Dynasties:The Elliots, Books 7-12

by Various Authors

  Fin was a woman of contradictions and that made Jessie like her—something Jessie wasn’t sure she wanted to happen. What if Jessie liked Fin and revealed her secret, but Fin—

  “Oh my God, wait until you see this.” Scarlet breezed into the conference room, a swooshy tangerine skirt flipping around her legs as she practically ran to the last empty space on the layout wall. “C’mere!” she demanded to Jessie. “Check this out!”

  Jessie circled the oval table in the center of the room, her gaze locked on a splash of bright yellow on the oversize page proof. Scarlet pushpinned the image into the corkboard with an air of complete victory.

  “Look at you!” Scarlet exclaimed, standing back to admire the work.

  Jessie stared at the picture, and her heart reared up like a stunned stallion. “Oh!”

  The photographer had captured it all: her sideways glance of flirtation, along with a come-peek-at-me smile of invitation to a man who did just that. Cade’s hungry eyes combined with just enough slack in his jaw to prove the timeless power of a half-unzipped sweater and a black lace bra.

  “Is that not the sexiest ‘Color Me Charismatic’ we have ever had?” Scarlet half giggled with delight. “You two look like you’re about to run off to the next bedroom and—”

  “You should blur the faces.”

  Jessie jumped at the sound of Cade’s voice behind her.

  Scarlet whirled around and sliced him with a look as if he’d suggested heresy. “Are you out of your mind, Cade? The faces are the whole shot. All that chemistry! It’s a wonder the page doesn’t ignite. Good heavens, that designer will move ten thousand of those sweaters in January, thanks to every woman who dreams of having a man drool over her that way.”

  Jessie turned back to the picture, because the sight of Cade in two dimensions was only slightly easier to bear than Cade in real life. Especially when he wore that grim expression he only donned when he was about to make a directive that his staff wouldn’t like.

  “Blur the faces,” he said again, ignoring all of Scarlet’s exuberance and dropping some files and an electronic day planner at his usual seat. “That’s the magazine’s policy.”

  “Only when we use anonymous women-in-the-street shots, and we risk getting sued,” Scarlet countered. “We’re wasting a tremendous opportunity if we don’t leave your faces in this picture. Don’t you agree, Jessie?”

  She felt both their demanding gazes on her. If it were up to her, she’d turn the thing into a billboard in Times Square. She loved the picture, but obviously, it didn’t have the same impact on Cade.

  “I have no intention of suing,” she said calmly, as she made her way around the conference room table to where her notebook and files sat next to Cade’s. Wordlessly, she slid her stuff down to leave a few empty chairs between them. “If you think the feature will be more effective leaving the photographer’s subjects unblurred, go right ahead.” She managed a blank look at Cade. “Unless you’re worried about your reputation, Cade.”

  He opened a file, his face impassive. “I’m not.”

  Scarlet snorted softly. “I guess hearts could break all over Manhattan when they see his attention snared by the Lady in Yellow.”

  “No hearts will break,” he said, using an apathetic tone Jessie imagined he’d practiced on his four sisters to deflect teasing. “I think we should keep it consistent with what we do every month. Our readers expect anonymity in this feature. It’s part of the beauty of why CMC works so well.”

  Raw disappointment squeezed her throat. So much for Mr. There Will Be No Complications, the man who would be proud of her, of their relationship. He was ashamed. Embarrassed. Mortified that he’d ever drooled.

  Jessie didn’t trust her voice, so she merely took a seat without saying a word.

  “Let Fin decide,” Scarlet suggested, as their boss walked into the conference room.

  “Let Fin decide what?” Fin threw a friendly smile at the group, smoothing her silk skirt as she took her seat. “What am I deciding now?”

  “Look at this ‘Color Me Charismatic’ layout,” Scarlet insisted, quickly unpinning the page to bring it to Fin. “Isn’t it fabulous? Cade wants to blur the faces.”

