted from my goal.”
During his outburst, he’d said something about her and Oliver’s “plan.” She wasn’t any closer to knowing what he meant than when he first said it. “I’m missing something, because I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
Drake lifted his head, his eyes darker and colder than she’d ever seen. “You’re not one to play coy, Lexie. I know you and Oliver conspired to distract me from my work.”
“He thought you could use some fun and I agreed. I told you that.”
“Whose idea was the sex?”
Lexie wasn’t sure whether to laugh or scream. “That was your idea.”
He didn’t say anything.
“You seriously think I had sex with you because Oliver asked me to? Do you know how insulting that is? And sick.” She didn’t want to sound shrill, but it was hard, when he’d been the one to suggest sleeping together. When he was the one wanting a “distraction.”
“Oliver has been testing me from the moment I arrived. And he’s been using you to do it. You fooled me. You fooled him too, didn’t you? You worked him so he’d think hiring you was his idea. What do you get out of all this, Nurse Lexie?”
“How dare you!” Her voice was low as she struggled to speak. “Oliver may play games with your life, but he’d never do what you just suggested.”
Drake scoffed. “He’s done worse.”
“But I wouldn’t—” The plane tilted slightly, enough to make her breakfast backtrack. She scrambled from her seat to the bathroom. She didn’t even have time to lock the door before her breakfast forced its way from her body. Shaking, she sank to the floor.
Did he really believe she manipulated Oliver into hiring her? Or worse, that she and Oliver conspired to keep Drake from his goal? That she’d sleep with him to test his dedication to the family business? He basically called her a whore. It made her feel cheap, dirty, and violated. That sent another wave of nausea through her.
Once her stomach settled, she rummaged through the bathroom finding a travel-sized unused tube of toothpaste and a toothbrush wrapped in plastic. She unwrapped the brush and covered the bristles with toothpaste.
“Lexie.” Drake pushed his way into the tiny bathroom.
“Go away,” she said with a mouthful of foam.
“Are you sick?”
“What do you care if I am?”
“God dammit, Lexie, are you pregnant?”
She whirled on him. “You’re something else, you know that? You wore two condoms. Two.” She flicked the toothbrush at him for emphasis, not caring that she splattered her spit on his expensive Italian suit. “Getting through that would be like breaking into Fort Knox. I’m not pregnant, Drake, and if I were, I wouldn’t tell you.” She turned back to the sink to spit and rinse.
“The hell you wouldn’t.” He grabbed her arm, turning her to him.
She jerked away from him. “Don’t. Touch. Me.”
He released her quickly, as if her arm burned his hand.
She pushed around him, returning to her seat, then dug through her purse until she found a stick of gum. “Can you turn this thing around and take me home? The company is making me sick.”
“No.”
She glared at him with a mixture of rage and disappointment. “I’ll make arrangements at the airport in New York.”
As the plane came to a halt, Lexie could see they weren’t anywhere near the airport terminal. Why did rich people have to do everything away from the regular folk? How was she going to get to the terminal and get a plane home now? As the door opened, a black limo pulled up next to the plane on the tarmac.
“Good morning, Mr. Carmichael, Ms. McKenna.” The driver, an older gentleman with friendly eyes hooded by large, fluffy white brows that made her think of an old country doctor, opened the door to the back of the car.
“Good morning, Carl.” Drake motioned for Lexie to exit ahead of him.
Lexie might have been impressed the driver knew her name if she weren’t so mad. “Carl, do you think you can drop me off at the terminal? I’m returning home.”
“Is Mr. Oliver sick again?”
“No. We’ll take her to the hotel.” Drake stood beside the car door waiting for her to climb in.
“I don’t want—”
“Once you’re there, I’ll leave, and you won’t have to look at me ever again.”
She glared at Drake.
“Don’t let me ruin your trip.”
Lexie didn’t want to be on the same planet as Drake, much less in the same car, but she didn’t have much choice. She said nothing as she got into the car. Drake climbed in, sitting as far away from her as possible.
As she had in the plane, Lexie ignored Drake by focusing her gaze out the window. She’d seen New York a million times on television, but being in the city was beyond anything she expected. It was bigger, brighter, and louder than she imagined. It was a dream come true to be there. She just wished the company was different.
The car stopped in front of a fancy hotel called Talbot Luxe. Sitting across the street from Central Park, the hotel entrance had white and black checkerboard tiles, and was manned by a doorman in a full-length dark coat with gold trim and hat, just like on television. He scurried to the car and opened the door.
“This is your stop,” Drake said.
Eager to get away from Drake, she exited the car and looked up at the tall, ornate, early-twentieth century building. “I can’t afford this place.”
“Oliver arranged everything.” Drake stood next to her. “I’ll see you to your suite and then…I’ll be gone.”
