by Ace Gray
Copyright © 2016 Ace Gray
ISBN (Print) 978-1-48357-302-1 (Ebook) 978-1-48357-303-8
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Contents
Cover
Title
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgements
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
To Kelly, Karrie, Amanda and Melissa. God love you for your relentless quest to make me admit I’m an author. I love you for your relentless quest to make my heart burst. There’s a part that beats for each of you now.
xoxo
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
If writing Strictly Business’ acknowledgements was hard, this is like triple-black-diamond-cliff-jumping hard because there are SO MANY people to thank.
The obligatory first thank you has to go to hubs. He not only tolerates, but actively supports this incessant need to plink on the keys about other men. He’d shout about me and my books from the rooftops and for that I’m eternally grateful. Pat, thank you for believing in me, even when I don’t.
It was stiff competition for first placement, though, because DAMN my Insta-babes are amazing. You guys lift me up, you built me, and I’m quite convinced that I would have nothing but a stack of paper without you. If there is any small way for me to return the favor or shower some of the love and affection I have for each of you—my FRIENDS—just ask. I’ve got your back, and a spare room for your trip to the Pacific Northwest. I LOVE YOU GUYS!
Kelly, Kelly, Kelly. Where do I even start? Perhaps with thank you? For taking a chance on me. For believing in me. And even for tolerating my outbursts both book, miserable failure and Outlander related. We joke about it frequently but it is legit on my bucket list to come snuggle with you. You are the truest type of friend and I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but now that I’ve got you, my tentacles are stuck and I’m not letting go.
Oh Karrie, my little AllieKat, you make me smile everyday. Can I adopt you or become your sister or something? I feel like you’re my family, soul sister from another mister defined. I cannot wait to co-write a book with you, my beautiful little fledgling author. You inspire everyday.
M. Andrews and AM Johnson it’s not even fair to group you two into the same paragraph but I would have to put two exceedingly similar thank yous next to each other. Because, honestly, from the bottom of my long ladylike (on one foot) toes, THANK YOU! AND I LOVE YOU!! You two inspire me, support me, and make me feel not so alone. I feel like we’re this tiny little gang of rainbow makers and I couldn’t be more privileged, honored or thrilled to have been wrangled in. You are simultaneously my idols and some of my dearest friends.
BB Easton you’re a tough nut to thank, too. I feel like 90% of my success is rooted in you, you magical set of pajamas, you. You wrote this amazing book, cultivated a cult-like following of friends, and then, by some miracle let me in. It may not seem like much but I met some of the best people in the world through you. Hell, I met YOU! I’m eternally grateful for your open arms, general badassery and kindness, and appreciation of my snark. WHAT WOULD I DO WITHOUT YOU??? Let me tell you, Pajamas, I have no intention of ever finding out…
A. Wilding Wells you’re beautiful soul shines like a beacon. I can see it all the way up the coast. I can’t wait to churn ice cream with you on that heaven you call a farm.
Melissa aka @bellelovebooks you were the very first to make me feel like STRICTLY BUSINESS wasn’t shit. I. Will. Never. Forget. Goonies trip soon, right?
Kathleen you’re not the hard-ass everyone makes you out to be. You are however the delightful, amazing, wonderfully talented editor that is stuck with me forever.
Kathryn, my saint! You make my ideas more beautiful than I could ever imagine. We done good. Ribbon and arm porn are a hit.
Jamie you are the original, and the one that tolerates everything. It’s never lost on me. Nor can you ever be replaced.
Mom and Dad, I know this isn’t your thing but your love and support never waivers. I couldn’t be anything without you.
Corinne your support not only warms my heart, but also my soul. Or is that the bourbon?
Kellogg, considering there is butt stuff in my book and you still liked it made my day. You’re one of the best friends a girl could ever ask for.
There are probably 2,347 people I’m forgetting but it’s not intentional. I love you all. I think about you, I swear. Your friendship, support, drinking skills, shenanigans, and other various contributions to both this book and my life are not lost on me.
Had to take a moment to thank these chickadees specifically. You guys make my heart sing. Lion King of course…
“The art of war is of vital importance…
It is a matter of life and death, a road
either to safety or ruin.”
-Sun Tzu
How could there be more?
I shook my head. Fate was cruel and, more so than I originally thought. I’d gone and fallen in love only to have my business attacked, be personally ambushed, and—in the greatest tragedy of my life—watch someone die for me. Needless to say, I’d dealt with my fair share of shit over the past few months, and the idea of more made a massive lump form in my throat.
But here we were dealing with it anyway. Me, cowering mid-meltdown in my expansive closet, and Nicholas Bryant, sitting wordlessly with his arm around me. In moments like this he was just my boyfriend. He wasn’t an unbelievably rich and incredibly powerful businessman. Or part of the New York social elite.
