The Titan Was Tall (Triple Threat Book 1)

by Kristen Casey

  “God,” Red sighed, staring at her. “You have no idea how much I wish I’d had you there when I was trying to win over my board last year. It just took you two sentences to explain something that Wayne and I couldn’t manage in an entire PowerPoint presentation.”

  She smiled, “Suffice it to say, I’ve had plenty of chances to hone my message. Practice makes perfect.”

  “Apparently so. Remind me to rope you in, the next time I need to convince someone.”

  “At your service,” Piper said, twinkling cutely.

  Red watched her flirt and could barely remember to breathe.

  WHEN THEY EMERGED from the restaurant after dinner, the car was waiting for them. Red handed Piper inside and slid in beside her, then spent the next twenty minutes trying not to get caught staring at his star author’s long, toned legs.

  As his driver wound through the remains of rush hour, the city lights cast flickering shadows across Piper’s face. Red wondered if the air felt as thick to her as it did to him. He wondered how hard it would be to cross the inches separating them and take her face in his hands.

  In too few minutes, though, they pulled up outside Piper’s hotel. Red followed her onto the sidewalk and jammed his hands into his pockets so he wouldn’t do something stupid—but he forgot to put a lock on his mouth.

  Next thing he knew, he wasn’t saying goodbye, so much as insisting on escorting Piper up to her suite. She looked somewhat confused but didn’t put up much of a fight. Which probably meant she was packing mace in her handbag and wasn’t afraid to use it.

  On the one hand, the city was a dangerous place. Red had noticed the way other men’s eyes followed Piper on the street, as obviously taken with her fresh prettiness as he was. He’d really rather she didn’t get assaulted in the hotel his company had arranged for her. Safety first, and all that.

  On the other hand, Red was forced to admit to himself that he desperately wanted to spend this last ten minutes with her. And given his edgy proclivities, perhaps the threat didn’t come from others, but from him.

  In the tight confines of the elevator, Red had to wonder what he’d been thinking. Trying not to kiss Piper in here was even more of a challenge than the car ride had been. Red stared at the flashing floor numbers and gripped hard on the rail. He prayed fervently for deliverance.

  When they got to her suite, Piper smiled sweetly up at him.

  “I had a really nice time tonight. Thank you.”

  “I’m glad you could join me,” he said. “I had a great time, too.”

  She kept looking up at him with those whiskey-brown eyes of hers. Calm. Waiting.

  He blurted out, “I should probably go.”

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  What emerged next from Red’s mouth was a bit startling to him—and possibly to her. “I probably shouldn’t kiss you goodnight. Even though I’m dying to.”

  She didn’t recoil or frown, though. Piper just smirked and murmured, “Is that so?”

  Red’s eyes narrowed as he studied her. “On second thought, maybe I should.”

  She laughed. Damn her.

  He ignored all common sense, plus the roaring in his head, and did what he’d been aching to do for the last three hours—he bent and pressed his lips to hers. Piper’s mouth was exactly as soft and sultry as he’d imagined it would be.

  Red could tell she was holding herself in reserve…until suddenly she wasn’t anymore. Suddenly, her mouth was opening and welcoming him in, and Piper was kissing Red back like her life depended on it.

  He yanked his hands from his pockets, gripped the back of her head and one tantalizing hip, then held her in place so he could explore her with his tongue.

  Red was finally, actually, kissing her. It was dazzling.

  But then she jumped like a startled cat when a room service cart rattled across the other end of the hall. He pulled reluctantly away, to find Piper flushed with what might be desire—or possibly mortification.

  In contrast, Red felt ferocious. Ravenous, even. Before he could grab her again, she laughed nervously.

  Piper’s head tilted toward her suite’s door. “Maybe we need to move this inside.”

  He hadn’t expected that. Hadn’t expected any of this. Off-kilter from the intensity of that kiss, he gasped, “No.” Perhaps a bit too firmly.

  Piper went pale. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean like…like that—” she stammered.

