Undeniable Demands

by Andrea Laurence

  That was the last straw. Snapping her head around, she caught Wade smirking at her backside as though he agreed with his uncouth companion’s assessment.

  She returned to their table. “I’m sorry, what was that? I can assure you my attitude was just fine until you started bullying me around. You may live in a world where you always get your way, but it’s not going to happen this time. And neither your money nor your penis is going to change that. I’m not interested in either of them.”

  With that, she picked up her drink, watching as Wade assessed her with curious eyes. He’d had the good sense to shelve the smirk. “On second thought,” she said with a sickeningly sweet smile, “I think I will take this drink. You could use a little cooling off.” With a flick of her wrist Tori emptied the glass into Wade’s lap.

  The icy cold drink shocked him upright out of the chair, sending ice cubes scattering across the floor. Tori turned and walked back to the bar, ignoring his stream of profanity muffled by his friends’ howls of laughter. She paid her bill, leaving a nice tip for Skippy, and headed for the door.

  Curiosity was nagging at her, but she wouldn’t allow herself to turn around and see what Wade was doing. She would give anything to see that smug look wiped off his face, and she was pretty sure that would do it. But looking back meant that she cared. She didn’t want to give Wade that satisfaction. Instead, she marched out the front door and headed to her truck. She was nearly to the corner of the building when she heard rapid, heavy footsteps coming up behind her.

  “What is your problem?” Wade snarled over her shoulder.

  As calmly as she could, Tori turned to look at him. Even with a tight jaw and an angry red flush tainting his perfect, aristocratic features, he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen in person. And she hated that that was her first thought when she looked at him. Those kinds of thoughts weren’t helpful when dealing with the enemy. And that’s what he was, despite the facade he put up to play nice and the way her body reacted when he was close by.

  Judging by the snarl that had replaced his cajoling smile and the giant wet spot sprawled across his pants, she was pretty sure he was done playing nice. And that was fine by her. It would be much easier to deal with Wade when he wasn’t trying to be charming. It just crossed the wires in her brain and made her think unproductive thoughts.

  “My problem?” Tori said coolly. “I don’t have a problem. You’re the one who needs something, not me.”

  “And dumping a drink in my lap is the solution?”

  Now it was Tori’s turn to shrug dismissively, as he had. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. You all were having too much fun at my expense. Just because you have drinks with the mayor doesn’t mean you can bully me.”

  Wade narrowed his green gaze at her, slowly stepping forward until she found herself backed up against the crumbling brick wall of the Hen. With one hand planted on the wall on each side of her, he’d made sure there was nowhere for her to go. Tori straightened her spine and looked defiantly at him as he closed in.

  “I never had any intention of bullying you, Miss Sullivan.”

  Tori tried not to watch the soft curve of his lips as he spoke to her, but he was so close she had little choice. She remembered how she’d once fantasized about kissing those lips. Of course, that was before he turned on her and threw her out of his company on her rear end. The surge of anger doused the old memories, and her gaze met his.

  “What then?” she asked, her voice laced with sarcasm. “Were you going to take your friend’s suggestion and seduce me? Certainly you’re so masterful in the bedroom that one good romp would change my mind, right?”

  Wade moved a fraction of an inch closer to her. For a moment Tori tensed, thinking he might be leaning in to kiss her. She wanted him to, and she didn’t. She’d probably thoroughly enjoy it and then slap him when it was over. It was hard to think with him this close. He stopped short of touching his lips to hers. She could feel his warm breath on her skin.

  “I’ve never had a woman offer me real estate after sex, but it wouldn’t be the first time one of my lovers felt the need to repay me for a fantastically pleasurable night together.”

  Just the words fantastically pleasurable wrought a hard throb of need. She fought the urge to lean in to him. To discover what it would feel like to have his hard angles pressing into her soft curves. It had been a long time since she’d even let herself think of something like that. Not since things blew up with Ryan. She didn’t trust herself to make the right choices, even with the right kind of man.

  And this was the absolute wrong man to light up her libido. He was too smooth. Too charming and certain of himself. It didn’t matter what he said or did, for every move he made was a strategic one. But that didn’t mean her every move couldn’t be a tactical one, as well. He already believed she could be manipulated through sex, or he never would’ve fired her. Let him think he was getting to her. Let him think he was winning.

  Tori pressed a gentle hand to his chest. Her lips parted in invitation; a ragged breath of arousal escaped from her lungs. It wasn’t hard to play along: she just gave in to her impulses. She could feel his heart racing just as quickly as her own. He was not immune to his own game. They were both playing with fire.

  “What makes you think I want you?” she whispered.

  Granting her silent wish, he leaned in and pressed himself against her. The warmth of his hard body radiated through his clothing. The salty scent of male skin mingled with pine. Wade let his lips graze, nestling touches light as feathers along her jaw to her earlobe. The sensitive hollow of her neck sizzled with a touch that tempted and teased without giving her what she really wanted: his mouth against her skin and his hands beneath her shirt.

  “Oh, you want me,” he whispered confidently into her ear. “Of that I’m certain.” Pulling away and taking all the night’s warmth with him, he met her gaze and smiled widely. “Good night, Miss Sullivan.”