He was just Nick. Tall and handsome with broad shoulders and a perfectly sculpted torso. His perfect pout sat above a cut jaw and below dark chocolate styled hair. Both framed the most expressive eyes on the planet. And I loved him. Admitting it was one of the hardest things I’d ever done. My usual emotional walls defended my heart from things like love, but he’d broken them down without even trying.
Bryant could be controlling, temperamental even, but also tender and caring. And sometimes devilishly kinky. We were cut from the same cloth in business, in bed, and worse, in relationships. For me, running a billion dollar sportswear company was child’s play in comparison to having a functional relationship. I knew he felt the same way.
“Nicholas Bryant, what do you mean more?” I lifted my head to look him straight in the face. His eyes were the flat steel gray I hated. That color told me how angry he was, even if he was being uncharacteristically gentle with me.
“I’ll take care of it. I’ll protect you.” Nick’s voice was a combination of his deep, rumbling purr and sharp growl; every bit the mixed message he himself could be.
After watching Trevor’s life fade from his eyes in Central Park, I had accepted that I needed protection, but it couldn’t be solely on Nick’s terms. His archaic notion of shielding me was annoying, even
now.
“No,” I mustered all the force I could. It wasn’t much. “I will not be kept in the dark. You may be able to pacify your mother or your sister or your employees or whoever, but not me. Not after what happened.”
I swallowed. Every time I closed my eyes, I pictured blood covering my hands and forearms. The terror in Trevor’s eyes as he exhaled his last breath overwhelmed me. Nick’s touch was the only thing keeping the nightmares at bay. As it was, I felt like I’d live forever with a gnawing hole of guilt in my chest.
Nick shifted closer. He stared at the wall in front of him, his eyes fixed on my shoe collection, but he wasn’t focusing on the red bottoms. I hoped he was recalling similar discussions we’d had in the past.
Well, similar shouting matches.
Nick ran his free hand through his slightly wavy hair. A small piece fell down into his stormy eyes. I longed for the time when those piercing eyes haunted my dreams instead of Trevor’s. He sighed deeply, drawing attention to his slightly parted lips. I tried to imagine that mouth on me.
Usually I could recall each of his thousand kisses since we’d met. I’d had to fight to remember the world outside Nicholas Bryant. The feel of his lips, his tongue tracing mine, and his hands tightly gripping my hips would always pop unbidden into my mind. Whether in person or fantasy he was all consuming.
“Please.” I tried to keep strength in my words.
His dark eyes met mine. I shuddered at the look that made other people’s blood run cold. He mistook my shiver and his fingers dug into my skin, possessive and strong. His other hand came to my cheek, cupping it with the same authority he did my hip.
“Nick,” I pled, knowing what would come next.
We’d developed a pattern when it came to discussing anything important. Either we didn’t—at all—or Nick would brush me off, dismissing my request to be included. Then we’d brawl. Spectacularly.
“Why won’t you just let it be?” He searched my eyes for the answer. “I’ll take care of everything. Don’t you believe me? Don’t you trust me?”
“Oh no, don’t you dare pull that bullshit. I know you’re perfectly capable of dealing with just about anything.”
No one was yelling—yet. Nick leaned in and kissed me far more tenderly than I anticipated given his almost painful grip on my flesh. When he pulled back, his eyes dropped to the floor.
“Kate, please let me make up for what happened. At least let me try.”
“Is that what this is about?” My voice fell, my chest too.
“Of course.” His head snapped up, and his dark flat eyes were so desperate my heart stuttered.
“Two things.” I took the deepest breath I could considering the heavy weight on my chest. “One, I’m not that girl and you know it. I’m not meek or mild…usually.” I did take a moment to acknowledge I was balled up in my closest. “If I just sat back and let you handle everything you’d get bored. Fast.”
“I’d be just fine getting some control back,” he said under his breath as he slid his hand down and pulled my legs to straddle his.
“Two.” I raised my eyebrows. “You can’t erase what happened. Nothing can. He died, Nick.” My voice cracked. “And we can’t change that or make it better. Trevor,” I choked on his name, “isn’t a problem we can solve.” He shifted against me when I spoke trying to find a different position, one where he didn’t have to meet my eyes. “I’m supposed to move forward, and feeling helpless won’t make that easier for me.”
Tears pooled in the corner of my eyes. Somehow, Nick snaking an arm around my waist and pulling me close kept them from actually falling. His other hand gripped behind my knee, and in a swift move he twisted my body so my back was on the carpet, and I was under his muscled chest. The weight of his body and the tightness of his hold helped keep my soul from splintering further.
“I know. I know I can’t fix it, but I have to try,” Nick whispered inches from my face. “I don’t grieve very well, do I?” He nuzzled his nose against mine. “You have to know I feel horrible. The regret is constant, but…” He took a deep breath and looked away again. “Every breath you take is precious, every heartbeat is precious. I never wanted anyone hurt, but I’m thankful you’re here and safe. I’ll be damned if anything changes that.”
