by Lisa Childs
“Is he hurt?” she asked as concern overwhelmed her. “Is he sick?”
“If I had to guess,” Stone began, “and I would have to because I’ve never felt that way myself, I would have to say that he’s heartbroken.”
“What?” They were not making any sense. “This is Simon you’re talking about? Simon Kramer?”
Ronan nodded as a grin curved up the corner of his mouth. “Yup.”
“You broke his heart when you left,” Trevor said.
Even as her own heart ached, she laughed. “That’s ridiculous. Did you guys come here just to make fun of me?”
“There’s nothing funny about it,” Ronan said. “He’s miserable. And we love him too much to let him continue like this.”
“Like what?” she asked.
She couldn’t imagine Simon Kramer being miserable. He thrived on adversity and had his entire life. There was nothing and nobody that would or could ever keep him down. Not his own father and not life on the streets.
“He’s not eating or sleeping,” Trevor said.
Stone added, “He looks like hell.”
She narrowed her eyes, skeptical again of their claims. It wasn’t possible for Simon Kramer to look like hell. “I doubt that.”
“It’s true,” Trevor agreed.
“And I can’t have him looking like that,” Stone said, “not when I have a jury trial coming up.”
She wasn’t certain why or how Simon looked would affect Stone’s case, but she didn’t ask that. Instead, she asked, “What makes you think his not eating or sleeping has anything to do with me?”
Ronan stepped closer to her and studied her face. “Are you eating or sleeping?”
The dark circles beneath her eyes and thinness of her face provided the evidence he was looking for. She didn’t have to answer his question.
But then he asked another. “Do you miss him as much as he’s missing you?”
She snorted. “I doubt he’s missing me.”
“Why do you doubt that?” Stone asked.
“Because Simon Kramer goes after what he wants,” she reminded them. “And if he wanted me, he’d be here instead of the three of you.”
“That’s what makes you different than everyone else,” Ronan said as if he’d come to a sudden realization of his own. “You know him. You know him probably as well as we do, and we grew up with him.”
Again she wasn’t following the lawyer. These guys were brilliant of course, like Simon, but she wasn’t stupid. “Yes, I know him, so I know if he was missing me, he’d be here—charming me back into his bed.”
Trevor laughed. “It’s almost eerie how well she knows him.”
“Yes,” Stone agreed. “That’s why she’s scared the hell out of him like no one else ever has.”
Ronan nodded. “And we came up against some scary guys on the street. But Simon never flinched until now—until you.”
“I don’t understand,” she admitted.
“When I met Simon, he’d been living on the streets for a while already,” Stone said. “He’s a little younger than us. Back then he was a lot smaller than us.”
“And a hell of a lot prettier,” Trevor added.
“Which put him in great danger living on the streets,” Stone said. “From other street kids and from adults looking to take sick advantage of runaways like him.”
She shuddered, thinking of what could have happened to the man she...
She what?
Before she could answer herself, Ronan was picking up the story. “But Simon wasn’t the least bit scared,” he said. “He owned those streets and could outsmart everyone else on them.”
“Including you,” Stone added the verbal jab.
“You, too,” Ronan said.
“And he, younger and smaller than us, took care of us,” Trevor said.
And she had her answer. She loved him.
“Now we’re trying to take care of him,” Stone said.
“But I don’t understand why he won’t come to me himself,” she said, “if he’s really missing me.” He obviously didn’t return her feelings.
“He’s scared,” Ronan said.
“First time I’ve ever seen him like this,” Stone said. “Maybe it’s because he cares more about you than he ever has anyone else. I don’t know what it is, but he’s scared.”
“I hate seeing him like this,” Ronan said and all his frustration was back in the gruffness of his voice. It was obviously killing him that he couldn’t help his friend. Was he really the monster Muriel thought he was? “And I think you’re the only one who can give us back the old Simon.”
That was why he was here. She doubted he was convinced that she’d had nothing to do with the information Muriel had received. But for his friend, he was willing to put aside his anger and animosity toward her.
She had always wondered how four alpha dogs worked together without killing each other. It was because they all loved and respected each other. And because Simon was the alpha in charge. His being scared seemed to be scaring them, as well.
But they had no idea what true fear was. She did; it filled her now. It filled her because she knew she loved Simon Kramer. And she wasn’t sure what the hell to do about her feelings or about him.
Chapter Seventeen
SIMON BLINKED AND tried to focus on his computer monitor. It was late. Or early. He didn’t even know. Since Bette’s two-week notice had ended, he’d been working around the clock—doing his work and hers. He’d finally brought in a temp, but it was easier to do most of the work than try to teach the new guy, especially when it was so hard for Simon to see anyone else at Bette’s desk.
