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Bind

Page 22

by Sierra Cartwright


  “How the hell did you know I wasn’t in the middle of something pressing?” Connor demanded.

  “That’s not possible. I hadn’t called you yet.”

  “There are things in the world other than you that are important.”

  A moment of silence followed. “There are?”

  Having no other option, Connor sat back. “What gives?” Besides the fact Julien wanted to own a piece of technology developed by Donovan Worldwide. He insisted it would give his next generation phone an edge in the Holy Grail of electronics. Battery life.

  “You tell me. There’s only one reason you’re going to Caroline Street with one Ms. Lara Marie Bertrand this afternoon.”

  Christ. Even Connor didn’t know Lara’s middle name. And wait… “How the hell do you know…?” He trailed off as tension settled at the base of his skull. “The calendar program,” he guessed.

  “It’s something, isn’t it? We developed the initial app for a restaurant in New Mexico. Thompson agreed to beta test an upgrade for corporate use.”

  “And gave you direct access to my personal life.”

  “It’s for your own good. I was planning a trip to Houston, so I thought I’d see when it was best for you.”

  “Instead of calling and asking?”

  “And inconvenience both of us? What would be the point in that?” Julien countered. “But then I figured out you were getting married, so I wanted to talk about that. Hence the call.”

  “I never said I was getting married.”

  “You and Ms. Bertrand are going to the courthouse building today. There are a limited number of offices there.”

  “All civil,” Connor countered.

  “True. And I considered that, actually. But there’s a seventy-two hour cooling off period in your state. Which means a logical time for you to get married would be Thursday or Friday. And you blocked Friday afternoon out for personal reasons. And…tomorrow, after hours, you have a meeting with the BHI board of directors.”

  “You should have been a spy.”

  “I would make a good one, wouldn’t I?”

  “Still, assuming Lara and I are getting married is a big stretch.”

  “And Ms. Bertrand has been added as an administrator on your calendar. The only people who get that right are personal assistants and spouses.”

  He thought to ask if there was anything Julien didn’t know. But the answer was obvious.

  “I assume my invitation is in the mail,” Julien said.

  Connor sighed. Sitting back in his chair, he explained, “It’s a business matter.”

  “Ah.”

  “I looked her up. I wouldn’t poke my eye out if she crawled into bed next to me.”

  “One more crack and this conversation is over.”

  “You’re marrying a beautiful woman, Connor. And it’s a business matter? Then you are either blind or stupid. She’s Pernell’s only heir. And according to sources, she’s fucking brilliant with money.”

  “Sources?”

  “She was an intern at one of my companies.”

  No surprise there. Connor nodded.

  “She doesn’t consider herself an entrepreneur,” Julien continued.

  “That wouldn’t have come from a confidential HR file, would it?”

  “Perish the thought. I’d never be so crass.”

  Connor remained skeptical.

  “She can do amazing analytics and risk assessments, but developing new ideas isn’t something she has a desire to do. And, my friend, that’s your forte. So why is it simply a business arrangement? It looks like a match made in corporate heaven.”

  “You ever met a relationship you didn’t want to meddle in?”

  “What’s the sticking point? I mean, besides you being an asshole.”

  Nothing like old friends to give you medicine without sugar. “You know better than anyone that love is messy.”

  “It is. And that’s what makes it so…oozingly delicious.”

  Connor shook his head. “It’s not that easy.”

  “Be bold,” Julien said. “You’re not responsible for anyone else’s mess. It’s time you saw that. You’re a different person than your father. You wouldn’t make the same choices he did.”

  He recoiled. No one else but Julien Bonds would have the guts to say words like that. But he supposed it was easy to be a sage when you were examining someone else’s life and didn’t have to live with the consequences.

  “So I take it I’m not on the guest list after saying that. No, wait. I’m confused. I was never on it, anyway. I might as well say anything I want.”

  “There is no guest list.”

  “Pity. Every woman wants a wedding.”

  “This one would prefer there was nothing other than a legal certificate. Wants to live in her own house and pretend we’re not married.”

  “Can you blame her?”

  The tension sledgehammered the back of his neck. “I might add it was her idea to begin with.”

  “Judging by what we know of Pernell, I’m guessing your bride-to-be needed some support. So my guess is she offered you something in return, a seat on the board, the opportunity for you to acquire the communications division. A sacrificial lamb, as it were. Unless you’d bend a little and offer some love, I wouldn’t want to live with you, either.”

  “Thanks for that.”

  “Anyway, I’ll be in Houston sometime next week. I have a real estate investor who wants me to look at sites for a new retail store.”

  “Galleria area?”

  “Among them, yes.”

  He was intrigued.

  “I’d love to meet the new Mrs. Donovan while I’m there.”

  “I’ll keep you advised.”

  “No need. I’ll calendar it for you. Let me know what changes. I do love shopping for wedding gifts.”

  “Save your money.” He ended the call.

  Julien’s words haunted the rest of his morning and they were still on his mind when he and April arrived in front of Lara’s office building.

