by ANDREA SMITH
“Darcy, guess what?”
“What?” I responded hesitantly.
“Taz just told me Darin got transferred. You wanna guess where?”
I felt my heart start beating again knowing her ‘big’ news had nothing to do with Easton.
“I give—where?”
“A freaking satellite office in Fairbanks, Alaska!”
Well that’s a bit anti-climactic…
“Really?”
“Oh yeah. And he’s freaking pissed about it, too.”
“Hmm,” I replied, twisting my hair. “Well, maybe he put in for a transfer on account of me breaking his heart. I mean, you don’t work for the FBI and get much farther away from DC than that.”
We both giggled in unison. I knew the truth, though. I wasn’t sure how he’d managed it, but this had all the earmarks of something accomplished by my incredibly controlling and possessive Easton.
“So, anything new with you?” she pried.
“Nope. It’s all good for now. I’ll call you when that changes, Lindsey.”
I heard her give me a one-syllable laugh. “I get the hint. That’s all I wanted to tell you anyway. Talk to you soon.”
I shared the latest news with Eli as I helped him clean up the dishes. He was snickering in delight. “You know, dude deserves going there and freezing his cheating balls off,” he said with a laugh. “Hey, you’ve gotta know your man had something to do with that.”
“I think I’m going to take a leisurely bath and then get to bed,” I said, yawning, and thinking at the same time how I kind of loved when someone referred to Easton as being mine.
“It’s only eight o’clock, Darce.”
“I know,” I said, smacking Eli’s behind. “But the way I figure it, the sooner to bed, the earlier tomorrow gets here and I get to see ‘my man’.”
Eli made the finger down his throat gagging gesture as I left to go upstairs.
An hour later and freshly showered, I crawled beneath my sheets and drifted into a restful sleep. I thought it was the next morning when I awoke until I realized it was still pitch dark out and it wasn’t the irritating buzzing from my alarm clock that had awakened me, but the sound of loud voices from downstairs.
Shit!
I hoped it wasn’t Eli and Cain arguing. They’d never done that before, but these were clearly male voices.
“Dude, it’s fucking two in the morning and you’ve already woke my ass up. You’re not waking her ass up too,” Eli said in an extremely loud voice.
“I’ll see her right now, or your fucking arse is fired, Mr. Chambers.”
Easton.
I scrambled out of my bed and rushed through the hallway and down the stairs.
“What the hell’s going on?” I said, my voice quivering. Why was Easton here? Why did he look drunk? What the fuck’s going on?
“Evening, babe,” Easton, said, a clumsy smile adorning his face.
“He’s trashed,” Eli said, waving his hand. “I can’t believe you didn’t hear him leaning on the doorbell.”
“I’ve got it, Eli,” I said. “Go on back to bed.”
“You sure?”
I nodded, walking over to where Easton was now leaning against the closed front door. Eli gave me a second look, debating as to whether to leave me down there with Easton. I nodded to him again and he reluctantly went back upstairs.
“Easton, it’s the middle of the night,” I explained to him, wrapping my bare arms around myself against the downstairs chill.
“I’m still on Paris time, love. Its morning,” he said and then laughed. “Time to get your arse up and outta bed.”
“No,” I replied, carefully. “I’m taking this arse back to bed because, you see, I’m on U.S. time and it’s still the middle of the night. Now, what can I do for you?”
“Not a thing. Just wanted to come by and let you know I was back is all.” Even in his stupor, he gave my body a slow perusal, looking like he wanted to devour me right then and there.
“Easton,” I said, interrupting those thoughts. Upon hearing his name, his eyes traveled back to my face and that’s when I noticed it. I’d seen him drunk before, but that’s when he was angry. This time his guard was completely shot. The emotionless façade he usually wore was absent, and he appeared vulnerable at the moment. Something had unhinged him.
“Do you want to sleep with me tonight?” I asked softly, forgetting what I initially was going to tell him.
“Do you mind, love? I’m in need of company, it seems,” he halfway slurred.