  She watched him stroll confidently down the sidewalk and disappear around the corner. She waited until the night was silent and still before she let the air out of her lungs. That man had managed to build a fire in her she hadn’t expected, especially considering how much she despised him. This was a dangerous game, but if he was trying to seduce her into selling, it would at least be more pleasurable than fighting. Especially when he lost.

  A smile of amusement curled her lips. “Oh, you only think you won this round, Wade Mitchell. But the fun is just beginning.”

  Three

  By the time Wade returned to the farm that night, the lights in the big house were all out except for the front porch and the kitchen. His parents had always been early to bed, early to rise, as most farmers were. Thank goodness for the bunkhouse.

  The renovated barn referred to as “the bunkhouse” had been where all the boys slept and played as kids. The historic Federal-style house that came with the farm was large, but old in style and design, never renovated to have enough bedrooms and bathrooms to accommodate an ever-changing herd of boys and Julianne all at once. But none of the boys minded the separation.

  The bunkhouse had been the perfect boys’ retreat, and Julianne spent her fair share of time over there, as well. The entire downstairs was an open living area where they could do their homework, watch television, play video games and Ping-Pong, and roughhouse without breaking anything important. They even had their own mini-kitchen with a refrigerator, microwave and sink. As growing boys they were starving at all hours, and Molly didn’t want them running across the yard to the house in the cold and dark.

  Upstairs were two huge bedrooms and adjoining baths. The rooms had twin beds and a set of bunk beds to accommodate up to six foster boys at one time. In addition to Wade and his brothers, there had been other children who came but didn’t stay long because they went back to their parents or were adopted by relatives. They rarely had an empty bed back then.

  These days there were just the four of them, each having outgrown bunk beds.
Molly had redecorated after they all moved out, and each room now had two queen-size beds. Typically the kids all arrived back at the farm at the same time: Christmas Eve. The big house hadn’t gotten any larger in the past decade, so the boys found themselves back in the bunkhouse.

  Since he was the only one there, Wade could stay in the upstairs guest room of the big house. At least until Christmas when the others arrived. But somehow that felt wrong. Instead, he carried Molly’s requested groceries inside the big house, put them away and then locked the back door behind him. He grabbed the rest of his things from the hatch of his SUV and rolled his suitcase over to the bunkhouse.

  Anticipating his move, Molly had left the porch light on, and on the mini-kitchen counter was a slice of lemon pound cake wrapped in cellophane and a note welcoming him home.

  As he read the note he smiled and set the rest of his groceries beside it. He stashed a small case of water, cream cheese, Sumatran coffee beans and a six-pack of his favorite microbrewed dark ale in the fridge. He left the bagels and a bag of pretzels on the counter beside the cake.

  God, it was nice to be home.

  His loft apartment in Tribeca was nice—it should be, considering what he paid for it. But it didn’t feel like home. With its big glass windows and concrete floors, it was a little too modern in design to feel welcoming. It was chic and functional, which is what he thought he liked when he bought it. But it wasn’t until he set foot in this old barn with the battered table-tennis table and ancient two-hundred-pound television that he could truly relax.

  Things hadn’t changed much in the bunkhouse. The futon where he first made out with Anna Chissom was still in the corner. She’d been his first girlfriend, a shy, quiet redhead who kicked off a long string of auburn-haired women in his life. The latest, of course, was giving him the most grief. But he still wished he could pull Victoria down onto the futon and finish what they’d started outside that bar.

  He’d done it intending to get under her skin and punish her for dumping that drink on him. Then he found he liked touching her. Teasing her. He enjoyed the flush upon her creamy fair skin. The soft parting of her lips inviting him to kiss her. She responded to him, whether she wanted to or not, exposing her weakness. Now he just had to take advantage of it. There were worse negotiating tactics. Yet she wasn’t the only one suffering. He wanted to feel her mouth against his. And not just so she’d sell him her land.

  Wade flopped back onto the couch and eyed his watch. It was only nine-thirty. He didn’t normally go to bed until well after eleven, especially on the weekends. He was tempted to pull out his laptop and get some work done but was interrupted by the faint melody of his phone.

  It was Brody’s ringtone—the dramatic pipe-organ melody of the theme to The Phantom of the Opera. It was a long-running family joke, considering his computer-genius brother was pretty much living out the plotline as a scarred recluse. But when you had the kind of life that most of the Eden boys had lived, you developed a pretty thick skin and a dark sense of humor to make it through.

  “Hey, Brody,” Wade answered.

  “Wade.” His brother’s tone was cautious and, as always, serious.

  “No,” Wade said, cutting off the next question. “I went out to the property to talk to the owner, but there’s a…complication.”

  Brody sighed heavily. “I knew this wouldn’t be as easy as you seemed to think.”

  “I said a complication, not a complete failure, Debbie Downer. It’s just not going to be open-and-shut. The owner is reluctant to sell.”

  “Even at double the price?”

  “I offered her half a million and she turned me down flat.”

  Brody groaned on the line. “Why on earth would she turn that down? Half a million dollars is a lot to just push aside.”

