“Mr. Chandler?”
“I’m busy.”
He was annoyed at himself for behaving like a moonstruck idiot. With great effort, he tore his eyes away from her lovely face and angrily picked up a piece of paper from his desk. It took all his self-restraint to totally ignore her.
She bit back the angry retort that sprang to her lips at his callous actions. One thing she didn’t need was to put him on the defensive. She had come to him for help, after all—help that she really didn’t deserve.
“Surely you can spare me a few moments.” Her tone indicated she would accept nothing less.
He returned the paper to his desk and reluctantly looked at her once again. He mentally scolded himself as he felt his pulse rate increase as she ran her tongue over her upper lip.
“What do you want?”
She silently cursed him for asking a question he obviously knew the answer to. You might offer me a seat first, she silently fumed.
“I’m here about Robert.”
At the mention of her brother’s name, he closed the folder in front of him and motioned for her to be seated in the chair Cam had just vacated. She was painfully aware of the intense focus of his eyes and an emotion she dared not name hidden in their now-frigid depths.
“I was wondering when he would send you in to plead his case.” In fact, he had been counting on it.
Her spine stiffened in the soft leather chair and quickly contradicted him. “He didn’t. I came on my own to ask you not to press charges against him.”
He smiled slightly at that. “You must be as mad as your brother is if you think I’m going to allow him to embezzle $100,000 from my campaign fund and just walk away, free as a bird.”
“If you will just let me explain…” She squared her shoulders for a fight she had known was inevitable.
“There’s no explanation you have that I am interested in hearing. He took the money—that’s all I need to know.”
“Regardless, I’m going to tell you the reason my brother borrowed the money from you.”
His eyes narrowed at the slight edge evident in her tone. What did she have to be bent out of shape about? He was the one who had been wronged by her brother—and by her. What right did she have to treat him as the villain or even to be here asking anything of him?
“Borrowed? That’s an interesting choice of words. Go on. Tell me, why did your brother borrow the money?” He crossed his arms across his broad chest, drawing attention to his muscular physique.
She had the feeling she was wasting her time, but she had to try, for her family’s sake. Maybe he would be sympathetic once he learned why Robert had stolen from him. At least she prayed he would.
“Well?” he prompted. “Let me guess. He used it to bet on the ponies.” At her blank stare he tried again. “The slots? Sports? Cards?”
“I don’t approve of my brother’s actions.”
“Neither do I and I intend to make my disapproval a matter of public record by filing charges against him.” When she remained silent, he continued, “I don’t know what you hoped to accomplish by coming here.” Except to remind me of what you needlessly snatched away from me—from both of us—two years ago.
At this moment neither did she. “I thought I could make you understand.”
“Did your brother take my money?”
“Yes.” The single word was spoken through gritted teeth.
“Was it his money to take?” He continued in the same no-nonsense courtroom tone.
“You know it wasn’t!” She felt like a petulant child he was taking great pleasure in chastising.
Yes, Robert had been wrong to take Derrick’s money, but couldn’t he show a little compassion? She wondered how much of his unbending attitude had more to do with her past actions than with Robert’s thievery.
He had been dreaming of and dreading this moment for two long years. Against his will, he noticed those heavenly eyes of hers sparkle as her temper rose, making her even more beautiful, more desirable. His inappropriate observations annoyed him, making his next words clipped and terse.
“By your own admission, and your brother’s, he committed a crime—a felony. What more do I need to understand?” He opened the folder on his desk again, dismissing her.
“Robert’s sorry.”
He laughed without humor. “I’m sure he is, now that he’s been caught.”
She was favored with another of his piercing gazes. And somehow resisted the almost irrepressible urge to run as fast and as far from him as her legs could carry her. Even after two years, he still unnerved her completely while he seemed completely unaffected by seeing her again. No, that wasn’t true. He was angry, but not at her brother.
“He knows what he did was wrong.”
“Well, that’s very touching, but it doesn’t replace my $100,000, does it?”
He was tired of talking about her brother and would much rather talk about her. What had she done in the two years they had been apart? Had she missed him? Had she second-guessed and third-guessed her fateful decision that had ruined both of their lives? Had she spent sleepless nights wondering where he was and whom he was with? He hoped so. Because against his better judgment, he had thought about her often—about the satisfying relationship they could and should have been enjoying during that time, if only she hadn’t destroyed things between them.
He was disheartened to learn that despite her betrayal, she still had the power to move him and make him want to rewrite their story to his satisfaction. Why couldn’t they turn back the clock and be meeting coincidentally for the first time? Why did they have to be enemies by virtue of their past relationship?