  Fin leaned forward and studied the art.

  Scarlet tapped her foot expectantly.

  Cade casually poked at his electronic device, as though the decision didn’t really concern him at all.

  And all Jessie could do was hold her breath.

  “This is…” Fin looked up slowly, her gaze zeroing in on Jessie. “Amazing.”

  Jessie managed a tight smile, the air still trapped in her lungs.

  Fin tore her attention from Jessie, looked down to the picture and back up at her again, giving both a healthy dose of scrutiny. Oh God. “You look…”

  Jessie’s heart walloped against her chest, stealing every drop of blood from her head and threatening never to send any back. She blinked away a splash of light-headedness. Here it comes. Here it comes.

  “You look…”

  Like me. “Yes?”

  “So different without your glasses, Jessie. You should get contacts.”

  Relief forced out her breath in a whoosh and she covered it with a quick laugh. Touching the frames of her glasses, she leaned back into her chair. “You think?”

  The total lameness of the response must have been lost on Scarlet who clicked an impatient fingernail on the layout. “To blur or not to blur, Fin. That is the question.”

  “Well, I don’t know.” This time Fin looked at the picture and up at Cade, her expression morphed into a tease. Of course, Fin wasn’t stupid. She’d walked in on Jessie and Cade together in his apartment. Surely she suspected that something more than intern training had been going on that afternoon. “You look pretty hot yourself, Cade. This expression could move some sweaters and magazines.”

  Cade shrugged. “I like when CMC is anonymous. I think it gives the whole feature a mysterious quality that readers like. But, hey, if you guys want to use me as the poster boy for sweater worship, feel free.” He shot a lazy grin at Jessie that fried her nerve endings.

  Scarlet swooped up the layout with a smug look of satisfaction. “Sweater worship. You’re brilliant, Cade. That’s the headline.”

  She tacked the layout back up and flitted out the door. “Have a great meeting, you guys.”

  And somehow Jessie survived the next forty-five minutes, but only by not taking one more look at Cade in two or three dimensions.

  Until the very last moment, when Fin closed up her leather portfolio and stood to leave, tilting her head toward the picture that hung on the wall.

  “Perhaps this is uncomfortable,” she said quietly. “I didn’t want to make a point of it in front of Scarlet, but if either of you prefers anonymity in that photo, I’ll back you on that.”

  Jessie felt Cade’s gaze on her, but she kept her attention on Fin. “Thank you, Fin. That’s very kind of you.”

  Fin nodded. “Why don’t you discuss it privately for a few minutes?” She scooped up her papers and headed toward the door. “I have a personal phone call to make, Jessie, but after that, I’ll meet you in the lobby. We’re off to the Revlon offices for an advertising meeting.”

  Before either of them could argue, Fin left the room, and closed the door behind her.

  “That was awkward,” Cade said.

  “That was sweet.” Their simultaneous assessments cancelled each other out.

  “Sweet?” Cade choked the word out. “What was sweet about it?”

  Jessie swiveled her conference room chair in his direction, something she hadn’t done for the entire meeting. Did she think he wouldn’t notice that she didn’t look at him? He braced himself as she reached up and took off her glasses, and gave him one endless gaze rich with question and meaning.

  The only problem was, he didn’t know the answers and couldn’t interpret her look.

  “I think she was being very classy,” Jessie said quietly. “She realizes this might b
e prickly for us.”

  “Precisely. Awkward, as I said.”

  “It doesn’t have to be, Cade.”

  For the zillionth time, Cade wondered exactly how she’d react if he’d told her he’d overheard her telephone conversation. That he knew she saw the shadowing assignment as a chance to “dig around.” That she’d promised someone that she’d be back. And that she loved that same someone, whoever he was.

  “I’m just keeping things professional,” he said simply. If he showed his cards now and called her on the corporate espionage, she’d run away. And he’d hurt in a wholly different kind of way.

