The Hearts Series

by L.H. Cosway

  A long breath escaped her, and her entire body seemed to sag. “He is nice.”

  “You see? Mr King is a fool not to see what’s right in front of him. Unfortunately, fools can never be taught. They have to learn on their own.”

  Absorbing my words, she nodded and sounded sincere when she said, “You’re right. I’m sorry for how I spoke to you.”

  I smiled. “Ah, don’t worry about it. Water off a duck’s back.”

  She moved away and put her lip gloss back in her handbag. I was about to leave when she looked at me seriously through the mirror. “He pulls you in, you know. You start off thinking the ball is in your court, but it never is. Before you know it, you’ve fallen for him, and it’s too late to go back to the way things were.”

  Absorbing her words, I couldn’t quite tell if this was a warning or if she was just thinking out loud. Nevertheless, I gave her a sober nod. Leaving Mila in the ladies’ bathroom, I made my way back to King’s office, intent on having a serious word with him about his ex. However, as I reached his office door I paused, because a strange-looking woman was just leaving. She was probably in her fifties, had dyed red hair, and clothes that reminded me of a gypsy.

  “Oh, hi,” I said, stepping back to let her go by.

  She only gave me an ambiguous smile before continuing on her way. “Odd” didn’t begin to cover it. I’d never seen a woman who looked like her around here before. Shaking off the strangeness, I remained full of determination to confront King about Mila. That was until I walked into the room and saw him sitting on the sofa by the window, an open bottle of Macallan in front of him. He poured some into a glass, knocked it back in one go, and then repeated the process. Everything I’d planned on saying immediately fled my mind as concern took its place. I’d seen him drink at work before, but not like this. The bottle was more than half empty, and I knew it had been full when I’d seen it in the cabinet that morning.

  Piano music was playing, something classical, but it was low enough that you wouldn’t be able to hear it outside the office. I recognised it as the same piece he’d played when I’d visited his apartment. Memories of that night entered my mind, how absorbed he’d been, completely unaware of my presence, and how beautiful his music had sounded to my ears. Quietly, I sat on the other side of the couch and eyed him. He didn’t look at me, just focused on the drink in his glass.

  “Has something happened?” I asked tentatively.

  King glanced at me, then shook his head.

  “Then why are you drinking?”

  He arched a brow. “Because I can.”

  There was something in his expression that made me think I shouldn’t push the matter. Still, I couldn’t help asking, “Who was that woman I just saw leaving?”

  There was a long silence before he spoke. “Just a relative asking after Mum.”

  Clearly, he had no intention of telling me any more details and didn’t seem in the mood to talk. I stood and turned to leave. Before I could do so, King grabbed my wrist.

  “Don’t go,” he pleaded, those eyes holding me captive.

  I sat back down. We exchanged a meaningful look before he spoke again. “I’m sorry. I’m a bit off today. I’m just worried about Mum.”

  Reaching out, I placed a hand on his. “That’s understandable. Maybe you should take the day. Go be with her. Is she still at the hospital?”

  King nodded, and then cast his eyes to mine; his seemed…desperate. “Would you do it? She enjoys your company.” He stopped, ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up. “I’m just not in the right frame of mind to see her at the moment.”

  I stared at him, this man who at first had seemed so put together and in control. When I looked at him now, he appeared vulnerable. It showed just how much he cared for his mother. I guessed that maybe she was the only family he had. He had definitely never mentioned a father or any brothers or sisters.

  I was so lost in studying him that I almost didn’t notice when his hand went to my knee. I looked down, then back up to his eyes, which seemed to be begging me for comfort. God, how those eyes made me weak. They made me want to give him anything he might think to ask for.

  “King,” I said, a quiet warning.

  He didn’t breathe a word, just squeezed my knee and leaned in closer. His hand started to move up my thigh, slow and torturous. Every tiny hair on my body stood on end as I inhaled his fresh cologne mixed with the sharp tang of whiskey. It was an intoxicating mixture, and I had no words. No funny lines or sarcastic comments to defuse the situation.

