To be fair, I’d gotten cold when she’d tried to get me to open up about it too. We lived it together. We didn’t need to talk about it.
As perceptive as Donovan was about hitting barriers, he was also fond of trying to bulldoze through them. “But you were an adult. You weren’t living with him anymore. Presumably he wasn’t still punishing you for how you did the dishes.”
If the answer to this related to her reasons for wanting her father gone, I expected she wouldn’t respond.
But after a tense beat passed, she did, though reluctantly. “No. He wasn’t.”
“Then was there something that motivated your leaving?”
Her head shook, barely perceptible. “Delayed reaction, I guess.” Another beat. “And if he had still been abusive, it wouldn’t matter because, like you said earlier, he said/she said won’t get us anywhere.”
“I did say that.”
“And you said you didn’t need to know my reasons.”
“I said that too.” For a second, I thought he’d leave it alone. “But we might be able to use your leaving. Could blame it on something else. Say you discovered something he’d done. Were afraid for your life.”
“Would that be helpful?” There was a raw note in her timbre that suggested saying she’d been afraid wouldn’t have been a lie, and that bothered me more than I wanted to admit.
“I don’t know yet.” His intercom buzzed. “I need more information before I can tell you that.” He put his phone on speaker. “This better be urgent, Simone.”
“Sabrina says there’s a client who’s demanding to see Weston. She explained he wasn’t available, and now he wants to see you.”
Donovan rolled his eyes. “Tell her I’ll be right there.” He pressed the button to end the call. “How does Weston always draw out the crazies, even when he’s not here?” He stood up and buttoned his jacket. “I should have enough to get us started. Sorry to run out like this. I’ll be in touch.”
He scurried out of the room, letting the door shut behind him.
We’d been dismissed, which was good because I’d officially reached a point where I couldn’t hear anymore. It was hard enough grappling with the past shit that I’d been a part of. I didn’t know where to begin processing the new revelations.
Had she been afraid?
I’d always believed he hadn’t treated her as cruelly as he’d treated me. She’d learned how to live within the lines, or he was easier on her because she was a girl, or no one had ever made him as pissed as I had.
Truth was, I’d let myself believe that my leaving had to have calmed him down.
Wishful thinking, perhaps.
Self-centered, definitely.
My leaving also may have had the opposite effect. I’d taken away his favorite punching bag. Had she become my replacement?
The possibility nagged at me as I brought her coat to her and held it out for her to put on. Her brow rose in surprise. Then she stood and let me help her put it on, one arm, then the next.
The scent of blossoms infiltrated my senses, but I didn’t step away. Even after her coat was on. Instead, I turned her around, and pulled the fur edges together to button her up.
“Did he get worse, Jolie? After I’d gone?” I’d whispered it, afraid that if I spoke too loudly, I would scare her truth away. That she’d turn cold on me too. I didn’t even care that she’d heard me call her by that name. I was too anxious about the answer.
Her gaze locked onto mine, and she brought her hand up to cover my own. “You know he was never as hard on me as he was on you.” Her voice was equally soft.
“That doesn’t tell me anything.”
“What do you want me to say? That he became a sweet, loving man the minute you left? He was still him. Quick with his tongue. Quicker with his hand.”
Years of separation disappeared, and all the distance between us now was a few inches. Whatever shit had kept us apart felt insignificant in the moment. We had shared something that so few people were unfortunate enough to share. Lucky enough to share, too. Once we had been everything that mattered to each other. It had been the two of us against the world. Against him. That had bonded us in a way that couldn’t be ignored, no matter what else had happened between us, and with that recognition, a sudden overwhelming wave of guilt washed over me as well.
“You should have come with me.” I tugged her closer, holding her coat as though keeping her here now could have kept her with me then. “Even if you hadn’t wanted to be with me. I would have gotten you out of there. I would have gotten you free.”
Her breath stuttered as she drew in. “It wasn’t your job to be my savior.”
“But I wanted to be.”
I had wanted to save her and fix her and give her safety and a life that was better, and as angry as I had tried to be with her for not letting me do those things, I also knew I hadn’t fought hard enough. I’d failed her.
I didn’t want to fail her again.
She reached her fingers up to brush across my cheek, her stroke burning into my skin with a welcome fire. “Cade…?”
I didn’t know what she was asking, but I knew what she needed. After all this time, I could read her body language like we’d invented it together.
I needed it too. Needed to feel her lips on mine. Needed to see if kissing her now held the magic and escape that kissing her then had.
I started to lean in.
And the door burst open. “Apparently, I need my wallet. This jackoff is expecting me to take him to lunch.”
I jumped back from Jolie like she was forbidden. Old habits die hard. Donovan didn’t make any indication that he knew what he’d interrupted, but he wasn’t the kind of guy who missed anything. It was unusually generous for him not to gloat about it, considering our bet, so I tried to be generous in return. “Do you need me to step in?”
“I don’t think it’s an occasion for a heavy hand.” He pulled his coat out of the closet and patted the pocket to be sure his wallet was there. “Sabrina is coming as well. It won’t be all terrible. Especially if I can convince her to let me finger her under the table.”