Lexie’s anger and hatred made it difficult to enjoy the vibrant city or opulence of the hotel. At the same time, it couldn’t completely dampen her awe. Maybe once he was gone, and after a few drinks, she could enjoy the city as Oliver wanted her to. So she followed Drake into the lobby and tried not to gape at the gold-trimmed walls that made her feel like she’d just walked into a palace.
A bellboy took her single small bag and led her to the elevator with Drake following.
“Do you live like this all the time?” She stood as far away from him in the elevator as she could, and pushed away the memory of their last elevator ride involving foreplay.
“I have an apartment. Oliver’s home, where Derrick and Sharon live, is more like this.”
“But the drivers and expensive things—”
“I’m not ashamed to be rich, if that is what you’re asking,” he snapped.
“I didn’t say that.” Lexie had been immune to his dark
moods, but this time, his harsh tone made her eyes water. It was as if he was determined to hurt her.
Not wanting him to know her pain, she swallowed the threat of tears and steadied her voice. “It’s like a different universe for me.”
They exited the elevator, and the bellboy opened the door to her room. Lexie gasped at the size and luxuriousness of the suite. High ceilings and several windows allowed for an abundance of natural light. The suite was decorated in ivory and taupe tones, accentuated with rich dark woods. Texture brocade fabrics and rugs added color. And that was just the living area. She glanced through an arched doorway into a bedroom with a bed so large, she could lay on it in any direction and still have a foot or two of empty space.
“This place isn’t any nicer than your place. More expensive and fancier, maybe, but in the end, it’s still just a place.”
His statement was a reminder of how different they were. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“You’re probably right. Let me add to your trip to another world.” He reached into this pocket and pulled out a credit card. “This is for you. Use it as you wish. And—”
“I can’t take that.”
“You’ll need money. New York is expensive.”
“You accused me of selling myself and wonder why I won’t take your money?” She was glad she could access her anger, because there’s no way she wanted to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.
Did he flinch? Did he realize what a jerk he was being, or was that just wishful thinking on her part? He didn’t say anything as he set the card on the coffee table. “Here are my cell and home numbers. I know you want nothing to do with me, but if you have an emergency, you can reach me.”
Lexie tried to ignore him by looking out the window over Central Park. This was a gift of a lifetime, given to her by Oliver. She’d need to try to enjoy it. The sooner Drake left, the easier it would be. “Here’s some cash too, just in case.”
Lexie whirled on him. “I’m not a whore, Drake. Take the money and get out!”
“I know you’re not a—”
“You as much as called me one on the plane!” All the sense of adventure vanished. Lexie pushed past Drake. “I’ve got to get out of here.”
“Where are you going?”
“Home. I’ll get a cab to the airport with my own money.” She supposed she should thank Drake. With Bobby Lee’s money, she had the means to get home.
“Lexie.” This time, he did touch her. He took her arm gently but firmly.
“I said don’t tou—”
“I know. And I’ll let go, but you’re upset and tired. You should stay here. I’ll leave.” He nodded and released her arm. “Stay here for today. If you still want to go, I can arrange for you to fly home tomorrow.”
“I don’t need you to arrange anything.” The tears were threatening again.
“I know you don’t, but I’ll still do it. I’m going now. Try to get some rest. There’s a concierge that will make arrangements if you’d like to see a show or something.”
He waited for her to respond, but she couldn’t without giving away how much he hurt her. Fortunately, he left without another word.
Since she was stuck, she decided to tour the suite. She entered the bathroom where a large tub had her imagining a luxurious soak with Drake. She let out a curse. Why did he have to be such a jerk? What had she done to deserve the way he treated her?
She decided to take a hot shower to wash away any remnants of him. Scrubbed free of Drake, she wrapped herself in one of the large hotel robes and climbed into bed. It was the middle of the day in the most exciting city in the world, and she was hiding under the covers, letting him win. She’d endured betrayal and embarrassment before but never the type of hurt Drake heaped on her. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to sleep off the pain, she got out of bed, found her phone, and called Chelsea.
“Hey, how’s New York?”
“I want to come home.” Lexie sounded like a kid stuck at camp but didn’t care.
“Why? What happened?”
Lexie made herself comfortable on the couch and described Drake’s outburst the day before and his accusations on the plane.
“Really? He said that?”
“No joke, Chels. I’ve never felt so … dirty …”
“I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”
“Why are you sticking up for him? Did I tell you he accused me of being pregnant too? The guy wears two condoms.”
“Two?” Chelsea snickered. “Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously. The guy has real issues about having a kid.”
“Did he think you wanted to get married or something?”
“I have no idea what’s going on in his thick skull. To be honest, I’m not sure he knows either. I mean, one minute he’s like Joe Cool and he’ll do something really sweet, and the next minute he’s raging at me.”
