by C. A. Mason
“Is there such a thing as too rich or too handsome?” I asked, breaking off a piece of bread and popping it into her mouth.
She covered her mouth with one hand as she pulled her perfectly arched brows together. I was glad she hadn’t opted for Botox. She was perfect exactly as she was.
I cursed myself for letting my thoughts wander into forbidden territory. She was the woman who put me behind bars. My old lover, the woman who’d stolen my heart, and slipped off my radar the day I heard the verdict passed down. At least I thought she had. Seeing her again, being so close to her, was blurring the lines. I couldn’t afford a mistake at this stage of the game.
“Why do you keep feeding me?” she asked when she finished chewing.
I knew there wouldn’t be many opportunities for honesty in our relationship, so I took advantage of that one. “I like taking care of you.”
She seemed caught off guard. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”
“But you like knowing that your man can take care of you.” It wasn’t a question.
Her current lover was a prosecutor, which made me hate him all the more. He was also half my size and had a whiny voice that grated on my nerves. Yeah, I’d cyber-stalked him. I had to know everything I could about my competition.
“My man can take care of me,” she said, squaring her shoulders.
I laughed, drawing the attention of a few guests at surrounding tables. Once they realized it was me, they quickly looked away. “I’ve seen him. I’m pretty sure you could take him.”
“You’ve seen him?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. “How do you know Jeff? He didn’t mention that to me.”
“I said I’ve seen him, not that I know him.” I knew I had to confess that I’d offered her the contract because I was attracted to her. She’d either be flattered or offended. The latter would make my job more challenging. Not that I wasn’t up for a challenge.
“When did you see him?” she asked, folding her arms over her chest.
It drew my attention to her incredible tits, and I wasn’t above letting her know I appreciated her... assets.
“Stay focused,” she said, pointing toward her eyes. “I asked you a question. When did you see Jeff?”
“Just online.” I shrugged. “When we decided to hire you for this event, I Googled you to make sure you were qualified to handle it.”
“Oh.”
I guessed she bought my explanation because she didn’t challenge me further. Still, I added, “When I saw your picture on your company’s website, I was even more intrigued.”
She blushed, dipping her head. “You were?”
“How could I not be? You’re gorgeous.” I tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, grazing her cheek as I did so. Her skin was as soft as I remembered, and that knowledge made me hungry for more. I told myself to take it slow, to execute my plan carefully, but it wasn’t easy. She was even more tempting than I remembered. I wanted to take her up to my room and remind her how incredible we had been together.
“Thank you.” She gripped my wrist, presumably to pull my hand away, but when her hand seared mine and we both felt the connection, she couldn’t tear herself away any more than I could. “I’m engaged, Blaise.”
“So you’ve said.” My eyes were on her lips as I licked mine.
She swallowed, obviously trying to tear her eyes from my face. “I can’t… we can’t…” She shook her head furiously, finally dropping her hand. “This doesn’t make any sense. I love Jeff. I shouldn’t be attracted to you.”
“You shouldn’t be, but you are.” In so many ways, she was still the sweet girl I remembered, the one who’d turned my world upside down. But I had to remind myself she was also the same woman who told a courtroom full of people she believed I’d committed unspeakable acts. She could have saved me, but she chose not to. It was only fair she got a taste of the poison she’d pumped into my veins. “It’s okay to admit it.”
“No, it’s not.” She pressed the earpiece closer. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”
“You haven’t finished eating.” She stood, ignoring me, but I reached for her wrist and said, “We haven’t finished this conversation. Later, Maura. That’s a promise.”
Chapter Five
I watched Maura move through the crowd, speaking to her staff and directing the events, but all the while, she kept stealing glances at me. I knew that because I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
“She’s a seriously hot piece of ass, isn’t she, boss?”
That came from one of my best fighters. He was a reigning champion with an ego and bank account to back up his title, but I was the one who’d made him rich. Putting him in his place was sport for me, mainly because he reminded me of the guy I used to be: arrogant, cocky, and opinionated. I was still all of those things, but I’d earned the right to be. Our organization was the best because my approach made our fighters hungry. I made them winners because I made it known from the start I didn’t back losers.
“Watch your mouth, Brooks.”
“Hey, hey,” he said, raising his glass. “I didn’t know you were banging her. I’ll back off.”
“I’m not banging her.” Yet. “But I expect you to treat her with respect. If I hear you were giving her a hard time, you’ll have more trouble than you can handle.” Maura still sparked my protective instincts, which was ironic, since I was probably her biggest threat and she didn’t even know it.
“I hear ya,” he muttered, bringing his longneck bottle to his lips.
I knew he wasn’t happy about the reprimand, but I didn’t care. I was the boss, and my guys knew my bite was worse than my bark. I ruled with an iron fist. Anyone who didn’t like it could walk, but they wouldn’t because I offered what every fighter wanted. Fame. Wealth. Success.
“You ready for the fight on Friday night? I hear Smyth’s been hitting it hard. He wants to taste your blood,” I said.