Knowing Donovan, Sabrina wouldn’t really have a say.
“Sorry for the crass language,” he said, remembering Jolie was there. “I’m in love.”
As if that was an excuse.
He turned back to me. “Besides, you have a stack of performance reports to work on. Don’t worry. I’ll bring you something back.”
I’d forgotten about the promise to help him.
It was a blessing, actually. Because then I could send Jolie away and lose myself in paperwork and ignore the feeling that I was once again about to lose myself in her.
Sixteen
Hours later, I closed the folder on the last performance report and pushed it aside. Donovan hadn’t been lying when he’d said there’d been a stack of them. All of us preferred to keep what work we could digitized, but a stubborn portion of our clients still wanted a hardcopy printed and signed off on each quarter. These were the reports we tended to leave until the last minute possible. Weston had pushed them off, then left the contiguous United States.
When I’d still had quite a few to go through by the time Donovan was ready to leave the office, I’d piled the rest in a recycling shopping bag I’d found in the office kitchenette and taken them back to the hotel. A bigger man would have taken the project up to his room. Instead, I’d commandeered a table in the restaurant and both hoped and dreaded that Jolie would eventually come down for dinner.
It was close to ten, and she hadn’t made an appearance. Did that mean she’d gone somewhere else to eat or ordered room service?
Fuck. Why did I even care?
I scrubbed a hand over my face then picked up my phone to text Donovan. Reports done. Should I bring them to you or the office?
He didn’t need them until the morning, but I could drop them off tonight. It would give me another excuse to avoid my hotel room, and since my skin started to buzz every t
ime I thought about going up—every time I thought about her—it seemed like a good idea to try to make sure she was asleep before I returned.
Not that I was worried anything would happen with her.
I’d been seconds from kissing her earlier—and kissing her was one thousand percent not something I needed to be doing—but that had been a fluke of circumstances. We’d been talking about the past, and I’d been caught there. The idea of kissing her had seemed natural in the moment. It wasn’t something I was still thinking about. It wasn’t something I planned to think about ever again.
Still. Distance did seem prudent. In case she had other ideas.
I started to gather the reports to put in the bag when Donovan replied. I sent someone to pick them up from your room.
I couldn’t get my fingers to type fast enough. Too much trouble. I’ll drop them off.
It’s already done.
Barely any time had gone by since I’d sent my first text. Surely there was time to reverse his orders.
But that would mean explaining to Donovan why I needed an excuse to avoid my hotel room, and considering the bet we had going, there was no way he was going to support me. Probably why he’d sent someone in the first place. Because he wanted me alone with Jolie. Alone with no distractions. Alone with nothing to think about but each other.
I swallowed a groan and signaled the waitress over to close out my tab. If Donovan was sending one of his lackeys to my room, I’d better be up there to meet them.
Ten minutes later, I was standing outside my door, feeling déjà vu. Hadn’t I done this whole get-myself-together-before-seeing-her routine last night? It was stupid and unnecessary. Without hesitating, I swiped my key card and pushed into the room.
Like the night before, I was met with the low murmur of a television set, but this time the TV was on in the living area. Apparently, the hotel staff had it switched out during the day, which meant there was no reason to give Jolie my room tonight, and the couch bed was already pulled out, so it seemed she was planning to sleep there. There was a half-eaten burger and salad on a tray on the desk, too, so I knew she’d been in for most of the night and that she’d gotten something to eat.
Only, she wasn’t there now. A peek into my bedroom told me she wasn’t there either.
Irrational panic ticked up the rate of my pulse. I dropped the bag and my coat on the floor by the couch and headed toward the only other room in the suite, the bathroom. I was halfway there when I realized the water was running.
She’s here. She’s fine. Just taking a shower.
As my heart calmed, I walked to the wall and banged my head against it. What the fuck was wrong with me? She’d said it herself—it wasn’t my job to save her. And there was nothing to save her from here anyway. It had to be old instincts kicking in. That never-ending trepidation that had underscored every other emotion back in those days. Be careful. Watch your back. Don’t get too comfortable.
It had been years before I’d felt any sort of peace. Nowadays, fear was foreign. Then as soon as Jolie was back in my life, I was right where I’d been at eighteen.
No. I refused. I was a different man now. She wasn’t going to change that.
And I definitely wasn’t going to think about the fact that she was currently down the hall naked.
The sound of knocking prevented me from exploring that last thought further.
I shouldn’t have been surprised to see Simone standing there when I opened the suite door. “Daddy has you working overtime too?”
Simone was the type who could be dangerous—a provocative beauty with black frizzy hair and dark features who would do anything for Donovan Kincaid. She worshipped him, and not even necessarily in a sexual way. She just seemed to be into the kink of submission, with or without the sex, and since we’d made it a rule not to bang our subordinates, her relationship with her boss had gone without.
But he could get that woman to do anything without any fuss, including going to Midtown at ten o’clock at night to pick up a bunch of non-urgent performance reports.
Simone made a sultry harrumph sound and pushed past me into the suite. “I might have volunteered for the job.” She peeked over her shoulder to see my reaction, batting her lashes, and now I understood her motives for volunteering went beyond pleasing her boss. “You barely looked at me today at the office, Cade Warren.”