  She was standing inside the revolving door, and she pushed through it the moment he opened the car door.

  At the sight of her, something sparked inside him, a recognition, an attraction, a feeling of possession. Today she wore classic pumps, an above-the-knee skirt, white blouse and a blazer. Her purse hung from her shoulder.

  No matter what she put on, from that slinky thing on Saturday evening to one of his shirts last night, he responded to her.

  She’d covered her eyes with sunglasses.

  Her smile looked polite. He knew enough to realize it was strained.

  He kissed her cheek, but she didn’t respond.

  Instead, she accepted his hand into the car and told April how much she appreciated the ride.

  He slid in beside her, and she removed the sunglasses. It was then that he noticed the tension edged beside her mouth and eyes.

  Julien’s words plowed into him again. “Anything I can do for you?” he asked.

  “No.” She shook her head. “I just need to get through tomorrow.”

  “Trouble?”

  She updated him on the fact her father hadn’t shown up for work this morning so she hadn’t had the opportunity to discuss the report she’d compiled after her Friday meeting with BHI’s VP of Technology. “I can work on the financials,” she said, “begin some due diligence, but if my father won’t consider the proposal to sell the package of patents to Bonds—”

  “Patents for?”

  She closed her mouth. “I shouldn’t have said that much. I forgot that you know him. You and I haven’t signed anything yet. At the very least, we need a non-disclosure in place before I tell you anything else.”

  “Are they part of the communications deal?”

  “No.”

  Then it was technology. And if they had value to Julien, they could have value to Donovan. He admired her determination to protect BHI. As CFO, that was paramount. And yet, as the man she’d ridden yesterday afternoon
, the man who’d guided her through her first submissive steps, he wanted her to turn to him. He wanted to help her battle the dragons.

  “You received a copy of the invitation I sent to the board. I listed you as a special presenter. I left Dad a message about the whole thing, and I scheduled a four o’clock with him tomorrow.”

  “Any response?”

  “No.” She rubbed her arms.

  He could only imagine what was going on inside her head. He knew there was a part of her that felt as if she was doing something dishonorable. “No matter how he reacts, you’re doing the right thing.”

  “I know. Or at least I think I do.”

  “There’s no guarantee the board will agree with my communications proposal,” he reminded her.

  “True.”

  “But they have a right to hear it.”

  “Damn right. And we certainly do need your input.” She tipped her head back. “What if it’s all for nothing? What if we can’t convince them and the company keeps going the way it has?”

  “That could happen,” he agreed.

  She pulled away and turned so she could face him. “That’s reassuring.”

  “I’ve told you, Lara. I don’t lie to you. It is a possibility. A real one. But it’s the worst possible outcome. More likely we’ll end up with less than we want and more than we expected. But know this, we’ll do the best we can. We’ll send the strategy to your mother in the morning for her feedback. And we’ll consider what you’ll say to your father. If it’s not good enough, we’ll regroup. I’ll still have a place at the table for several years. Change is inevitable.”

  “You never give up.”

  “What’s that saying? With enough time and determination, you can piss a hole in a rock.”

  “Thank you for that.” She grinned and allowed her shoulders to rest against the seat.

  “Have you heard from your mother this morning?”

  “A couple of times. She mentioned that you sent over a copy of the communications division proposal. She’s got almost everyone lined up for tomorrow’s meeting. She has a couple of calls in to my dad, but he hasn’t spoken to her, either. And before you ask, no. I’m not surprised.”

  They arrived at the county building, and they rode to the third floor in silence. She held on to her purse and stared straight ahead.

  The tension that he’d thought had left her was back, judging by the set of her chin.

  There was another couple already with the clerk, so he and Lara took a seat. The pair had their hands linked, and they kept looking at each other. They were informing the clerk of their honeymoon plans. Then the soon-to-be groom leaned over and kissed his fiancée.

  Lara turned away and busied herself flipping through the pages of a popular personal finance magazine.

  The couple stood, and the man hugged his future bride.

  Lara didn’t look up.

  Finally, the clerk called out, “Next!” and waved them over.

  Connor held Lara’s chair, and they each dug out their driver’s licenses and answered the required battery of questions. He paid the fee.

  A few minutes later, the clerk gave them some final instructions for returning the signed document then wished them much happiness for the future.

  He scooped up the manila envelope containing the oversized document and followed Lara to the elevator.

  “It took longer to drive over here than it did to get the license,” she said.

  Far less time than he’d budgeted.

  In the car, he asked, “Do you have time for a coffee?”

  “Yes. I was actually hoping we’d have a chance to talk.”

  April whisked them to a local coffee shop.

  Surprising him, Lara ordered a large raspberry lemonade. “I need to be able to sleep tonight,” she said. “Last night was rough.”

  “You never have to do it alone,” he said.

  Because of the time of day, they were able to find a quiet table in a back corner.

  “I’ve decided you’re right,” she said. “Let’s get the agreement over to our lawyers. I’ll move in with you. I can rent out my place, put my things in storage. But the limit is two years.”