  Besides, he rationalized, if she disappeared, he’d never know who’d hired her and he wouldn’t risk making that mistake. He’d made enough mistakes where Jessie Clayton was concerned; at least he would find out who sent the mole into his operation.

  “As far as that is concerned—” He indicated the layout wall. “I still believe we should blur the faces.”

  She followed his finger to the image, a smile tugging at her pretty mouth. “I like it.”

  “Of course you do,” he said wryly. “You’ve got me by the…eyeballs in that picture.”

  A hint of color darkened her cheeks. “That’s not why I like it.”

  He waited, expecting her to elaborate.

  “I like it because…” Her gaze slid to him and she leaned closer, a whisper of her perfume landing on him with the impact of a blow to the chest. “That was a special day.”

  She was either a trained actress or a natural-born liar. Because everything in her face and eyes screamed that she was telling the truth.

  “Yes, it was.” Past tense being all important.

  Surprising him, she stood, and nothing could stop his gaze from traveling down over the khaki-colored pencil skirt that hugged her slender body and the black knit top that curved into her waist and over her rounded breasts.

  Cursing the blood rush to his loins, he forced himself to look at his PDA. He picked up the device and absently clicked today’s schedule. “We better make a decision. I have a meeting and you’ll be late for Revlon.”

  When he looked up, she stood in front of the layout wall, her hand on one hip, her heart-shaped backside notched maddeningly to one side as she studied the picture.

  The remembered feel of that backside under his hands and against his body clutched at him, and he mentally cursed the reflexive response of his body.

  “Well,” he said, forcing his tone to belie the strain she was causing in his lower half, “what do you think?”

  She spun on her heels and faced him. “I think we need to talk. Can I come over tonight?” Unconsciously, she smoothed her hands over her hips and they rested on her thighs.

  Was that a nervous gesture, or some subtle body language to seduce him? God, would he ever trust a woman again?

  Maybe seducing him was part of her game. Well, hell, he wasn’t a moron. He could have sex and not spill company secrets all over the sheets.

  Why not? If she was offering it? He didn’t have to listen to some inner voice that said she was special, different, fresh.

  Of course not. He was a red-blooded American male surging with testosterone. He could have casual sex. It didn’t have to rock his world just because last weekend had.

  “Sure,” he said with a forced half smile. “I’ll be home tonight.”

  “Great.”

  He could have sworn she paled a bit. Was she expecting him to say no? Had he called her bluff?

  “And what about the ‘Color Me Charismatic’ picture?” she asked. “Shall we hide or go public?”

  “I have nothing to hide, Jessie. Do you?”

  She brushed a strand of silky hair from her face, but didn’t look away. “We’ll talk tonight,” she said.

  Unless she planned to be brutally honest with him, he doubted they’d be doing much talking. And the thought left him with a jumble of mixed emotions and a hard-on that threatened to return all day.

  Jessie had resisted the urge to wear a little extra makeup or some seriously tight jeans for her visit to Cade’s that night. She felt uncomfortable as it was, having to initiate the date. Her only concession to vanity was to lose her glasses and unbraid her hair.

  But as she stood outside Cade’s door, she suddenly wondered if that would be enough to melt the iciness she’d been feeling for four days.

  No. She didn’t have to pretend to be some kind of supermodel for Cade. She wasn’t here to jump his bones, anyway. She wanted some answers. If Cade had changed his mind and did a three-sixty from “leave your toothbrush here” to “I’m just being professional,” then she had a right to know. And to know why.

  She tapped on the door.

  No more wondering. No more fretting. No more trying to analyze his every nuance. They’d slept together and whispered intimate endearments. They’d explored each other’s body and tenderly given and taken the most exquisite pleasures.

  They’d—

  Cade opened his apartment door and all Jessie could do was stare. And imagine doing all those things again. Immediately. Without talking.

  He wore jeans. And nothing else but an expression that somehow mixed disdain and expectancy.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Hi.”

