It had been the most amazing experience of my life and then he’d dismissed me as if I was nothing.
Yeah. Nothing you didn’t deserve.
The guilt I always carried with me whispered in my head, insidious and bitter, but I shoved it away. This had nothing to do with Dad’s death or my role in it.
No, this was all to do with Xander and the past two days of him ignoring me, striding past me at work as if I didn’t exist. Emailing me lists of tasks and not even bothering to speak to me about them.
And when I was the one who had to speak to him, he wouldn’t look at me. He kept his attention on his computer screen or out of the window or on his phone. Basically, he looked anywhere else but at me.
It made my anger a hard, sharp, bright thing that I wanted to cut him with. I wanted to hurt him the way he’d hurt me.
He’d made me feel like nothing. Less than nothing. Like so many other people had in my life...
You are nothing.
‘Bastard,’ I muttered to the walls of my bedroom, loud enough to drown out that horrible voice in my head. ‘Asshole.’
I wasn’t going to be able to sleep and I couldn’t even draw in my book, because the prick had kept it. I’d asked him about it the day after he’d had me over his desk and he’d told me he’d give it back once I’d finished working for him. That I couldn’t be trusted not to sketch in it while I was supposed to be doing my job.
I should have demanded it back, but I was determined to show him how little I cared about him and the way he was treating me, so I’d simply shrugged and hadn’t mentioned it again.
But that hadn’t stopped the fury from filling my veins.
I’d never been so angry in all my life.
Of course pacing around my tiny, shitty bedroom wasn’t going to help, and neither was pretending this didn’t matter. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to let this go until I’d yelled at him face to face.
Obviously the answer was to go to his house and yell at him in person.
Yes, it was eleven p.m., but too bad. He was the one who’d seduced me and then ignored me. He could deal with me confronting him late at night and having it out with him.
He’s not going to like it. And what about that reference?
Ah yes, that.
I stopped pacing, my hands curled into fists.
If I wanted to get that reference I shouldn’t do it. I should suck it up and handle the fact that he’d only wanted from me what every other guy I’d ever met wanted from me: sex.
Because, after all, why did it matter? So I’d confessed to some embarrassing stuff. So what? If I truly didn’t care what he thought, it wouldn’t bother me.
Yet it did. It bothered me a lot.
God, how stupid. I didn’t know why I cared about his good opinion. Sure, the sex had been mind-blowing and he’d been a prick afterwards, but lots of guys were pricks afterwards.
You know why. You expected him to be different.
My throat got tight. Maybe I had. He’d told me he’d wanted me for years and then he’d gone on to work me up like he already knew what I liked and didn’t have to ask.
And that had mattered.
As if he’d cared enough to study me and my reactions, gauging what I might like and what I didn’t. Jesus, even having a guy be interested enough to get me off instead of taking what he wanted was a change.
Which made him dismissing me at the end of it feel like...a betrayal of some kind. Not to mention that it didn’t make any sense.
He’d wanted me for years and one screw and that was it? Really?
Determination settled down inside me.
No, I couldn’t let this go, not this time. I had to know what was going on with him. I had to know where I stood. Because I sure as hell wasn’t going back to work with him ignoring me the way he was.
Someone had to confront him and clearly that someone was going to have to be me.
And if he threatened to hold that reference over my head instead of talking it through like a normal human being? Well. He wasn’t the man I thought he was.
God, he wasn’t the man I thought he was already.
What kind of man did you think he was?
I ignored that question, too impatient now to have it out with him.
Grabbing my battered denim jacket and my handbag, I headed out, deciding to taxi it into the city.
Xander’s apartment was in some massive tower block near the Opera House, probably worth millions. Getting in there was going to be a problem since I was in a faded T-shirt and jeans, my holey sneakers on my feet. Not exactly high class.
I was too angry to care though. If I couldn’t get in I’d stand in the foyer and dial his stupid phone every ten seconds until he let me up into his apartment.
Taking no chances, I texted him just before the taxi driver dropped me off, telling him I was coming to see him and if he wanted me to keep working at his stupid company he was going to talk to me.
Otherwise I’d quit.
He didn’t respond.
That might have been because he was sleeping, but when I got out of the car and looked up to the top floor where his apartment was, there were lights on. He was awake; I’d lay money on it.
I stormed into the building’s foyer and approached the concierge desk, all ready to argue. But the man behind the desk simply gestured towards the lifts.
‘You can go on up, Ms Valentine.’
It took the wind out of my sails a bit but, standing in the lift as it made its way up to Xander’s floor, I managed to muster up some more outrage. Enough that by the time the doors opened I was as furious as I had been back home.
There was a small hallway outside the lift that led straight to the door of Xander’s apartment and I strode up to it, lifting my finger to press the buzzer.
But, before I could, the door pulled open and there was Xander, standing on the threshold.
And my heart stopped. Literally stopped.