  “I was willing to consider moving into your house.”

  “I’ve changed my mind about that.”

  He noticed that she kept stirring the lemonade rather than drinking it. “Any particular reason?” he asked.

  “The soaker tub.”

  He looked at her. “And if you were more serious?”

  She sighed. “My place is better for families, for entertaining. Your loft suits our lifestyle better.”

  Connor nodded.

  “And if the rumors about your prowess are true…”

  He raised his eyebrows.

  “Which I’m inclined to believe they are…” She gave a small smile that erased the uneasiness that had been bubbling.

  “Go on.”

  “Then two years is plenty of time for you to set plans in motion for BHI’s future, help my father see we need some restructuring. I’m not suggesting it won’t be a lot of work. But I’ve already seen what you can do when you focus your energy.”

  “Well played,” he approved.

  “As for addendum A—”

  “The one outlining your role as my submissive.”

  A pretty shade of pink stained her cheeks, and she swirled her straw before looking up at him. “I’m willing to agree to all of that in exchange for the two-year concession.”

  “You drive a hard bargain.”

  “Which means we have an agreement,” she said.

  “I’ll send you a revised copy today. We can be married Friday afternoon.”

  Slowly, she nodded. “I wondered about that time you had blocked off on your calendar.”

  “For you.” Then he amended, “Us.”

  “You’ll handle the arrangements?”

  “If that’s what you want. If it’s important to you that you make the plans—”

  “It’s not.”

  He wondered how true that was. But her eyes gave nothing away. “I have a friend who’s a judge. We can go to his office. Or I’m sure he’ll be willing to meet at mine.”

  “Let’s go to his. Fewer people that we may have to explain to.”

  “As for witnesses?”

  For long minutes, she toyed with her straw. He wondered belatedly if she’d even taken a sip. “I don’t want to invite anyone.”

  Julien’s words about every woman wanting a wedding haunted him again. But then, he reminded himself, it didn’t mean she wouldn’t have a real one. Just not to him.

  That thought brought him up short. The idea of her with someone else, looking forward to the future with another man, pissed him off, though rationally he knew it shouldn’t. “I’d like you to move in sooner, rather than later.”

  “How soon?”

  “Tonight.”

  This time, she met his gaze fully.

  “We’ll need to touch base with your mother and ensure we have an agenda put together for the meeting. We have a script that we need to write, and we’ll want to practice it so it flows well. It would be nice to have your mother’s feedback on it.”

  “She’d love that.”

  “It will be easier to do if we’re together.”

  He saw the battle rage across her face. First came her frown of denial. It was followed by her rolling her head in a slow motion. Finally, she gave him a sharp nod. “Agreed.”

  What he didn’t tell her was that he’d be there to hold her, protect her, shore her up when doubt about her dad, about them, crept in. “You can pick me up after work, and we’ll go to your house to pack up a few things.”

  “With the way you’re dressed?”

  “I have a change of clothes in my office.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “We’ll get a crew for anything big, but the two of us should be able to manage the personal items that you’ll be needing.”

  She moved the dri
nk to the side. It was still full, and condensation dripped down the outside of the plastic cup. “Is fast the only speed you know?”

  “I’ve learned that we don’t always have as much time on the earth as we think we do. Tomorrow we have the board meeting. Wednesday we need to select rings. Pick me up at five?”

  “I should get back,” she told him, and her voice sounded strained.

  He nodded.

  After dropping her back in front of BHI, he returned to work. The first thing he did was call up their prenuptial agreement. He changed the term of the contract to two years and made the confidentiality agreement more expansive, noting the information could be shared as long as they were in accord. Before he sent it to her for perusal, he couldn’t help but scan addendum A.

  Already, she’d been incredible during their sex play, adventurous and eager. He couldn’t remember having been with anyone who was more perfect for him.

  The opportunity to have her in his bed every night vanquished the doubts that Julien’s words had raised.

  Satisfied, he sent it over to her then got back to work.

  A few minutes later, she sent him a fairly standard non-disclosure agreement. Smart woman. Within half an hour, she sent him back the prenuptial contract.

  Confused, he opened it and didn’t immediately see any changes. Instead of assuming there were none, he opened a program to compare the two documents. There was a change, to addendum B.

  Wife does not cook.

  He grinned.

  Instead of revising the contract, he sent her an email.

  Husband agrees.

  Within minutes, she informed him that their duly revised prenuptial had been forwarded to her personal attorney for further review and reminded him that the lawyer would no doubt advise that his addenda would never stand up in court.

  In that case, I’d like dinner on the table at 5:30 every night.

  Her reply was almost instant.

  What do attorneys know, anyway?

  He appreciated her attempts to make things easier between them. She didn’t have to, he knew. So her efforts were doubly appreciated.

  By the time she pulled up to the curb a few hours later, he was dressed in casual clothes and waiting for her. To her credit, she was two minutes early.

 

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