  “Well, it’s partially my fault.” And technically, it was. He had the feeling Victoria Sullivan might’ve sold the land if any of his brothers had shown up at her doorstep. But not Wade. Oh, no. She was bound and determined to get back at him for firing her, even though it was her own doing.

  “What did you do?” Brody asked in the same sharp tone he’d always used as a child. Whenever one of the other boys lamented about being punished, those were always the first words out of his mouth. Brody was the one who never got into trouble, who never did anything wrong. He was too worried about being punished, thanks to his abusive father. Brody was always happiest sitting at his computer, whether he was playing games or helping Molly upgrade to the latest financial management software. He never got into trouble.

  “I didn’t do anything. She just doesn’t like me. She used to work for me years ago.”

  “Did you sleep with her?”

  Wade couldn’t help snorting into the phone at his brother’s assumption that this had to be a spurned lover. Compared to the lifestyle of his brother, he supposed he appeared to be a bit of a dog when it came to the ladies. “Then or now?” he teased.

  “Either.”

  “No, I’ve never slept with her.” Despite the fact that he would like to. Very much. He eyed the mostly dry spot on the crotch of his pants and smiled. She was a feisty one, for sure. He was certain they’d have a hell of a time in bed. But if she didn’t like him enough to conduct a business deal, she probably didn’t like him enough to take her clothes off for him.

  Well, at least not yet. He’d seen the passion blazing in her pale blue eyes as he’d pinned her against that wall tonight. She wanted him, all right. But she was too stubborn to give in to it.

  “I fired her. For cause, I might add. She still seems to be a little perturbed about that.”

  “I knew we should’ve sent Xander. No one can say no to him.”

  Their brother Xander was a Connecticut congressman. He was smooth, charming, likable and well-spoken. Everything a good politician needed to be. He would be perfect to handle the situation, if he were available. “Well, Xander is busy negotiating the country out of a huge deficit, so you’re stuck with me. I can make this happen. I assure you. It just isn’t going to get done in a day. She’s going to take some convincing.”

  “What can I do to help it along? Run a background check? See if I can dig up any information on her?”

  “That wouldn’t hurt, although I doubt you’ll come up with anything useful. At least, not anything blackmail worthy. I get the feeling her faux pas at my company was a fluke.”

  “Maybe there’s something in her history you can use to soften her up. It will make me feel like I’m doing something.”

  Wade could hear the aggravation in his brother’s voice. Brody wanted to help, but not much could be done from the supersecure corporate offices of his software empire in Boston. His brother was brilliant, had built a company that rivaled Google and Facebook, but Brody didn’t go out in public. The only time anyone saw him was when he came home for Christmas or Easter. The rest of the time it was just he and his secretary, Agnes, on the top floor of his Boston high-rise.

  It was a damn shame. If Brody’s biological father ever got parole, Wade would make him wish he’d stayed in jail. The kind of bastard who would dump battery acid on his young son’s face didn’t deserve to see the light of day. Especially not when his son didn’t get to see it, either.

  “For now, some good intel may be all I need to convince her. She doesn’t like me, but if I know what buttons to push, maybe I can change her mind. Look into her company for me and some of her recent projects. I’ll send you the basic info to get started. I know she’s passionate about her work. That might be all it takes. If I’m right, and this is the right property, once I secure it, there won’t be any more trouble. If she holds out, maybe you and I can go out in the dark over the holiday and start digging holes.”

  “Digging holes in the dark?”

  “You said you wanted to help,” Wade pointed out, only half joking. If the shovels came out, they had big, big problems.

  “Don’t let it get to that point, Wade. This isn’t a missing time capsule we’re loo
king for here. It’s a dead man’s body. One that we all share some responsibility for putting into the ground. It absolutely can’t be found. Do whatever it takes to fix this. It could ruin all our reputations—maybe even our companies. Who wants to do business with someone involved in the death of—”

  “Just stop,” Wade interrupted. He didn’t even want the words spoken aloud.

  “This could kill Dad with his heart condition. I don’t want another death on my conscience.”

  Neither did Wade. It would probably do all that and more. And if it didn’t kill Ken, Wade was certain he wouldn’t be able to bear the look of disappointment on his father’s face. He’d spent his whole life trying to be good enough. For his teenage birth mother, who had dumped him on an old relative. For the foster families that had passed him around like a hot potato. For the Edens, who had treated him like their son. He couldn’t, wouldn’t disappoint Ken and Molly.

  He’d already failed fifteen years ago to protect his brothers and sister as he should have. Wade wouldn’t make that same mistake twice.

  “I’ll handle it,” he promised. “One way or another.”

  * * *

  “Welcome to the Garden of Eden Tree Farm. I hope we can help you have a very merry Christmas!”

  The moment Tori crossed the threshold into the gift shop among the jingling of bells, Molly Eden greeted her from her post behind the counter. Tori had met the older woman once, at closing, but there had been paperwork to sign and not much time for chitchat.

  Today she was determined to change that. Wade thought he could sneak around town and get information on her. Well, two could play at that game. And what better source than his mother? He claimed his family was more important than anything, even money. Spending some quality time with them under the guise of Christmas shopping was the perfect way to do a little digging of her own.