  Red cupped her jaw in his hands, anxious to keep contact between them. “It’s okay, I know what you meant. It’s just that I don’t trust myself to go in there with you right now.” Even so, he couldn’t resist dropping another quick peck on her lips.

  “Well, there’s a little sitting room,” she tried. “And a door that separates it from the bedroom.”

  He had to smile. He got it—he didn’t want to stop either. At. All.

  “Regardless,” Red explained. “I’m a dude. I’ll know a bed is in there.”

  “Geez, I must be out of practice,” Piper laughed unsteadily. “I mean—”

  He cut her off again. None of that nonsense. “No,” Red said. “You aren’t.”

  She felt like a bonfire of wickedness, burning away all sorts of civilized things like restraint and propriety. Red would be lost in seconds if he went in that room with her.

  Piper merely frowned in confusion and murmured, “Oh.”

  “I’d still like to see you again,” Red offered. “If you’re interested. I have a couple of meetings down in D.C. this week.” Or he would, once he had Wayne set them up. “If that’s close to you, maybe we could set something up for when I’m done.”

  “Seriously? That’s lucky.”

  Red believed in making his own luck, but whatever. He said, “I agree. Should I text you the details?”

  In answer, Piper fumbled quickly for her purse, digging through it for her cell. Moments later, he’d given her his personal number, she’d texted him a gif of a bespectacled secretary typing on an old-fashioned Corona, and Red was tucked into the hotel elevator sailing down to the lobby.

  What in the world had just happened? He’d been jumpy as hell, waiting to meet her, and then Piper had been nothing like he’d expected. Red had commandeered her evening in some half-cocked effort to figure her out and then ended up with his tongue down her throat.

  The one person in the world he could not fuck up a relationship with—the one and only person who could make or break the Trident deal besides himself—just had to be a stunning, intriguing woman he couldn’t walk away from.

  Red groaned. Karma was an evil, evil bitch.

  FIVE

  PIPER SANK AGAINST the back of her hotel room door and pressed two shaking fingers against her lips. As business meetings went, she was positive she’d never had one go quite that way—not outside the pages of her books, at least.

  She pulled her phone from her pocket and peeked at the screen, just to confirm that she hadn’t imagined that steamy scene in the hallway. Yup. Red’s text was still there, glowing brightly in the dark. Piper clutched it to her chest and took a deep breath.

  She tried stepping further into her suite, but her legs weren’t as steady as she would’ve liked. She staggered over to the small loveseat and dropped into it. Her purse slid from her shoulder, and her attaché sagged against her leg. She’d—she’d just made out like a hormonal teenager with a man she’d only met hours before. And he was her new boss.

  Red had been pretty insistent that he wasn’t exactly her direct superior, and Piper could sort of understand where he was coming from. Sort of. If he was a god on Olympus, she might as well be a lowly shepherdess. Not a ton of opportunity for interaction, there.

  But who was kidding who? If the head honcho at PKM Industries took a sudden dislike to her and her little story lambs, Piper would bet her grandma’s house that he’d find a way to toss her fat new contract right in the trash. And, given the way her royalties had been declining in the last few years, she could really use that influx of cash.r />
  Piper had so many awesome ideas for her new series, but she was counting on PKM to add the extra push she needed to get her income back up to where it had been.

  After all, her grandparents’ house was going to need some serious work soon. When her parents retired last year and Piper moved into the place, she hadn’t realized quite how much deferred maintenance she would be on the hook for—she’d only been determined to keep the farmhouse in the family.

  Perhaps her mom and dad hadn’t warned her because they believed Piper could afford the needed repairs better than they could. It probably served her right. If her dad hadn’t been so dismissive of her career, Piper might not have had to act so proud whenever it came up in conversation. Maybe instead of rubbing his nose in her success, she could’ve been more honest about the ebb and flow of royalties in the publishing industry.

  She sighed. There was nothing to be done about it now. Piper would fix up the home that her grandpa had built so painstakingly, and PKM would help her.