He filled the doorway, tall, broad, commanding. He was in black suit trousers and a simple white shirt with no tie, the top couple of buttons undone. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing muscular, tanned forearms and for some reason I found that one of the sexiest things I’d ever seen.
He was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.
My body hummed, remembering what had happened between us two days earlier, the way it had been doing for two days straight now, driving me absolutely crazy.
I didn’t need the reminder. I didn’t want the reminder. But, like Pavlov’s dog, all I had to do was set eyes on Xander, remember how he’d touched me, what it felt like to have him make me beg then thrust inside me, and I was a quivering wreck.
He leaned one of those sexy forearms on the doorframe and tilted his head to the side, black eyes staring into mine.
He didn’t say a word yet I flushed, immediately hating myself for it. Part of me wanted to thank him for seeing me, but I crushed that part flat. I was not going to thank him for anything.
‘I want to talk to you,’ I announced belligerently.
‘Clearly.’ His voice was cold. ‘What’s the problem, Poppy?’
‘I’m not having that conversation out here.’
‘You’re not having it in here either.’
I took a step towards him, fury burning inside me. ‘Why not? Scared you might suddenly want to rip my clothes off and make me beg again?’
Heat flared in his eyes at the same time as his mouth hardened, and I knew he hadn’t meant to give away the fact that my suggestion had turned him on.
A deep satisfaction filled me, along with something that felt like relief. He’d ignored me so completely the past two days that I’d been beginning to question whether he’d ever wanted me at all.
But it seemed that he did, which was good. I could use that.
He shifted in t
he doorway but didn’t move, keeping one forearm against the frame while his body blocked the rest of it. ‘Go home,’ he said flatly. ‘I’ve got nothing to say to you.’
‘Obviously you don’t.’ I took another step closer until we were inches apart. ‘In fact, for the past two days you’ve been doing a very good job of acting like I don’t exist at all.’
‘Does it matter?’ His face was expressionless and yet somehow his dark eyes burned. ‘You don’t like me anyway.’
‘Is that what this let’s ignore Poppy thing is all about? You have sex with me then dismiss me like dirt because you think I don’t like you? What are you? Twelve?’
His mouth hardened even further, the embers of banked anger glowing in his eyes. And, in that moment, all I could think about was blowing on those embers, making them glow brighter, turning them into flames. I wanted to get beneath his control and unleash the passion I’d seen in his office. I wanted to have him concentrate that passion on me.
He did want me. He did.
‘I didn’t...dismiss you.’ There was a slight note of hesitancy in his deep, dark voice. ‘I’m sorry you interpreted it that way.’
‘Well, how else was I supposed to interpret it?’ I demanded. ‘You gave me the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had, made me confess my most secret fantasies to you, then acted like it was nothing. You told me to get on with my work and didn’t speak to me again for two days. Two days!’ I was shaking all of a sudden, full of remembered shame and anger. ‘You made me feel like I was nothing, Xander. And you know what? People have been doing that all my goddamn life and I’m sick of it!’
His gaze narrowed, the look on his beautiful face suddenly intense.
I was aware of what I’d said and of what that had revealed.
God, I was a bloody idiot. What did I expect, confronting him like this? What did I want from him? An apology? A repeat performance?
For him to take you in his arms and hold you? Make you feel like you’re actually worth something?
My chest ached. No, screw that. I was worth something and I didn’t need him to prove it to me. Which made coming here a huge mistake.
He didn’t care that he’d hurt me. He didn’t even want to discuss it. And now I’d revealed how much his dismissal had affected me.
What a stupid thing to do.
I turned sharply without a word, intending to leave.
Until long fingers closed around my upper arm, jerking me to a stop. And then there was heat at my back, warm breath against the side of my neck.
‘You’re not nothing, Poppy,’ he said quietly, fiercely. ‘If you were, you wouldn’t make me so goddamn furious.’
I was trembling and I couldn’t stop. I felt the pressure of his fingers around my upper arm, holding me still, the heat of them burning through my denim jacket. I felt the tantalising warmth of him behind me, his body probably only inches away.
For a moment nothing happened and there was a thick silence.
The tension between us pulled taut.
‘You shouldn’t have come here.’ His voice had become darker, rougher. ‘You should have stayed away from me. But you didn’t, did you? You had to come and tell me that it matters to you.’ His fingers tightened around my arm very slightly. ‘That what we did matters to you.’
My heart raced, the deep note of command, of warning in the words making me breathless, the hum that vibrated throughout my body getting stronger.
‘That was a mistake, Poppy. There are reasons I put you at a distance and one of those reasons is because there are many things I want to do to you and all of them are wrong. Very, very wrong.’
I shivered, tried to swallow to ease my dry throat. ‘But...how can they be wrong if I want them too?’
‘I was afraid you’d say that.’ His mouth was very near my ear, the warmth of his breath making the blood rush hard in my veins. ‘Get inside,’ he ordered.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Xander
SHE STIFFENED AND I thought I’d made a mistake and read her wrong, that she didn’t want this after all. And I was all prepared to let her go, let her walk away from me the way I should have done the first time and hadn’t.