She remembered him as caring, compassionate and passionate. He had made her feel as if she were the most important person in the world to him. He had made her want to lose herself in him. He had both thrilled and frightened her. Where had that Derrick Chandler gone? Had she somehow destroyed him? If she had, why did that thought disturb her so much?
“I have a lot of work to do.”
He needed to get her out of here before he made a complete fool of himself. He didn’t like where his memories were leading him or how hard he had to fight to keep himself from touching her. She had nearly ruined his life, and he shouldn’t want anything to do with her, should he?
“We’ll pay you back.”
He sighed fully before giving her his full attention again. “When?”
“As soon as we can.” At his dubious look she nearly shouted, “You don’t need the money. You don’t even miss it!”
“That’s not the point.”
The coldest eyes she had ever encountered locked on hers. She forced herself not to retreat from his frigid gaze—she knew from past experience he could utterly melt a woman’s heart and resistance without even trying. After all this time, he still unnerved her. He made her feel completely raw and vulnerable.
“So, what is the point?”
“Your brother took something that belonged to me. No one does that without suffering the consequences—no one.”
The darkening of her eyes let him know that his reference to their relationship was not lost on her.
“How can you be so heartless?”
“Look, I didn’t ask your brother to embezzle funds from me, and I didn’t ask you to come here today, pleading with me to show mercy to someone who should be—no, who will be—prosecuted.”
Why didn’t she leave and stop torturing him with her very presence? Lord, what had he done in his life to deserve this?
“I don’t know what else to say.” She closed her eyes as if seeking divine intervention.
Unable to bear staring at her beauty another second, he swiveled his chair to look out the huge wall-to-wall windows. “You can sho
w yourself out.”
She quickly weighed telling him the real reason Robert had embezzled from him. It had nothing to do with gambling, as he had suggested. If he knew Robert’s actions were motivated out of love, not greed, would it change his attitude? Would the truth soften his hard heart? She didn’t want to bare her soul to him, but if it would save her brother, she didn’t have a choice in the matter.
“Won’t you please just listen to me?” She faced the back of his head. “Robert’s not what you think. He took the money because…”
He swiveled in his chair and held up a hand to forestall the remainder of her explanation. He’d had enough and needed her to leave.
“Alesha, I don’t care why Robert took the money—all that matters is that he’s an embezzler! Nothing you have to say will change that or make me change my mind about pressing charges against him. I’ve heard you out, now goodbye.”
She quickly stood, realizing she was wasting her time. There was no use in trying to appeal to his better nature. His words made that perfectly clear and she had no intention of giving him the satisfaction of watching her beg.
She snatched up her purse. “What happened to you? How did you become so cold?”
“I am what people like you have made me.”
God, she was torturing him. Her very presence tormented him; yet she also made him feel like he hadn’t felt in a long, long time, and he was angry and unsettled by that.
“You are what you want to be.” She was angry with herself and with her absurd reaction to seeing him again. “I’m sorry I wasted your time.” She turned and walked toward the door.
“Alesha?”
He spoke her name softly, almost caressingly. She felt it run down her spine like soothing, exciting fingers of desire—the sensation stopped her in her tracks. She prayed he would stop being so informal with her because the way he said her name—intimately, for her alone—was destroying her. How could a man’s voice stroke her in forbidden places so forcefully that she wanted nothing more than to be utterly immersed in him?
She was about to walk out. However, despite his better judgment, he didn’t want her to go. What was it about Alesha Robinson that had always sent his blood simmering and then, just as quickly, boiling out of control?
She turned turbulent eyes on him. “We don’t have anything else to say to each other.”
“You started this, Alesha.” He arrogantly lifted an eyebrow before deliberately adding, “And I’m going to finish it.”
“We’re done.”
She turned to leave again, not just because he annoyed and angered her, but because there was something about Derrick Chandler that was setting off small explosions of awareness within her entire body. Her legs felt wobbly and her heart ached for something that had once been within her grasp and now seemed light-years away. She needed some air; she had to get out of here before she made a complete fool of herself.
“What if I told you that I wouldn’t press charges against your brother?” His unexpected words halted her departure.
Had she heard him correctly? She turned and her puzzled gaze encountered his.
“What did you say?”
“I think you heard me.”
“Don’t toy with me.”
An arrogant half smile turned up the corners of his mouth at her chastising tone.
“I never play, unless I choose the game and am assured of victory.”
She believed him. He was a man used to getting his way—always, except once with her. She slowly walked back until she was standing in front of his desk again.
“So you’re serious about letting Robert off the hook?”
“Yes.”
Something in his tone worried her, yet she stood her ground. She had the feeling she would regret her next question, but she had to ask it.
“What do you want in return?”