  She reached down into her attaché and pulled out the new contract, then switched on the lamp beside her. After she’d combed through the first several pages, she couldn’t resist calling Perry.

  Her attorney picked up, as he always did, on precisely the second ring. “Shanahan,” he barked.

  “Perry, it’s Piper. I know it’s late, but I just wanted you to keep an eye out for…”

  “Already got it.”

  “Are they for real?”

  “I’m still going over it, but it certainly seems so. Nicely done, Cupcake.”

  “Thank you.” Piper paused. “Do I need to remind you again that you cannot ever call anyone else Cupcake? You’ll get in trouble, you know that, right?”

  Perry laughed, a low, gravelly sound. “What do you take me for? I know that. But you and I—we go way back.”

  They certainly did. Perry had served in the Army with her father before beginning his legal career and had known Piper and her brother since they’d been in diapers.

  “That’s true,” she admitted.

  “So, you’re my Cupcake, even if you are also a fancy pants author these days.”

  “All right, fine. But listen—do I sign this tonight and hand it over before I leave? Or what?”

  “No, let them sweat for a bit. This contract makes it patently obvious they don’t want you to walk. No need to rush anything. I’ll check in with their legal team tomorrow, and then we can send it back to them in a week or two. I might be able to swing a couple more perks for you.”

  “What else is there?”

  “You’d be surprised.”

  Piper smiled. Hiring Perry had truly been one of the best decisions of her career.

  “You’re the boss,” she said.

  “Speaking of…how was MacLellan, anyway? Did he seem like a good egg or is he some groovy Romeo who thinks he’s God’s gift to publishing?”

  “He’s…” Piper touched the pads of her fingers to her lips again and paused. “He’s quite the force of nature.”

  “I’d heard that, but you know how the papers can be. They get it wrong sometimes.”

  “Not this time,” she said.

  Truer words had never been spoken. After she hung up with Perry, Piper laid awake for a long time, trying to unravel the murky motivations of Red MacLellan.

  From a business standpoint, he had a definite reason to keep her happy—to keep her willing to work for his company and to make sure she kept producing the kind of product that would give him a good return on his investment.

  From a personal standpoint, Red had no reason whatsoever to flirt with her, to kiss her like it was his job, and to ask if he could see her again. It nagged at her.

  Maybe Piper had been tipsier than she’d realized and confused calculated charm with flirtation. It was quite possible she’d been projecting—transmuting her own scorching attraction to the man into a mistaken sense that he had a thing for her.

  But…then Red had kissed her. He’d kissed her hard, like the world was ending and the house was on fire, and they’d both die right there on the utilitarian hotel carpet if he didn’t do it correctly. And, oh God, had he done it correctly. Red had kissed her more correctly than any man ever had before, and probably ever would again.

  Then he refused to come into her room.

  Then he asked for a second date.

  Piper huffed in frustration. None of it made a lick of sense. She flopped over for the umpteenth time and willed herself to fall asleep. Would she see him again, she wondered, during one of her meetings the next day?

  BY SIX THE next morning, Piper had parsed every statement Red had made in her presence in the prior twenty-four hours and convinced herself that it must all be one big chess game to him.

  Red had a reputation as a ruthless negotiator, after all. He wouldn’t be afraid to use any and every weapon in his arsenal to get what he wanted. If he thought Piper was going to make his Trident deal a success, he would want her happy.

  What else would make a lonely romance author happier than a little nookie of her own? Red’s efforts had been eerily accurate. She’d fallen for his seduction routine like she’d never met a grown man before.

  Piper wanted to groan at her naivete—she was useful to Red, nothing more. Hadn’t he said he wished she’d been on hand to convince PKM’s board to go ahead with the Trident acquisition?

  Red hadn’t been gazing lustily into her eyes and playing footsie because he liked her. He’d done it because he needed her, and Piper could absolutely handle that. She needed him, too.