He meant them to be sweet, but those words were like nails on a chalkboard. My tears came back. An acidic, booming reprimand flew to my throat, but before I could decide if I was hurt, angry, or something else entirely, he took my lips roughly in a kiss.
“You mean everything to me,” he growled when he finally let them free.
He’d said that so many times it was usually hollow, but something about his tone stopped the wounded, flippant comments in my throat. This time his words reverberated through my insides, hugged onto my bones and fluttered into my chest; they made me feel lighter for the first time in days. Just before he took my lips again I wondered how my body would react when he finally said he loved me.
IF he ever says I love you.
Nick nibbled, pulled, and pushed on my lips until I couldn’t breathe. My fingers curled into the fine shirt covering his muscled frame. His hand wandered slowly from my knee, then up underneath my shirt. There was no bra in his way as he pulled sharply on my nipple. I cried into his mouth and wound my legs around him, only to be interrupted by the quiet clearing of a throat from the doorway.
“Jaime?” Only a slight question mixed with Nick’s blatant anger. His hand clenched my ribs where it rested beneath my shirt.
“Sir.” Nick’s head of security didn’t sound like his usual, confident self. “I need to speak with you again.” Nick kissed my nose and unwound from my body.
Whatever they’d discussed minutes ago—well, shouted about—had been bad enough to send me reeling and into the closet to drown out the noise. Apparently, it was bad enough to pull Nick away from me twice in far too few minutes.
I hadn’t gotten answers, and that made my stomach flip. My skin went cool and clammy without Nick, and when I closed my eyes to slow my breathing, the blood from my nightmares coated my insides again. My eyes flew open as I scampered away from the image, crashing straight into the dresser. Glass clattered and jewelry jingled as the furniture clunked wildly. I got nauseous all over again. My feet made the decision to scramble downstairs for me.
I was drawn to the kitchen, growing warmer as I rounded the corner. Nick was perched on a stool, his back to me. He was hunched over the counter, rubbing his temples.
“And we’re sure this is Victor’s doing?” Bryant’s voice could have frosted glass.
“Sir.” Colton cut him off as he nodded in my direction.
Nick uncoiled from the countertop. His muscles bunched and flexed as he turned toward me. I tried to find a smile, or will my feet to keep walking, but I couldn’t. His eyes went even darker when he realized I was frozen. He let out a sigh that somehow turned into a snarl.
“It’s fine. I haven’t yet, but I plan to share everything with Kate,” he said as he reached for me.
I unfroze long enough to walk into Nick’s outstretched arms, trying to ignore the shocked look on Jaime and Colton’s faces. Enveloped in him, I could breathe again. It wasn’t about being weak or strong, but rather being whole. I was grateful he was willing to wrap his muscled arms around me.
Nick picked up the conversation again.
“So, Victor had a meeting with the Building and Planning Commission? So what?”
“He called in a favor and pulled Vesper’s floor plans,” Jaime answered.
“What?!” I jumped against Nick’s chest.
“It’s okay, Kate,” he said as he pinned me to his body. The pressure told me it was anything but.
“So the plans, the private investigator, and the bail money? Anything else?” Nick asked Jaime.
My heart dropped with each offense listed. I went white as a sheet.<
br />
“No, sir.”
“Kate and I will grab some things and be down in a few minutes. Until then, try to contain the situation.” Nick’s frown deepened as he stood, sliding me from his lap, then gently pulling me back upstairs.
“We need to pack, Sweets.”
“Why are we leaving?”
“I need resources I only have access to at my place,” he grumbled.
“Oh.” I barely breathed the word.
“Hey.” He collected me back in his arms. “I told you, I’m going to fix this.”
“Tell me what’s going on, Nick. Building plans?” I looked at him sideways from underneath my long lashes. “Private investigators?” I tried to swallow the giant knot in my throat. “Bail money?” My hands trembled as I threw dresses and blazers into garment bags.
“I said it will be okay.” His tone warmed as his big hands carefully stilled mine. “Do you remember Victor Alexander?”
“Of course.”
It was easy to speak the truth. Victor was almost as recognizable in New York as Bryant. Almost. I hadn’t needed an introduction when he’d interrupted an evening out with Nick recently.
“He has this nasty habit of going after companies I’ve shown interest in.”
“Vesper,” I said flatly.
Nick had been very interested in my company. He’d wanted to purchase it; his whole team had been fixated on Vesper. When his plan eventually unraveled, it almost ended us. I straightened my shoulders. That familiar, defensive fire—the one that turned into my infamous temper—burned in my belly.
“You know it’s not your place to watch over Vesper, Nick. You aren’t there, you don’t have to see these things coming. I’ll make sure there aren’t any vulnerabilities.”
“But it is my place to watch over you, and it’s not that simple.”
He let my hands slip through his, and he aimlessly played with the clothes in my bag as his face became even more pinched. His eyes searched the carpet; he’d go to speak, purse his lips, then start all over again. Fury was quickly clouding his gorgeous features.