  I had nothing, and Oliver King was pushing a boundary I was helpless to defend.

  “Oliver,” I said then, swallowing thickly on his name.

  He leaned closer, breathing me in, and before I knew it, his mouth was on my ear, his tongue flicking over the soft, sensitive skin. He sucked my earlobe into his mouth, and I felt myself grow wet and achy in an instant. I huffed out a breath, trembled, and fisted my hand in his shirt, meaning to push him away, but instead only succeeded in pulling him closer. He groaned and caught my chin in his hand, turning my face to his. His mouth was almost on mine when I quickly turned away, his lips colliding with my jaw. The waft of alcohol was the stark reminder I needed to be strong and put a stop to this.

  King was drunk and upset about his mother, though I still wasn’t sure exactly what had happened to her. He’d never be acting like this if it weren’t for his current state. I needed to be the level-headed one right then. Plus, Eleanor and Gillian were right on the other side of the door. They could walk in at any moment.

  Pushing away from him, I stood, still feeling his lips on my earlobe and my chin, the memory giving me unwanted butterflies in my stomach. God, he was beautiful. It would be oh, so easy to give in, but the momentary pleasure wasn’t worth the long-term unemployment. And unemployed was exactly what I’d be if I were to let anything untoward happen with King. Maybe not right away, but I’d lose my job eventually. It was inevitable.

  “You should go home and rest. You’re not yourself today.”

  “Alexis, come here,” he replied, completely ignoring what I’d said. He had sex in his eyes, and it was pretty much impossible not to melt at the way he was looking at me. There was something about having a strong, powerful man look at me with such need that just melted my bones. And it went to show how much self-control I actually had, because I didn’t allow myself to give in.

  I was already walking backward when I said, “I’m going back to work now.”

  I didn’t allow him to get another word in as I turned and swiftly left his office.

  Ten

  Five minutes later I was sitting next to Eleanor, who was diligently typing away when King finally emerged. I felt safe in the fact that my coworkers were there. It meant he couldn’t say anything about what had just happened between us. He stood in the doorway for a full minute, and I could practically feel him staring a hole in my skull before he spoke.

  “Gillian, cancel my afternoon meetings. I have a family emergency I need to attend to.”

  “Of course,” said Gillian, a mixture of concern and nosiness marking her features. “Is everything okay?”

  “It will be,” King replied stiffly before he strode right by her and out of the office. Once he was gone, I felt like I could breathe again. My brain was a scramble of thoughts as I tried to make sense of the morning. King had obviously been going through a tough time, and his behaviour was a moment of weakness. I was just glad I had the strength not to let it go any further than it did.

  For the next few hours I plunged myself into work, keeping my head full of numbers and appointments so as not to think about my boss. Every time I found my mind wandering to the way it felt when he touched me, or how intoxicating it was to have his mouth on my skin, his lips sucking, I forced myself to concentrate on data. Data wasn’t sexy. It was dull and flat and two-dimensional, and the perfect bucket of cold water for my wandering imagination.

  I didn’t see King for the rest of the day,
nor did I see much of him for the following few days. I went out with Eleanor and Gillian for lunch and avoided our strange bathroom chess games. He never called me out on the fact that I was avoiding him, which was a relief. And after a while it became easier to simply concentrate on being good at my job, rather than cultivating a surreal friendship with my boss.

  When it was finally Eleanor’s last day, Gillian and I got together to organise for a cake to be delivered to the office. There wasn’t a big going-away party, because Eleanor had stated firmly that she didn’t want one, and you didn’t eff with Eleanor’s wishes. I thought the least we could do was get her a cake, especially since she’d been so helpful training me into the job.

