by Qwillia Rain
“She wasn’t ready.” The tension in his neck eased as Bryce recalled the anger and defiance dancing in Lawrence’s brown gaze. In many ways, she’d been wise beyond her twenty-two years, but in the most important ones, she’d been far too young for what he wanted.
“How? She was interested. I watched her trying to get your attention.”
Bryce watched her rebuff another of Victor’s touches. From the stiffening of the other man’s body, the grip he had on his fork, and the short, quick stabs he used to spear his food, Bryce suspected he’d become more aggressive in his next attempt. “She didn’t trust.”
“Excuse me?”
His attention stayed on Lawrence and Victor, although he could see Richard shift his attention between him and the other pair from the corner of his eye. “When she came to me, Lawrence was incapable of trusting any man.”
“How do you know?”
“Didn’t you ever notice she never allowed any one, especially a man, to get behind her or between her and an exit?” Bryce glanced at his friend, surprised he’d missed such an obvious clue. It had frustrated the hell out of him eight years ago when he’d occasionally look up to see the heat of attraction in her eyes. The moment he smiled or started to approach, the fires were banked, and the shield snapped back into place.
Richard cursed beneath his breath. “You think she was raped?”
Bryce gave a quick nod. “It was my original conclusion. I had Henderson run a background check for me.”
“And?”
“No rape. There were allegations of abuse, physical not sexual, when she was eleven, just before her parents died.” He didn’t reveal the details, but he did have to concentrate to keep from crushing the cup in his hand. “She and her sister were taken in by Gino Laguardi and his wife and brought here to San Diablo.” Bryce sipped his coffee, remembering the lecture he’d received from Gino about treating Lawrence like the lady she was. If the man had detected even a hint of what Bryce had imagined sharing with his precious foster daughter, Gino would have never signed the contract to merge his ship-building business with Halsey’s. “Getting her to this point has been a battle.”
“A fruitless one if you’re going to allow that snake charmer to poach on your grounds,” Richard warned.
“It took nine months to get her to the point where she would stay in my office to discuss the shipping schedules and the delivery contracts without double-checking to make sure her path to the door was free.” Bryce’s fingers ticked off each of the points as he mentioned them. “Another two years to get her to come out to my home in order to help organize a dinner party and hostess it for me. And another six months after that to get her to voice her opinion without being afraid I’d retaliate in some way. I just about came the first time she argued with me over a comment I’d made about Mike and his career and didn’t run when I yelled back.”
Richard’s chuckle and nod reminded Bryce his friend had been present at the heated discussion over Mike’s career path. “She did have a point, though. Mike is a hell of a photojournalist.”
“That goes without argument.” Bryce nodded when the waiter approached offering to refill his cup and cleared the finished meals from the table. Waiting until the server had left, he kept his gaze on Victor and his assistant. The set of her shoulders and the way she watched Victor were familiar to Bryce. She could trust a few people only so far before she froze up. Pushing her beyond those boundaries would prove a challenge, but one he looked forward to meeting.
“Have you thought about what Jacob discussed?”
Since that had been the original purpose of their dinner meeting, Bryce asked, “Did he tell you what my alternative to resigning is?”
“No, but I have an idea”—he paused to sip his coffee—“and a suggestion if I’m right.”
Turning away from the couple across the room, Bryce waited. Having grown up with Richard, Bryce didn’t doubt that the plans he’d been carefully devising since his father’s ultimatum had also been weighed and measured by his friend. “A solution to my problem?”
“Mattie.”
“Lawrence?” His attention turned back to the table in time to see Victor slide his hand over her thigh. The flare of anger and possessive indignation surprised Bryce, but the urge to stride over and grab Victor by the throat was eased when Lawrence slapped Victor’s hand away and stood up. Her words were quiet, but the expression on her face left little doubt she was furious, before she turned and strode out of the restaurant. The other man remained in his seat, finishing the last of his meal and ignoring the pointed stares of the diners around him.
Richard chuckled as he watched the exchange across the room. Leaning back in the booth, he nodded. “Yes, her. If Jacob is pushing you to get married in order to placate some of the board members, then she’s the perfect candidate for your wife.”
“How?” He’d rationalized his own arguments, but wondered if his eight-year-long attraction to the woman was clouding his judgment.
“She’s familiar to the board, knows the way the company works, and is a loyal employee.”
“You sound like you’re creating an argument for giving her a raise.” Bryce shook his head.
“She’s cool under pressure. Makes decisions based on a balance of gut instinct and logical research. And can plan a dinner party for six to six hundred guests with little to nothing going wrong. You need her, Bryce. Her reputation alone will gain you points with the board.”
“Reputation?” He acknowledged all the assets Richard listed with a nod.
“Mattie isn’t a party animal, Bryce. You and I both know the primary concern Frieda and Lionel are using to turn the board against you is the playboy persona Upscale’s article hyped.” Richard shrugged. “Considering the tidbit your last playdate helped circulate in The National Recorder last year about the things you and she did at the Club, someone with a wholesome reputation is just what you need to get back in their good graces.”
“And what if I don’t want to be blackmailed into marriage?”