  Her gaze dropped to the bare, broad planes of his chest, to the smattering of dark golden hair that curled deliciously between his nipples and then flattened in a single line that traveled over a well-defined six-pack and led directly to his unbuttoned fly.

  Not fair, she almost whispered. So not fair.

  “Come on in.” He widened the door and stepped back.

  She glanced at his bare feet, where worn jeans broke over his arch and the tiniest golden hairs on his toes matched the sleek tuft on his chest.

  “Are you busy?” she asked.

  Stupid question. He was half-naked, with weary shadows around his eyes. He’d probably been resting, or watching TV, or…

  As she followed him into the living room, she saw the answer to her question all over the table in his dining area. Files and papers, an open laptop, a few layout pages from Charisma.

  “You’re working.”

  “Yep.” He directed her away from the pile of papers to the living room and turned to go into the kitchen. “And I’m just about ready for a beer. Are you thirsty? Hungry?”

  She watched the corded muscles of his back tense as he moved. Yes. She was starved and parched. For that.

  “I’ll have some water.”

  He returned in a minute with a beer in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. “You can sit down,” he said, handing her the water.

  She perched on the edge of a club chair. “What are you working on?” she asked as she opened the bottle, trying to ignore the fact that he didn’t open it for her.

  He took a long drink of beer and dropped onto his leather sofa. The one where they’d made love just a few days ago.

  “Numbers,” he said. “I’ve got a meeting with Liam Elliott tomorrow morning.”

  “Liam.” She spun through her mental file of Elliotts. “He’s the financial operating officer of EPH, right?” And Michael Elliott’s second son.

  Cade nodded. “He’s also a good buddy of mine, so he generally cuts me a lot of slack on the financials. But, now…” His voice trailed off and he took another deep pull of beer.

  She watched his throat work the liquid and her own got extremely dry at the sight. “Now, what?”

  His gaze tapered over the bottle. “You know what’s going on at EPH, Jessie. The future CEO of the company hinges on one year’s profit percentage.”

  She sipped her water and he continued to watch her expectantly. This was going to be all up to her. “Cade, I didn’t come over here to talk about financials.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “What’s on your mind, Jessie?”

  “Are you serious?” She let her shoulders drop as the disappointment thunked to the bottom of her stomach. “Am I supposed to act like last week
end never happened? Are you going to pretend it didn’t?”

  He set the bottle on the table and leaned all the way forward, resting his elbows on his knees and melting her with a smoky gaze. “How would you like me to act, Jessie?”

  She blew out a disgusted breath. “I don’t want you to act, Cade. That’s the point. I want the real, honest, kind, loving—”

  “Loving?”

  Her fingertips tingled with numbness at the incredulous way he said it.

  “Well, yes.” She squared her shoulders and looked hard at him. She hated to say it, but she had to. “Or was that purely physical lust with absolutely no possibility for anything else?”

  His gray eyes warmed imperceptibly, a change that only a woman who’d made a science out of studying him would notice.

  “Love,” he said softly, “is irrevocably tied to trust.”

  She stared at him. “What do you mean, Cade? You are acting like I did something to breach your trust. You were the one who issued an executive edict that went directly against my wishes.” She shook her head, the point so clear to her and yet he looked like she was lying. “And you were the one who didn’t bother to tell me, but let me find out through the grapevine. And you—”

  “And you are in love with someone else.”

  Her jaw dropped as she processed the words. “What?”

  “Not to mention the fact that you are using Charisma and Fin and me to dig around for competitive information.”

  All she could do was blink at him. “What on earth are you talking about?”

  “I heard you,” he said quietly, his whole body stone-still as he delivered his announcement. “I went to your apartment on Monday afternoon and I heard you on the phone telling someone this was an opportunity to dig. Telling someone you loved him.”

  Relief and understanding and something she couldn’t begin to define practically shook her down to her shoes. “Oh my God, Cade.” She fell back into her chair as realization punched her. “I was talking to my father.”