He stood and slowly walked until he was standing in front of her, so close that their bodies were almost touching. She resisted a strong impulse to turn and run or take the few steps necessary to bring them breast to breast. She faced him unwaveringly as she waited apprehensively for his response.
His eyes roamed over her from head to toe. His blatant inspection made her feel as if she were a piece of prime meat he was preparing to devour with that wicked mouth of his. Her heart began to beat erratically, not from fear, but from another emotion just as strong.
“Something only you can give me.”
“Which is what?” She tilted her head up his tall frame, staring at him uneasily.
He continued to subject her to his slow scrutiny, his eyes lingering long on her moist, slightly parted lips, before lifting to meet her eyes once again. His thorough examination was more disquieting than anything she could have imagined he would say. However, his next words proved her wrong.
“I want you,” he answered truthfully.
Chapter 2
He was unblinking and serious as he continued staring into her huge, horrified eyes. After a few seconds of silence, he laughed out loud at her apparent shock. He knew his declaration was the last thing she had expected to hear—it was honestly the last thing he had expected to utter.
She didn’t make a move as his brief laughter reverberated in the quiet office before silence returned. He said nothing further and she was unable to respond. Instead, she stared at him unblinkingly, a hand slowly going to her suddenly constricted throat while her heart thudded loudly.
When she finally found her voice it was hushed and strained. “You can’t be serious!”
“Can’t I?”
She searched his face for signs that he was being facetious, yet found none. Still, he had to be joking. Her other hand moved to her throbbing temple and she tried to laugh dismissively—she couldn’t have heard him correctly.
“I must have misunderstood you.”
“Did you?” His piercing eyes studied her face carefully.
“Did you say that you want…me?” She forced herself to repeat his ridiculous statement.
“You understand me correctly.”
“What do you mean by want?” As she articulated the question, she was petrified of his response.
“Want. A transitive verb meaning to desire, to have need for, to crave.”
Every word he used to describe his meaning brought vivid pictures to her mind. She swallowed hard to dispel the lump that had rapidly risen in her throat, but to no avail. She stared at the man in front of her, amusement still twinkling in his eyes. Yet, underneath the levity lurked something else—a seriousness that terrified her.
“Are you saying you expect me to…you expect us to…that you want…”
She couldn’t force herself to finish that sentence.
“I want you to marry me.”
“Marry you?” She sank into the chair she had vacated earlier.
“What did you think I meant?” He studied her distraught face carefully. “Alesha, you didn’t think I wanted us to live together in sin, did you?”
“Why do you want to marry me?” She needed a cold compress for her head.
“Because I need a wife.” He reclined against his desk.
“You need a wife?” She paused before continuing. “Why?”
“According to my campaign manager, it would be good for me to be seen as a family man, and having a wife would equip me with a full-time hostess and date.”
He took no pleasure in reiterating Cam’s earlier words. Although seeing the woman who had single-handedly ruined his life two years ago in acute distress was very gratifying, indeed.
“How romantic.”
Her dry tones made his eyebrow rise slightly—he had no clue how she managed to be sarcastic at a time like this.
“You once made it clear that you didn’t want romance from me. Has that changed?”
“Do you always do what others tell you?” She deliberately sidestepped his previous question.
“Never.” He firmly shook his head.
“Then why start now?”
She couldn’t marry him—or anyone else—under these circumstances. The very idea was absurd!
“I’ve already answered that question.” His face was unreadable.
“Have you?”
Of course, he didn’t tell her that until she had walked through his office door, he had no intention of agreeing to Cam’s suggestion. Even having put the proposal on the table, he couldn’t believe he had done so. Yet, there had always been something about her—something that sparked a chord inside him. He was dismayed to learn his reaction to her hadn’t dissipated with the time they had spent apart—time she had forced them to spend apart, he angrily went over in his mind. Despite his better judgment, he still wanted her, and this time he was determined to have her—all of her.
“You don’t even like me.”
She waited for him to respond but he remained silent. Slowly, he smiled without humor and neither denied nor confirmed her observation. Lord, she wished she had never come here today! She had thought, prayed, that time would have healed old wounds. However, it was painfully apparent it had not. He obviously wanted nothing to do with her, but if that was true, why was he suggesting that they get married?
“‘Like’ is irrelevant, Alesha.”
“How can you say that? How can you suggest that we get married?”
“I told you why already.”
He sighed, his tone implying he had no desire to explain his reasons to her again or to justify them to himself.
She lowered her aching head into her hands and willed herself to wake up from this nightmare. However, when she raised her head again, the man in front of her had not vanished, as she had hoped. Rather, his presence was undeniable as he watched her closely.
These Arms of Mine Page 2