Rousing their fighting spirit was the part of the job I loved most. They wouldn’t win unless they wanted it more than their opponent; I knew that from experience. Fighting at their level had always been my dream, but I’d been too old to start from the bottom by the time I got out of prison. I was grateful I got to be the face at the forefront of the sport I loved so much.
“I’m gonna kick his ass. Don’t worry about that.”
“I hope so,” I said, watching Maura interact with one of her servers. “We’ve got a hell of a lot invested in this. We need to give the fans the fight they paid to see.”
The server was pretending to listen to Maura, but his eyes kept drifting to her cleavage. In another time and place, I would have taken him out, but I had to remain the dignified business man with his eye on the big picture. I hated pretending to be dignified. Beneath my expensive suits and flashy jewelry lurked the heart of a warrior. I’d always be raw, walking a fine line between right and wrong, and more often than not, I crossed that line… to the dark side.
“I know Smyth will give it everything he’s got, but it won’t be enough. He hasn’t got what it takes to beat me.”
I may have said the same thing to my trainers back in the day. Now I knew better than to underestimate my opponents. “Don’t go in there over-confident. You’ll fuck up if you do. He didn’t earn the right to fight you ‘cause he’s a pussy. He’s tough, and he’s smart. Remember that.”
“Yeah, sure.”
I knew Brooks didn’t agree with me. His know-it-all attitude would eventually be his downfall. “If you’ll excuse me.” I walked away without waiting for Brooks’s response. I was tired of wasting my breath on a kid whose ego was bigger than his brain. Besides, I had more important issues to tend to—namely the server disrespecting Maura.
“Blaise,” she said, looking startled when I took her elbow and dragged her away from the kid ogling her. “Is there a problem?”
“Yeah, there is.” I glared at the guy, who wasn’t as young as I’d thought. Mid-twenties. Old enough to know better. “And we both know wha
t it is, don’t we, buddy?”
He stepped back when I stepped closer. “Uh, Mr. Walsh, if I did something to upset you—”
“You know exactly what you did. The lady was trying to have a conversation with you, and you were ogling her tits instead of keeping your eyes where they belonged—on her face. Don’t let it happen again. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.” He swallowed repeatedly as he looked at Maura over my shoulder. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I meant no disrespect.”
She sighed. “Apology accepted, Andrew. Kindly give me a few minutes with Mr. Walsh.” She waited for the server to scurry away before she unleashed on me, her hand on her hip. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? I was having a discussion with my employee. How dare you interrupt, making ridiculous accusations about—”
“He was undressing you with his eyes,” I interjected.
“He was not!”
“He was.” I smiled, slipping a hand into my pocket. “I know because I’m doing the same thing right now.” My eyes glided over her body, settling on all the places I couldn’t wait to brand with my tongue. I leaned in to whisper, “He was thinking about how much he’d love to get you out of that dress.”
“Blaise, stop.” She shivered ever so slightly, just enough for me to know my words were hitting their mark. She set her palms on my chest. When she tipped her head back to look at me, her breathing was labored and her pupils were dilated. She was turned on.
I probably knew her body better than she did. I had countless hours in that prison cell to relive every moment we’d spent together. It was branded in my memory, and even though we’d only been together a short time so many years ago, I felt as though I’d spent a lifetime thinking about it.
“Why are you doing this? I told you, I’m not available.”
Not available. Those words didn’t sit well with me, not when I could hear her saying, “I’m yours. I’ll always be yours.” Always was a long time. Perhaps I needed to remind her of that. “You’re upset with your boyfriend.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m looking for someone to take his place. I’m happy. We’re happy.”
“You’re lying.” I slid my index finger under her chin and tipped up her face. “It takes a liar to know a liar.”
She gasped. Whether it was my brutal honesty or my insult, I had no idea, but I was telling a truth she didn’t want to hear.
“You’re with him because you think you should be. He’s safe.”
“You don’t even know me,” she said.
“I know you better than you think, sweetheart.” I got lost in the eyes I’d seen glaze over with lust, hunger, and desperation. “I may know you better than you know yourself.”
“That’s crazy,” she said breathlessly. “How is that even possible? We just met tonight.”
“Maybe we knew each other in a past life,” I whispered. “It feels like it, doesn’t it? I feel like you know me, like this connection extends beyond physical attraction. Like you can see inside my soul and know the man beneath my mask.”
I was crazy for saying those things, for inviting questions I wasn’t prepared to answer, but she wouldn’t let me have her body unless I got inside her head, and experience had taught me that her body was the way to her heart. She gave her trust, her love, to the man sharing her bed. I needed to be that man.
“This doesn’t make any sense,” she said, her luminous eyes belying her inner turmoil. She was trying to be the dutiful, loyal fiancée, but her heart and body were guiding her into my arms.
“It makes perfect sense. Sometimes you meet someone you feel so connected to, but you can’t explain why. Hasn’t that ever happened to you before?”
Maura’s mouth formed an O, her memory obviously traveling back. “Yes, it has. Which is why I should pretend I never met you.”