At the time it was made, the rule of not banging our subordinates had included not banging each other’s subordinates, which was why Simone and I hadn’t ever fooled around. She’d made it clear she’d been interested. Of course I’d been interested—I wasn’t an idiot. But I’d been respectful of my partner and our agreement and had kept my hands off.
Now that Donovan was with Sabrina—who was Weston’s subordinate—it seemed which subordinates were hands off had been redefined. And with Simone and I no longer working in the same office, all the obstacles that had prevented us from getting it on before had been removed.
Her body language said that she was fully aware our situation had changed.
Well, shit. That altered my plans for the rest of the night.
Except, actually, it didn’t.
The flick of her tongue over her lips thing she was doing would have had me jumping last week. This week, the only lips on my mind belonged to the woman currently naked in my shower, and my cock had been sporting a semi before I’d even known who was at the door. It was possible that fucking Simone could help redirect my thoughts—an erection worked the same no matter where the inspiration came from—but banging Blondie the other night hadn’t helped get my mind off Jolie. It was unlikely Simone would be any different.
I crossed to the bag, picked it up, and held it out for her to take. “I appreciate what you’re offering, but it’s not a good time.”
Her mouth turned down into a pout. I’d expected that. I hadn’t expected her to reach out, ignore the bag, and lift the edge of my hoodie to get her hands underneath.
“Excuses, excuses. We should put all those aside for the night. It’s the holidays. Give yourself a present.” Now she was tugging at my belt. “Give me one too while you’re at it.”
“Oh, hey, no thanks.” I tried to take a step back and bumped against the side of the sofa. “Really. This isn’t hap—”
She cut me off with a kiss. At the same time she shoved a hand down my pants in search of my still semi-aroused manhood.
And of course that was exactly the second that Jolie would walk down the hall, her hair dripping wet, wearing nothing but a big, fluffy, complimentary hotel robe. “Oh. I didn’t realize you had company.”
Simone broke the kiss and stepped back, the additional person in the room apparently more motivating than my protests. “Whoops. I didn’t mean to intrude.” In true Simone fashion, she didn’t sound all that sorry.
“I’m the one intruding, it seems.” Jolie smiled, but her tone was bitter, and much as this whole situation sucked, I did like imagining the bitterness had something to do with jealousy. “I’d planned to sleep out here tonight, so if you’d like to move this to the bedroom… Or I can just grab my things and go in there myself. You won’t even know I’m here.”
“How modern-relationship,” Simone quipped.
Before she started getting any ideas of how modern my supposed relationship with Jolie was, I shoved the bag of reports in Simone’s hand. “Simone was just going.” Glad she hadn’t gotten around to taking her coat off yet, I turned her around and ushered her toward the door.
“I don’t have to be going. I can be quiet.” Her whisper was loud enough for Jolie to hear, which made her argument less believable. “Or I can be loud, if that’s what you prefer.”
She winked, and suddenly I wasn’t sure if she really had been coming on to me or if this had all been some sort of ploy set up by Donovan to stir trouble. I didn’t put it past him, though I did question what his reasoning would be. Sending his drop-dead gorgeous secretary to seduce me in front of Jolie hardly seemed the best st
rategy for getting me to take my former lover to bed.
Whatever Simone/Donovan’s objective had been, I could use it to my advantage. Let Jolie think she was in the way. Remind her I had every intention of keeping her at a distance. Motivate her to stay away.
If it also made her jealous, even better.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” I said as I opened the door. “I’m trying to be a good roommate. Next time I’m in town, okay?”
“Don’t change your plans because of me,” Jolie called from behind me. “I have earbuds.”
There went the jealous-ex-girlfriend vibe I’d been digging.
Simone trailed a single finger down my chest. “We could have a good time…”
“Go.” I practically pushed her into the hall. “Thank you for coming by. It’s always nice to see you, Simone. Good night.”
I didn’t let her respond, pulling the door shut and letting out a deep breath when the lock clicked in place.
“You both seemed cozy.”
I turned to find Jolie bent over her suitcase, searching for something in the contents. She wasn’t even looking at me, as though the preceding incident had not only not bothered her, it also hadn’t deserved her interest.
The sharp edge in her tone said otherwise.
Jealous-ex-girlfriend vibe was back in full force.
“We’ve worked together. That’s all.” I played it cool, toeing off my shoes, making myself comfortable.
“You invited her to your hotel room. It seems there was definitely more to it than that.”
Of course she hadn’t realized that we hadn’t come back to the suite together. I’d parted with Jolie hours ago, staying at the office to work. It probably looked like I’d spent the rest of the day and evening with Simone.
I had no reason to correct that assumption. “I suppose I wasn’t thinking. Forgot I wasn’t rooming alone. I don’t usually have to worry about that.”
She stood up. The T-shirt she’d stolen from me was clutched in one hand, a pair of flimsy see-through panties in the other.
Fuck. Now I was thinking about those panties. And the fact she wasn’t wearing any underneath that big fluffy robe. My cock jerked to attention.
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