“I think he likes you.”
“Did you hear what I just said?” Had Chelsea read too many romance novels? She believed in fairy tales, despite the fact her track record was as bad as Lexie’s.
“Yes. But think about it, Lex. A guy like Drake wouldn’t care what you thought or did. He’d get his kicks and move on. But he got mad. Like you hurt him. Like he thought you betrayed him by working in cahoots with Oliver.”
“I wasn’t working—”
“I’m not saying you were. I’m saying he thought you were, and it hurt him. It can only hurt him if he cares about you.”
Part of Lexie wanted to believe that, but the rational part of her wouldn’t allow it. “No. I think he was afraid I’d try to trap him, so he came up with a dumb reason to yell at me so I’d forget about him.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
“I’m coming home as soon as I can arrange it and forget about him.” Lexie knew she could return home, but she wasn’t confident in her ability to forget him.
“I think you should drink everything in the minibar, order a fortune in room service, and spend every dime on the credit card.”
For the first time since arriving in New York, Lexie smiled. “I would, but it’s on Oliver’s dime, not Drake’s.”
“Still. You’re in New York. Live a little.”
Lexie got off the phone more confused. She desperately wanted to hate Drake for what he’d said and turned her into. If she could hate him, there’d be no pain. But she could only feel sorry for him. She couldn’t really blame him for what he’d done. Oliver had asked her several times to help Drake see there was more to life than business. She hadn’t interpreted that to mean having sex, but Drake had a skewed view of the world, so who knew what he’d make of Oliver’s request. Or maybe Drake was right. Maybe Oliver’s goal wasn’t to improve Drake’s life but to test his commitment to the business. For a guy working his butt off all his life to impress his grandfather, it had to be difficult to never get a pat on the back. And for a woman who still loved him, it was hard to hate him for that.
Chapter Nineteen
Drake managed to put in several hours at the office before heading home, happy for the distraction the office created. His team was re-energized with his return, and he had confidence in what they achieved.
He entered his penthouse apartment, hoping for respite. The glow of the city diffused across his living space, allowing him to keep the lights off. He’d already loosened his tie and released the top two buttons of his shirt. He tossed his coat and briefcase onto the couch on his way to the bar and then poured two fingers of whiskey, downing it in one gulp, waiting for it to burn away the fatigue and guilt. It didn’t work. He poured another glass, this one larger, and carried it out onto the terrace.
By himself, there was nothing to keep the thoughts of Lexie and the things he’d said to her from dominating his mind. He had a nagging feeling he was wrong about her, but he brushed it aside. He couldn’t afford to let her steal any more time and energy from his goal.
Two weeks ago, he stood in this same place and determined he’
d get Oliver’s help. That seemed like a lifetime ago. Now that he was home, he expected the feelings of unrest to vanish. But they lingered like little gnats he couldn’t swipe away.
It was all Lexie’s fault. He shouldn’t have slept with her; although, he found it hard to regret it. The truth was, it was the best sex he’d ever had. The best and the most unnerving.
Everything about Lexie unnerved him. He couldn’t fathom how she could tie him up in knots and make him feel things he couldn’t understand. He’d developed an insatiable need to be with her. It wasn’t healthy to need someone like that.
When he realized she was sick on the plane, something snapped. What other conclusion could he draw by the sudden onset of nausea? Wasn’t that what happened to pregnant women? Now was not a good time to have a baby. Maybe later.
Drake stopped short. Did he really just think that? Several years ago when a woman tried to trap him with a baby, he’d made the decision to never be a father. He’d be terrible at it. So why, all of a sudden, did he entertain the idea that maybe, someday, he’d have a family?
Lexie. Damn her. Just being around her did all sorts of crazy things to his thinking. That was why he needed to be home. Why he needed to keep his distance from her. Fortunately, he’d offended her, which would make it easier to avoid her. If only the guilt at hurting her wasn’t eating him up.
A buzz from his intercom interrupted his thoughts. Going back to his door, he pressed the button.
“There’s a Marla Hines here to see you, sir.”
“Send her up.” Drake thanked the gods for sending him a distraction.
“The grapevine is buzzing with news of your return,” Marla said when Drake opened the door.
“It’s good to be home.” And it was good to see Marla, her spiky hair now red, whereas it had been silver when he left. Nearing her mid-sixties, she didn’t look much over fifty, which she attributed to sunscreen.
She’d taken Drake under her wing when he’d graduated with his MBA and started working with his grandfather ten years earlier. With Oliver’s sudden departure and the tumultuous aftermath, she’d quit, but that didn’t mean she was out of the loop. Her ties to Carmichael Corporation ran even deeper than Drake’s.