She was thinking about me. Matt. She was thinking about the way she’d felt the first time we saw each other. The pull was magnetic, as though we couldn’t repel each other even if we tried. Which we didn’t. We didn’t have to; we didn’t want to. But this time, another man was between us. She had a legitimate reason to fight her attraction to me, but I was a better fighter. No one could beat me. I had too much to gain from winning her over, too much to lose if I couldn’t.
“You can try,” I said, daring her to. “But we both know you’ll go back to your hotel room tonight and lose sleep thinking about me.”
“God, are you always this arrogant?” she asked, dragging her eyes away from mine.
“Call it what you want, but you know I’m telling the truth.” I was having way too much fun building the anticipation.
By the end of the night, she would come to me, begging me to take her and make her forget her troubles, make her remember what it felt like to be with a man who left her wanting for nothing. I had been young the last time we were together, barely twenty-four. While I’d already had dozens of lovers by then, the past six years had given me the opportunity to develop it into an art form. If she enjoyed it before, she’d become addicted now.
I reached into my breast pocket and extracted one of the two key cards to my room. Lowering my hand, I pressed the key discreetly into her palm. “I’m going to call it a night. In case you’d like to continue this conversation in my room when you get off work, it’s room #883.”
“You can’t be serious,” she seethed. “I can’t come to your room.”
I shrugged as though I was indifferent. “Suit yourself. The invitation stands.” I trailed a fingertip down her neck, stopping just short of the scar I knew was beneath her chunky beaded necklace. “If I don’t see you again, it was a pleasure meeting you, Maura.”
***
I was enjoying a scotch in the armchair of my sitting room when I heard her key in the lock. I knew she would come. She couldn’t walk away any more than I could let her walk away.
Maura froze when she saw me. “I wasn’t sure if I should come.”
“I’m glad you did.” I didn’t get up. I didn’t want to intimidate her. I wanted her to come to me and set the pace for where and when the evening would end. “Come in.”
“Thank you.” She slipped inside, letting the door close. Setting the key on the writing desk just inside the foyer, she failed to look at me. “I don’t want you to misunderstand. I just came here to talk.”
“Okay.” I held up my near-empty glass. “Would you like a drink while we talk?”
She seemed surprised that I was so willing to accept her explanation. But I wasn’t interested in pushing her into something she wasn’t ready for. It had to be her decision, her timetable. I’d waited this long. I could wait a little longer.
“That would be nice, thank you.” She stood in front of the armchair across the room.
I made my way to the mini-bar. “Would you like a glass of wine? Chardonnay?” I remembered that was her drink of choice, but it wasn’t specific enough to raise any red flags. Most of the women I’d dated liked white wine.
“Perfect, thank you.”
She was uneasy being alone with me, and I knew why. Our physical chemistry was intense, more so since we were alone. Taking my time with the drinks so she could collect herself, I finally turned and crossed the room.
Passing the wine glass to her, I said, “To the woman who exceeded my expectations this evening.”
“Thank you.” She touched her glass to mine. “I’m glad you were pleased.”
“I was.” I smiled. “I’m also pleased that you’re here. Whatever the reason, it’s a pleasure to spend more time with you.”
Her eyes traveled to the sofa. “You mentioned something about future opportunities with your company. Do you have any specific events in mind?”
The promotional events with my company could keep her busy on a full-time basis, but I wasn’t interested in talking business until she acknowledged the real reason for her visit. She was intrigued by me, and I wanted her to admit it.
“Let’s have a seat,” I said, gesturing toward the sofa.
>
“Okay.”
She walked ahead of me, giving me a perfect opportunity to scan her tight little ass. The years had been good to her, and I was grateful. Implementing my plan would have been more difficult if we lacked the physical attraction that had ignited our relationship years ago.
I kept a respectable distance between us when we sat. I wanted her to come to me. “Did you really come here to discuss business? Or was there something else on your mind?”
She took a sip of wine followed by another. “It’s lovely,” she said, raising her glass.
“And you’re evading the question. Why?”
“I’m conflicted,” she admitted. “I don’t understand what happened between us downstairs.”
“Yes, you do.” I inched slightly closer. “You were drawn to me, just like I was drawn to you. It’s as simple as that.”
“There’s nothing simple about this,” she said, sounding frustrated. “I’m engaged to be married. I’m not supposed to feel this way.”
I tried not to let my amusement show. She’d always looked adorable when she was frustrated, like a wide-eyed two-year-old on the verge of throwing a temper tantrum. “You can’t control the way you feel, sweetheart.”
“Yes, I can. I mean, I should be able to.” She gripped the stem of her wine glass and inched forward on the couch. “What kind of wife will I be if I can be persuaded by the first good-looking man who propositions me?”
I could tell I had my work cut out for me convincing her that we had something special. “How long have you been with him?”
“Three years,” she said, looking miserable.
“Have you ever… been tempted before?” I should be grateful that she’d acknowledged she was drawn to me, but it was obvious her morals would make it difficult for her to act on it.
“No, that’s just it.” She wandered to the window, gazing out at the city skyline. “I’ve never been tempted. Maybe it was because of the way we left things tonight. I was angry and frustrated with him. No matter what I say, he doesn’t seem to hear me.”