Richard watched him carefully. “If memory serves me correctly, you never intended to marry. At least that was your decision just after Miss Helen died.”
“I said a lot of things when I was sixteen, Richard.” Bryce shrugged.
“True.”
“And it isn’t like I haven’t tried to get married. Am I the only one who remembers I’ve been engaged? Twice.”
“No, most of the country has been reminded of those facts. That may be part of the problem with that blasted article, my friend. Third time’s a charm, and every woman with her eye on the easy life is hoping she’ll make you change your tune.” Richard smiled. “But you never would have married Sybelle or Carolyn, even if they hadn’t broken the engagements. You’ve spent the last twenty-four years of your life working to make Halsey Unlimited the first name off anyone’s lips when it comes to the construction of ships, from tugs to cruise ships to aircraft carriers. Neither of those women understood what was necessary to keep the company growing.”
“I could do other things.”
“What are you going to do with the rest of your life, Bryce, if you don’t have Halsey Unlimited to run?” Ticking off each item on his fingers, Richard continued. “You’re not needed for the day-to-day stuff at DBC. You haven’t assisted in the training of any new Doms or Dommes—let alone submissives—in nearly three years. And you have a talented manager and staff handling the stables, orchard, and gardens of your home.”
Pushing his empty coffee cup away, Bryce held Richard’s gaze. “There’s always travel.”
“You haven’t taken a vacation from the company in five years, my friend.” Richard signaled the waiter for the bill before turning back to face him. “You’ll never convince me you’d be happy as some jet-setting playboy. You were never meant to be some high-society, feckless celebrity.”
“And what if I don’t want a ‘wholesome’ bride?” Bryce offered, his mind conjuring images of his assistant that were
the complete opposite of “wholesome.” Hell, if she’d even suspected some of the things he’d contemplated introducing her to, Mattie Lawrence would have never lasted eight years in his office.
“I never said the reputation had to remain that way, my friend.” Richard finished his coffee. “In fact, I’ve been just as anxious for you to stake your claim, so I can assist you in tarnishing her reputation just the slightest bit.”
A flash of irritation ignited at his friend’s words but was quickly stifled. In the years they’d known each other, it hadn’t been unusual for them to share a lover, so it disturbed Bryce that he’d react poorly to Richard’s anticipation of a similar act. Keeping his expression calm, he shrugged. “I’ll think about it.”
Chapter Two
“We have a problem.”
Mattie Lawrence clenched her thighs and fought the shiver that zipped down her spine. The sound of Bryce’s voice was always a turn-on for her. Add to it six feet four inches of lean muscle, broad shoulders, and smooth Southern charm, and it was no wonder she found it nearly impossible to keep from creaming her panties at least once a day around the man. Since he’d decided to lean over the back of her chair and make his statement close to her left ear, Mattie was treated to not only the sound of his Southern drawl, but the crisp citrus smell of his aftershave, the brush of his hair against her ear, and the heat of his breath over her cheek. Yup, there goes another pair.
She waited until he’d returned to his desk before looking up. “What kind of problem?”
From his forefinger dangled a white lace thong. Though his face showed little emotion, anger glittered in his pale green eyes. Panic had Mattie’s heart slamming against her ribs as she considered the panties could have come from the stash she kept in her desk. Before she could stutter out an excuse for their presence, Bryce continued and eased her worries.
“These were tucked into my pocket in the middle of my meeting with Heilsbeck and Reynolds, along with a very X-rated proposition.” With a disgusted look, he dropped the item in the trash. Legs crossed at the ankles, Bryce leaned against the polished mahogany desk and gripped the edge with his hands. “They weren’t very happy about it.”
“Is that why you canceled your afternoon meeting?” Mattie tilted her head to hold his gaze.
“Among other things.” He took a deep breath, his knuckles going white from his hold on the desk before he continued. “The board approached my father about rethinking his retirement.”
“But—”
Bryce lifted his left hand and motioned her to stop. “They want him to continue running the company until a suitable replacement can be found.”
Mattie could tell there was more. Long fingers raked through his hair, mussing the white blond waves. The gold hoop in his left ear flashed in the sunlight before his fingers tugged at it. A sign she’d learned years ago meant he was working through a problem in his head before discussing it.
“Suitable replacement? How can you not be a suitable replacement?” Mattie finally asked when he remained quiet.
“That’s where the problem comes in.” His arms folded over his chest and his gaze held hers. “The board is reluctant to have me replace my father. Factoring in the recent downturn in the economy, two stalled contracts, and one outright canceled, along with the mess created by the article in Upscale, some on the board feel I no longer have the right image to represent Halsey Unlimited, Inc.”
“But that’s crazy.” Mattie rose from her seat and began pacing the wheat-colored Berber carpet beside his desk. “You ran this company for Jacob while he was recovering from his heart attack. You and Richard worked hard to reverse the losses on the stock and even increased the profits. How can you not be the right image?”
Bryce seemed to choose his words carefully. “Some of the board members feel there are aspects of my personal life that reflect poorly on the company.”