“I am, too,” I said, moving closer to him. He threw his arm around my shoulders and we trudged upstairs to my room. Easton quickly shed his clothes and crawled beneath the covers, drawing me up against him.
“You know, I’ve not been with anyone else since you,” he murmured against my neck. “God knows I’ve wanted to, but whatever the fuck it is about you has kept me from it. It’s bloody rubbish, too.”
“Really,” I whispered back. “I kind of think it’s nice. I love you too, Easton.”
I felt his soft, warm lips kissing my neck and my special spot he savored beneath my ear. He pulled me closer against him, his arms wrapped around me possessively. Several minutes later, I heard his deep, even breathing. He was at rest…for the moment.
chapter 43
My morning sickness was back with a vengeance Tuesday morning. I barely made it to the bathroom before hurling. I was still kneeling in front of the toilet when Easton came sauntering in the bathroom looking gorgeously disheveled—and gorgeously naked.
“Are you alright?” he asked, raking a hand through his tousled hair.
I looked up from the toilet as I pushed the handle to flush it. “I must have that stomach bug that’s being going around at work,” I lied. “Better keep your distance.”
He grabbed a clean wash cloth from the shelf and ran cold water over it, squeezing out the excess. He knelt down, lifting my hair and pressed the coolness against the back of my neck.
“Easton,” I said in a low voice. “You’re standing there naked. Eli and I share this bathroom, you know?”
“I’m sure it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before,” he replied, giving me a wicked smile.
“Still,” I said, gesturing at his lower and impressive…regions, “I’d prefer he not get the full, panoramic view, if you don’t mind.”
Easton helped me up from the floor.
“I don’t want you coming in to work today,” he said briskly. “You’re to stay in bed and rest until you kick whatever it is that’s ailing you, is that understood?”
That could be a while…
“Yes, sir,” I said, trying my best to present him with a smile. He went back to my bedroom, giving me some privacy while I finished up in the bathroom.
When I got back to my room, he was sitting on the bed, fully dressed, putting his shoes and socks on.
“So,” I said, “I got the summarization finished yesterday. It’s on our shared drive.”
“Excellent,” he said, looking around for his other sock on the floor.
“How was your trip?” I asked, cautiously.
“You saw the minutes of the meetings and the figures. It went well.”
“I meant your trip to Paris,” I replied, studying his reaction.
He immediately looked up at me from where he’d been putting his other sock on. “Why do you ask?”
“No reason,” I faltered. “I just wasn’t sure if you had anything for me to summarize on that meeting. Did you send more files?”
“No,” he replied abruptly. “My trip there was personal business, meaning it’s none of yours.”
“Sorry,” I said, climbing back into bed. “I wasn’t trying to be nosy.”
Easton stood up, rubbing his sexily unshaven face. “I’ve got to go back to my suite to shower and change. I’ll phone you later to see how you’re feeling.”
“You know, if I feel better later, I’ll go a
head and come in to work.”
“No. You’re to do as I instructed. No need in passing whatever bug you’ve picked up on to the rest of the staff. It hinders productivity.”
You’ve no idea…
“Okay, whatever,” I said, mentally flipping him off. “You’re pretty grouchy this morning for being the one that interrupted my sleep—not to mention Eli’s.”
His expression softened momentarily. “I blame it on jet lag and too much bourbon on the trip back. Am I forgiven?”
“I’ll think about it,” I said, hugging my pillow to me.
He leaned over the bed, brushing a soft kiss on my forehead. “Don’t pout, baby,” he gently admonished. “I’ll make it up to you when you’re feeling better, I promise.”
With that, he was gone. Leaving me laying there wondering where that vulnerability I’d glimpsed the night before had gone. Probably tucked away with the rest of the emotions he kept securely locked up in the back of his mind.
Ten minutes later, Eli was in my room asking for the skinny on what had happened during the night.