  They would simply have to need each other’s talents without any of the kissing, because that could get out of hand real quick. Could. Ha. Would was more like it.

  She showered and dressed, drank a perfect latte from room service, and then marched downstairs to eat a very reasonable and business-like bowl of oatmeal in the hotel’s café. The front desk staff called her a cab, and Piper set out for Trident’s offices feeling very much in control.

  She could do this. Of course, she could. Hell, Piper probably wouldn’t even see Red MacLellan again on this trip, and he certainly wasn’t going to follow up on visiting her back in Maryland. Why would he bother? Piper would show him that he could get what he wanted from her without all the sexy nonsense.

  She barely noticed the city streets that rolled past her window. By the time the cab pulled up to Trident’s building near Rockefeller Center, Piper was a woman on a mission. She strode into the lobby like she owned the place, and only missed one—okay, maybe two—steps when Red’s assistant appeared out of nowhere to stop her.

  “Good morning, Miss Piper,” Wayne grinned. “Ready to make some new friends?”

  Piper took in the man’s gray suit, pale blue shirt, and bright green tie with an approving nod, and reached out to shake his hand. Firm grip, but not crushing. She liked him. Reluctantly, Piper scanned over his shoulder for a certain tall, auburn-haired drink of water, but Wayne appeared to be quite alone.

  “Only if I can start with you,” she teased.

  “Honey, I’m gonna be your best friend, by the time we’re through. Nice shoes, by the way.” He led her to the bank of elevators and hit the button.

  “Thank you. Nice tie.”

  “It is, isn’t it?” Wayne smoothed a hand down the strip of silk and smiled warmly. Then he continued, “I figured I’d bring you by Legal first, so you can meet Anika. If you have any questions about the new contract, she’s the one you should ask, but I doubt she’s expecting anything final from you today.”

  “I hope not. My lawyer and I will be looking it over for a while yet.”

  “Good. After Anika, I thought I’d bring you to meet some of the new people we have in the design department.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “By then, I’m hoping you’ll be hungry, and we can go find somewhere fun to eat.”

  “Wayne, I should probably tell you now. I am almost always in favor of food.”

  “See?” He elbow
ed her. “I knew I liked you. I mean, not as much as that British earl with amnesia you wrote about—but really close.”

  Piper goggled at him. “Don’t tell me you read my books, too?”

  “Only a few of them. Mr. MacLellan insisted.” He held open the elevator door while she entered, then followed her inside before continuing, “I’m in law school at night, so most of my reading is of the dry, torts variety. But what I read, I approve of, Madam. I definitely approve.”

  ANIKA, AS IT transpired, was a beautiful, yet harried, drill sergeant. Tall and slim, with waves of sleek, glossy black hair, the head of PKM’s legal department looked more like an exotic supermodel than someone who spent her days knee-deep in corporate litigation.

  When Piper and Wayne entered Trident’s third-floor legal offices, Anika was beelining across the room, barking orders right and left, and sending her soldiers scurrying in every direction to bring her what she wanted. She was younger than Piper expected, and not a little daunting.

  Anika zeroed in on them immediately and headed over.

  “You must be Piper,” she said. “Red told me you’d be coming.”

  Wayne said, “Piper, this is Anika Faroughi, the head of PKM’s legal team. She’s here at Trident this week, trying to help with the transition.”

  “Trying, being the operative word,” Anika commented drily.

  “Nice to meet you,” Piper smiled.

  “Likewise. I’m sorry I don’t have more time to chat this morning, but let’s set something up the next time you’re in town.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Wayne whipped out his cellphone and tapped out something on his screen.

  “I know Shanahan is still going over it, but does everything look good on your contract so far?”

  And then some, Piper thought. Aloud, she said, “I haven’t really gotten too far into it, but so far, so good.”

  “Great. Feel free to give me a call if you have any questions, okay?” She started edging away. “I’m sorry—I have a conference call in a minute, so I can’t stay. Wayne, will you make sure Piper has my card?”