  It was just after five when a couple of the other admin workers came over to our area to share the cake. We’d ordered red velvet, since that was Eleanor’s favourite. I stood chatting with my coworkers, a paper plate in hand, when suddenly I felt his presence. He’d been ignoring me somewhat, though I couldn’t tell if it was because he was embarrassed by his drunken behaviour or angry at me for shutting him down.

  In my peripheral vision I saw King come to stand behind me. He observed the gathering, which was comprised mostly of women, and I pretended I hadn’t noticed him. Then I felt his hand lightly touch my elbow, followed by his breath on my ear.

  “Alexis, can I have a word in private, please?”

  I turned my head to him slightly and nodded, my posture stiff. “Sure.”

  He gestured for me to follow him into his office. Once I was inside, he shut the door. I still had my cake in hand, and found myself clutching the paper plate like a life raft, no clue what this was all about. Was I going to be given my marching orders? No, it couldn’t be that.

  King stood in front of his desk, leaning back against it and folding his arms as he eyed me. I wore a grey pencil skirt and a modest cream blouse, an ensemble I’d never be caught dead in outside the office. It was like a costume, something that made me feel like a different person, someone who belonged here in the City with the privileged and educated. King wore a navy suit with a slim red tie. He could have been a politician if he weren’t so handsome.

  I always wondered if men felt like they had the upper hand when they wore a suit. It certainly seemed that way to me.

  “We can’t go on like this,” said King.

  “Like what?” I asked, playing dumb.

  “You know what. You’re avoiding me, I’m avoiding you. There’s an…awkwardness. I don’t do awkward. I want to go back to the way things were.” His huff of annoyance almost made me laugh. I swear, sometimes he was a terrible communicator, like a frustrated kid or something.

  “Your behaviour the last time we spoke was worrying to me. I was trying to help.”

  “And I wanted you to help.”

  “Not in the right way, Oliver.”

  His eyes flared when I said his name, and I couldn’t tell if it was because he liked it or because he didn’t. Before I knew it, he stepped away from the desk and came towards me until there very little space left between us.

  “I’ve missed you,” he confessed.

  My expression softened. “I’ve missed you, too.”

  He levelled his eyes on me, his attention wandering over my features. “Can we put it behind us?”

  I thought about it for only a moment before answering, “It’s already forgotten. Put her there, buddy.” I held out my hand to him, and his lips twitched as we shook.

  “So, is there enough cake left for one more?” he asked, smiling.

  “Of course,” I answered, and with that we went back out to join the others.

  It was difficult getting used to not having Eleanor around at first, but I quickly got the hang of things. Soon enough Gillian and I were a team to be reckoned with, and although we didn’t click quite so well as friends, we were perfect for each other when it came to work. Gillian was the best organiser, and I was the best bilateral thinker. In other words, I could see the bigger picture and was good at figuring out problems or working my way around time-sensitive emergencies. And when it came to this particular industry, there were a lot of those.

  It was fast-paced and exciting, and no two days were ever the same. I also began to see how addictive King’s job could be. He always said he only made decisions based on evidence and fact, but a lot of the time the whole thing felt like a bit of a gamble to me. There was a thrill to his position, not to mention a great deal of power, and I could certainly see why he’d chosen a banking career over playing piano like his mum.

  We began having lunch together again, and often King would have a drink. I hadn’t noticed it at the beginning, but it was now clear to me that he was pretty big into his liquor. Not in a way that seemed like he had a problem, but in a way that made me think it could easily turn into one. I supposed he needed something to deal with the stress of playing with millions of pounds on a daily basis.

  It had been a long week, and I was looking forward to a relaxing weekend of doing nothing at all. I’d arrived home with Indian takeout, changed into my pyjamas, and settled in front of the TV. The forkful of chicken korma was literally halfway to my mouth when my phone began ringing. Sighing, I put it down and answered the call. King’s name flashed across the screen. As soon as I hit “accept” and held it to my ear, he began to speak.

  “Please tell me you have a valid passport.”

  His statement got me curious. “And if I do?”