“I didn’t hear the sounds of any squeaking bed, so I guess that means our shit-faced boss couldn’t get it up, huh?” He let out an overly enthused sigh. “Happens to the best of us, really.”
“Eli,” I said, rolling my eyes, “all we did was sleep. Then, of course, this morning he witnessed my stomach bug.”
“You’re gonna have to tell him sometime, Darce. Is that the only thing you haven’t told him?”
I wasn’t about to tell anyone what I’d seen on that e-mail string. I was halfway ashamed I’d seen it. Easton clearly wasn’t going to fill me in on it. Trust issues I guess.
“As far as I know,” I shrugged, lying. I shimmied down deeper into my bed. “Anyway,” I continued, yawning, “I think I’m going to get a little more sleep while I can.”
He gave me a sympathetic smile. “Okay, sweets. I’ll see you when I get home. Feel better.”
If only I could…
chapter 44
~ Easton ~
Bloody hell. I’d acted like a twat going over to Darcy’s place at two a.m. and causing a ruckus with her roommate. What the hell had I been thinking? I’d needed to be close to her and, somehow, she’d understood. This feeling of needing someone for comfort was foreign to me. It was a sign of weakness. I’d been told that over and over again as a child.
As I reflected back, I realised that Trace Matthews, Sr. was a good man. His second wife, Constance, was very good to me as well, never showing favouritism amongst her children over me while I visited, always making me feel welcome and secure. God knew I’d taxed their patience on numerous occasions, simply for the sport of it.
My mother had always complained upon my return that it would take months to get things with me back to normal again. She hated that I’d been given chores to do, the same as Trace and Paige during what she termed was supposed to be my “summer holiday.” I hadn’t minded doing the chores. I respected how hard my father worked at his bottling plant and, for once, I felt as if I fit in somewhere. Ultimately, that feeling would wear off once I returned to England and had grandparents and a host of servants fussing over me.
The first person I’d ever intentionally hurt was my younger half-brother, Trace. It was the summer before my freshman year of college. I’d wanted to spend it in Napa with my father to avoid all the matchmaking my mother was conducting with various British socialites. Trace had just turned sixteen at the time and was driving. He was also courting his first love, Brittany something-or-other. He was head-over-heels in love, though I tried to counsel him it was simply a case of lust. He’d assured me it wasn’t. She was still a virgin at nearly seventeen. She’d been putting him off, telling him she wanted to wait to make sure they were really in love and committed to one another. I’d scoffed at the ludicrous notion, telling him to wise-up, it was simply a matter of him not taking charge of the relationship and being unfamiliar with the art of seduction.
I took it upon myself to show my younger brother the errors of underestimating the female mind and libido. I’d learned this lesson myself at the age of fifteen when my mother had encouraged one of her friends at the club to properly teach me how to please a woman. I’d accompanied Margaret Middleton on a long weekend to the French Riviera. It had been a very educationally charged weekend for me. So, having that in mind, I decided to pay a visit of my own to Brittany Something-Or-Other’s house. Suffice it to say, her cherry didn’t remain intact after my third secret visit and she was literally begging me to fuck her daily until I left. By this time, I had grown bored with the whole game and admitted as much.
Unfortunately, Brittany succumbed to a major guilt trip, confessing everything to Trace, sobbing and crying for his forgiveness. When our father returned home late that afternoon from his company, he found Trace and I in the front yard, beating each other to a pulp, whilst Paige stood nearby, screaming hysterically for both of us to stop. The rest of my summer visit was a bit strained. Before I’d left to return to Europe, my father had sat me down and asked what had motivated me to hurt my younger brother that way. I’d shrugged and said it was better he find out now she had the heart of a whore and toughen himself up for the road ahead. I recalled how he’d looked at me, not understanding how callous I’d become at eighteen…
Only now, I knew the truth: Trace Matthews Sr. wasn’t my father. He’d known that shortly after my birth. As far as I was concerned, he deserved my hatred every bit as much as my blasted mother.