But then she gave a little sniff and turned towards my apartment. And when I released her, she walked right inside.
Instantly I was hard, desperate.
I should never have opened the door to her. Should never have let the concierge usher her upstairs to me.
I should have ignored her text and continued with my search for her father’s money, the way I’d been doing all evening.
I’d had to bring work home because doing it at the office while she was around had been damn near impossible. Even having her in a separate room was no good—I couldn’t concentrate, knowing she was right outside my office door, with her perfect, curvy little body and those molten copper eyes.
I’d hoped that telling Leon what had happened with her father would rid me of this need for her, and that he’d agree with me that she had to be kept at a distance.
But he’d told me I was being ridiculous. That I couldn’t blame myself for a choice a man had made for himself.
Yes, an action that I’d taken had resulted in her father’s death, but I hadn’t known that. I’d been fifteen. I hadn’t known that the financial game my father had been playing with me had been real, not until I was twenty, and it was a guilt I’d been carrying around for a good ten years.
I’d decided not to tell Leon what I wanted to do with that man’s daughter. How wrong it was. And how much she’d eventually hate me once she knew. Not that she didn’t hate me already for the way I’d treated her.
But then, I simply hadn’t been able to deal with her any other way and hate was easier to handle.
People were difficult, complicated. I’d always felt more comfortable with numbers, with money. They didn’t require an emotional response from me or demand that I do things for them.
Or take care of them.
I couldn’t take care of anyone, not people. That much I did know. I couldn’t and I didn’t want to.
But...taking care of Poppy right now, in my apartment, well...maybe that I could do. Sex—even the kind of sex that I wanted—was simple at least.
And, apart from anything else, I’d known ignoring her would hurt her and it had. But I’d never thought it would hurt her that much. It made me feel like shit. Made me feel like I had to make it up to her somehow.
She was standing just inside the door, facing me, her eyes wide, heat glinting in the depths. There was anger, yes, and something more.
I shut the door behind me then stepped in front of her, deliberately looming over her, trying to intimidate her.
The heat in her eyes flared hotter.
She liked this. She liked it when I took charge.
And shit, so did I.
‘You know what you’re doing, bad girl?’ I took another step, even closer. ‘That by coming inside you’re saying you want more of what we did in my office?’
She lifted her chin, obviously determined not to retreat. ‘I thought I wouldn’t, not after the way you treated me. But... I changed my mind.’ Her delicious, biteable mouth had firmed, her gaze roaming over me as if she couldn’t decide what part of me she wanted to touch first. ‘Yes. I want it.’
‘It’ll just be for one night. That’s all I can do.’
‘One night is all I want.’
‘Ah, but you don’t even know what that means yet, not really.’ I came even closer, inches away, making her aware of how much taller I was, how much broader. How much more powerful. ‘Not when you have no idea of the things I want to do to you.’
Her breath caught. I heard it. The pulse at the base of her throat was fluttering, and for the briefest moment I wanted to brush my mouth over it. Just lightly. I wanted to taste her excitement and her desire.
>
For me.
Something possessive and dark turned over in my gut. ‘You want to do this with any other man? Or is it just me?’
‘J-Just you,’ she said thickly, holding my gaze. ‘I didn’t... I don’t trust anyone else enough.’
The possessive feeling roared up inside me even as I felt my stomach drop away.
She trusted me? Why the fuck would she do that? When I’d done nothing but be cold and distant towards her for years?
Still, I was the only one. She hadn’t wanted this with any other man.
And she never will again. It will always be you. Only and ever you.
It sounded like a vow in my head and I couldn’t figure out where it had come from. I didn’t want to be the only one for her. There wasn’t going to be anything permanent about this or even long-term. One night—that was all I could do.
Ruin her for other men...
Yes, that appealed to me. That appealed to me very much indeed.
‘It’s good that you trust me,’ I murmured, taking another step, and this time she took a tiny step back. ‘It’s good because tonight you’re mine.’ I lifted one hand and slid my fingers into the cloud of her soft black hair then curled them into a fist, tugging her head back. ‘Tonight, I’m your master.’
As I’d hoped, the word made the heat in her eyes flare.
‘Do you understand?’ I went on softly. ‘Do you know what I mean by that?’
‘Yes. I do whatever you say, right?’
‘That’s right.’ Lowering my head, I looked down into those beautiful, fascinating eyes. ‘Tonight you’ll be my little fuck toy and I’ll do whatever I want with you. Tell me you understand.’
Her breathing had become uneven, the flush in her cheeks deepening.
Jesus, she was so unbelievably beautiful she made my heart ache.
‘I...understand.’
Satisfaction curled through me and, along with it, a kind of wonder that she’d agreed to this. That she was going to give herself to me. I’d never asked for this from any woman before—never thought I’d want it. But I did. I wanted it so badly I ached.
To have someone who was mine. Mine completely...
King’s Rule Page 9