Mattie understood just what he was saying. His partial ownership of the Diablo Blanco Club and his reputation as a Dominant were undisputed facts in San Diablo. The board, especially Frieda Makepeace and her husband, Lionel, had tried to demand his resignation over a year ago, when one of Bryce’s former lovers had given details to a reporter with one of the less-reputable gossip magazines. “The Makepeaces are leading the charge, right?”
“They have some of the others concerned with the direction the company would go if I were in charge.”
“Frieda Makepeace is a conniving, backstabbing bitch,” Mattie snapped, dropping onto the arm of the leather sofa. “Everyone knows she’s resented your position in the company for years. She’s fought every attempt you’ve made to diversify the interests of Halsey’s.”
“This time she may actually get what she wants.”
“You aren’t really going to resign?” Mattie shook her head. Rising, she moved closer, her hand gripping the back of one of the chairs facing his desk. “You can’t let her win, Bryce.”
“Then marry me.”
She couldn’t have heard him correctly. “Excuse me?”
Bryce grinned, his white teeth a sharp contrast to his sun-darkened features. “I’m not crazy, Lawrence. Both my dad and Dixon feel that if I present the board with a wife, I have a chance to regain some of the support I’ve lost. Most of the members are only wavering. Makepeace has convinced only a few to side with her, but the others are on the fence.”
“But why me?”
The warm clasp of his hand around her wrist had Mattie’s heart picking up its pace. When he tugged her around the chair to stand directly in front of him, it grew worse. The muscles in her belly clenched, the slick heat between her thighs pulsed, and her breasts ached. Against the lace of her bra, she could feel her nipples harden. She swallowed and focused on steadying her breathing.
“I need a wife that the board can respect and who knows that the interests of the company are paramount.” He watched her face, seeming to read every thought that spun through her head. “She has to be able to face down any objections and possibly take on Frieda and Lionel when it comes to convincing everyone that the marriage is real.”
Mattie shook her head. “I’m not sure—”
“I am.” He gripped her hands in his. “You’re smart, Lawrence. Most of the board likes and respects your hard work and dedication to the company. Hell, some of them keep complaining about your refusal to be promoted since you finished your MBA. It’s a win-win situation.”
Needing to be able to think, Mattie pulled her hands from his and moved back behind the chair, putting distance between her and the man who did such intense damage to her self-control. “How is it a win-win situation?”
“It’s pretty likely that if I’m forced to resign, you’ll lose your job. Anyone replacing me would be an idiot not to keep you, but business doesn’t usually work that way. I doubt whoever takes over would allow your promotion to one of the other management positions for fear of you carrying out some of the policies I implemented.” He shrugged. “Your reputation has never been called into question, and the board would likely see our marriage as a settling influence on me.”
A snort of laughter escaped before Mattie could stop it. Meeting Bryce’s gaze, she smiled and apologized. “Sorry, I just can’t see you ‘settling.’”
Bryce pushed his hands into his pockets and paced away from his desk. Stopping at the liquor cabinet, he poured a measure of his favorite single malt. “That’s the problem, Lawrence. The board doesn’t believe it either.” Watching her, he sipped his drink. “I’m not talking about a quick-fix type of solution here. The marriage would have to be real in every sense. As long as the Makepeaces have any power in the company, we will have to present a united front. No divorce. No separations. No infidelities. We stay together for as long as it takes.”
“How long do you think that will be?” Unsure her legs would continue to hold her upright, Mattie settled into the chair, her hands clenched together in her lap.
“At the very least, five years.” He grimaced, and then sh
rugged. “At most, until the old harridan and her husband croak and quit manipulating the board with their horror stories.”
Mattie couldn’t hold back the laughter at his comment. “That’s a heck of a long time to pretend to be married, Bryce, just to keep my job.”
“Who said anything about pretending?” Bryce moved back to his desk and set his drink on the clear vinyl protector covering the polished wood.
“Well…I…I assumed…” Mattie wasn’t sure what she was going to say, but all thought exited her mind when Bryce leaned forward and braced both hands on the arms of her chair.
“We would arrive and leave work together, live in the same house, share the same bed. It would be a real marriage, Lawrence.”
Mattie sank farther into her chair. She could feel the heat in her face, and her fingers tangled together to keep from latching on to the man and kissing him silly. Inside, she wavered between euphoria and dread. True, she’d fantasized about being with him for years—hell, since the first day she saw him—but marriage? “I…I’m not…” She shook her head and eyed him carefully as he moved back to lean against the desk.
“Too much?”
“I’ve just never…” Mattie waited, then tried again. “I’m going to need time to think this over.”
“How much?” After finishing his drink, Bryce returned it to the bar and leaned against the built-in cabinet to await her answer.
“A week?” she offered.
He shook his head. “That’s too long. I want to make the arrangements so everything is in place before my father’s retirement party in five weeks. I need an answer before you leave tonight.”
“That’s less than an hour.” It was Mattie’s turn to shake her head. She was used to this type of negotiation with the man. His determination to come out on top was apparent, but she was equally resolute about gaining time to seriously think about her decision. “You’re talking about a serious commitment, Bryce. If you aren’t going to give me a week, I need at least the weekend to make a decision.”