When I’d phoned him at her urging to validate her story, he’d become upset, reluctant to confirm what she’d told me in her e-mail. He’d finally realised I was relentless, so he admitted the truth, telling me some shit about my not being his son by blood, but certainly being his son by love. What the fuck? Love’s such a fleeting emotion, triggered by a host of temporary human cravings/desires: acceptance, security, carnal satisfaction, self-esteem, comfort, procreation, and money.
When I stopped to think about it, I realised I didn’t need love to satisfy any of those cravings or desires for myself. My wealth pretty much guaranteed acceptance, security, comfort and carnal satisfaction. I didn’t give a worry about self-esteem as long as I had the rest. Procreation was no longer a desire or dream for me. In light of the recent turn of events, I was thankful Bianca had taken the path she had several years back. I was grateful my lineage would stop with me. It was a burden I’d wish upon no one else, bastard child or otherwise.
Once I reached the office, I was relieved Darcy wouldn’t be in her adjoining office to distract me. I had the summation to put together and review, and then there were plans to be made, transitioning of resources. I was going to move my office. This game with Darcy was over.
I needed to leave, and not because I didn’t love her, but because I did. The sad truth was I was ill-prepared to know how to sustain a loving relationship. I didn’t know how to trust it because the few times I’d allowed myself to feel love, i.e., my mother, the man I thought was my father and then Bianca (to a lesser degree), they’d all turned toxic. I didn’t want that for her. Better for both of us to cut our losses now before we became too invested in one another.
I got Colin on the phone.
“How are things going in Leeds, Colin?” I asked, leaning back in my leather chair.
“Right on course, Easton.”
“Brilliant,” I replied. “Do you think you’re still needed there or can Devon handle it with her reduced hours on site?”
“Devon’s got it,” he replied. “Why?”
“Here’s an early wedding present for you and Ronnie,” I said, propping my feet up on my desk. “She’s been quite vocal about wanting to be closer to her family in the U.S., yeah?”
I heard Colin chuckle. “You could say that, mate.”
“I’m reorganising. I’m going to be moving my office to the headquarters in New York. I want you to take the lead position here in D.C., for however lo
ng you want it. You’ve moved around enough. I’m sure Ronnie would like to have her husband around more often.”
The silence was thick on the other end. This had to be good news for Colin. I was puzzled by his lack of immediate response.
“Colin?”
“Oh yeah, Easton, that’s fabulous, though being that Ronnie’s from New York I’m sure she’d much prefer my taking an office there,” he chuckled.
I swiveled in my chair, laughing. “Hey, at least she’s going to be on the East Coast now and not across the pond, for Chrissake.”
“Oh, she’ll be thrilled, mate. I’m grateful as well, though a bit surprised…”
I knew Colin wanted more information. He knew me better than anyone, but I wasn’t comfortable in providing details because, to be honest, I wasn’t good at understanding my own actions or decisions at times. When my actions or decisions had nothing to do with business, that is.
“Splendid,” I replied, not feeling nearly as enthusiastic as I sounded.
“Will you be transferring your assistant to New York as well?” Colin asked, still fishing for information.
“No. Darcy will remain here. You’ve already proven you can mentor her as well as I can. It’s for the best, I think.”
“I see,” he replied, I could envision the look of disapproval on his face. My own gut felt like I’d twisted a knife into it. “When do you want me there?” he asked.
“Within the next few weeks,” I answered, smoothing out the silk tie I’d worn for my meeting with Martin Sheridan later. “And don’t worry, Colin, this won’t interrupt the cruise you’ve planned after the wedding.”
I heard him give a relaxed chuckle. “I figured you knew about that, mate. Glad to know because the tickets are non-refundable.”
“Yes, well I’m meeting with Martin Sheridan this afternoon. He’s back from his cruise, so I’ll make sure I clue him in on the transition, and confirm he’ll be on-site full-time whilst you’re honeymooning.”
“Sounds as if you’ve thought of everything, Easton. I’ll let Ronnie know the good news straight-away. Cheers.”