  “If you do, you can have another bonus. Gillian just called, almost in tears, might I add, to tell me she’s lost hers and won’t be able to get a replacement for at least three working days. She’s being emotional, and I don’t like that. You’d swear she ran over my cat or something.”

  “Oh,” I said, brow crinkling. “You have a cat?”

  “Turn of phrase.”

  “Right.”

  I was unsure if I should laugh or start to panic. I now understood what was going on. All week Gillian and I had been planning King’s work trip to Rome. He was supposed to be meeting with some businessman who owned a chain of hotels, and who insisted on face-to-face business dealings. All of this was being done on behalf of a mysterious silent investor of King’s, and Gillian was supposed to be going along on the trip. The idea of me going had never even come up. Until now, that was.

  “I need you to come to Rome in Gillian’s place, Alexis.”

  My voice was quiet when I responded, “Do you think that’s wise?” We’d both been doing so well at keeping things platonic. Going on a trip and spending lots of one-on-one time together could potentially mess with that.

  “At this point, I don’t have another choice. There’s too much work for me to handle alone. I need you.”

  It struck me that he wasn’t telling me I had to go. He was leaving it open, giving me the option to say no. I couldn’t say no, of course, but that didn’t mean I didn’t appreciate his sensitivity. We both knew that alone time outside the confines of the office was pretty shaky territory for us.

  I let out a breath. “I’ll come. The flights are for ten in the morning, right? Do you need me to contact the airline and change the name on Gillian’s ticket?”

  There was definite relief in his voice the next time he spoke. “Thank you. And yes, that would be hugely helpful.”

  “All right. I’ll see you in the morning, then.”

  “See you in the morning, Alexis.”

  We hung up, and I just sat there for a minute, my appetite for Indian takeout momentarily lost, which was so not okay. Indian was my favourite, damn it! The idea of going to Rome was exciting, don’t get me wrong, but the effort I’d have to expend keeping myself in check with King was scary. There was no denying we had a connection, and it was only amplified when we were alone together.

  This trip was certainly going to be an interesting one.

  I packed my swimsuit.

  I wasn’t sure why, because I was fairly certain it wasn’t even going to be very warm in Rome at this time of year, but
I packed it anyway. I hadn’t been to the beach in who knew how long. Maybe I could fit in a trip while King was meeting with the “suits.” That’s what I’d started calling them, because they all looked the same to me, just a bunch of walking Hugo Boss advertisements.

  King had his driver come collect me from outside my building that morning. His bags were in the car, which it was my job to have checked, and apparently he’d meet me in the VIP lounge before boarding. Well, I was sitting in that very same lounge, and there was still no sign of him. I was beginning to worry, since our flight was supposed to board in just twenty minutes.

  In order to pass the time, I pulled out my phone and checked my emails. It was a pleasant surprise when I saw one from Bradley titled “Some Pictures from the Shoot ;-).” Opening it up eagerly, I quickly downloaded them and started to browse. There were a couple from early on in the day, showing me with the other models. Then I got to the ones of me and King, and I paused. They were…well, I wasn’t quite sure how to describe them. All I knew was that they weren’t what I needed to be seeing right then, especially since I was trying to keep my hands off the man.

  The first showed me straddling him as he sat on the chair, leaning casually back and staring up at me with unmistakable heat in his eyes. Wow. Now I understood what Bradley had meant when he said we photographed well together. It was only a picture, and yet you could practically feel the need pouring out of both of us. Either we were really good actors, or we wanted each other…badly.

  I swallowed and scrolled to the next one, where we stood by the studio window, King’s arms around me and his lips at my ear. Seriously, this was more like porn to me than fashion. Without consciously realising it, I was squeezing my thighs together, my skin growing hot as I sat there, remembering. There were about ten pictures in total, and I flicked through them more times than bears mentioning. I was studying the one of me on King’s lap again when someone suddenly spoke low in my ear.