That was why he’d begun doing most of his work before and after the office opened for business. Then he didn’t have to see the temp or anyone else for that matter because there was only one person he really wanted to see. But she hated him.
And he could hardly blame her. She undoubtedly felt used and betrayed. That was the part he’d hated most about being a con artist. It was why he’d run away from his father. And when he’d been forced to con people in order to survive on the streets, he’d made certain they never realized he’d conned them, so they wouldn’t feel that way.
The way Bette felt...
He wanted to make it up to her, but he didn’t know how. Anything he did would just come across as another con to her, as his trying to seduce her again.
Oh, how he wanted to seduce her. His body ached for hers, for the release only she could give him. He could have called any other old girlfriend. Hell, he could have taken up half the office staff on the blatant invitations they’d been issuing since Bette left. But he wanted no one but her. She was the one.
He rubbed his hands over his face. God, he was losing it. He didn’t believe in that bullshit soul mate stuff. Hell, he didn’t believe in love. But then he’d never felt the way he felt about Bette...
It was new. It was different. Hell, it was love.
He needed a drink. The guys had been trying to get him back to The Meet Market for weeks. Maybe he would call them up and see if they were available. He’d been spending too much time alone, and it was making him lonely, which was something he never was, even when he was alone. Before he could reach for the cell phone sitting on his desk, he heard the ding of the elevator doors opening onto the floor for Street Legal.
Someone was here.
Probably Stone. Or Trevor. Or all three of them. Ronan wouldn’t dare come see him alone, not unless one of the other two was available to pull Simon off him. He still wanted to pound the shit out of him for going after Bette, for accusing her of betraying the firm and most of all for telling her that Simon had just been conning her the entire time.
She must have been devastated if she cared about him at all. Did she care?
His heart began to pound fast at
the sound of heels tapping across the hardwood floor. The guys didn’t wear heels. Half the time they didn’t even wear dress shoes. Stone wore boots and Trevor and Ronan wore tennis shoes. It wasn’t one of his partners who’d gotten off the elevator. And it certainly wasn’t Miguel, who sounded like a train coming when he approached.
But just because whoever had arrived was probably female didn’t mean it was Bette. It was probably one of the employees who’d blatantly offered to take her spot in the office and out of it.
Or maybe it was someone else...
He remembered what he’d thought the last time he’d caught someone coming into the office after hours. That he’d caught the mole. He’d been wrong that time. But perhaps this time he would find out who was really betraying Street Legal.
Because while Ronan was wrong about Bette providing that material to Muriel Sanz, someone else from the office definitely might have. He needed to get focused on that again, on discovering who the mole might really be. And he needed to focus on his work. But she was all he could think about at the moment. She was all he could think about every moment of every day.
The tapping stopped right outside his door. But there was a long silence before the knob turned and the hinges creaked as the door opened.
He wasn’t armed. Even on the streets he’d never needed a weapon beyond his mind and his mouth. But now he was beginning to wonder if he should carry one. How desperate would the mole be if he or she got caught?
As desperate as Simon was to see Bette again?
Because he imagined she was the one standing in the open doorway. Even though the person’s face was in shadow, the silhouette looked like her curvy one. But if she was wearing a skirt and cardigan, it was covered by an overcoat with the belt bound tightly around her small waist.
His pulse quickened. And while he was more afraid than he’d ever been, he knew he didn’t need a weapon.
If this was Bette, he had no way of protecting himself from her. The visitor stepped forward into the light cast by the lamp on his desk. And his heart slammed against his ribs.
It was Bette. Her hair was piled on top of her head. But it wasn’t tightly bound. And she wasn’t wearing her glasses, either. Her long, thick lashes fluttered freely as she blinked and looked at him as if she couldn’t believe her eyes.
He ran his hand over his face again and felt the stubble. He’d forgotten to shave today. Maybe yesterday, too.
Damn, he probably looked like hell.
She continued to stare at him as if she barely recognized him. He couldn’t stop looking at her, either, but because she was so damn beautiful. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen...
“Where are they?” she asked.
He cocked his head. “Who? It’s after hours. Everybody’s gone for the night.”
“The flowers,” she said. “The past two years I sent flowers to every single one of your flings when you ended it with them. But I didn’t get any flowers.”
“I didn’t end it,” he reminded her. “I wouldn’t have ended it.”
Ever.
The thought shocked him, but it didn’t scare him now, like it had when he’d first acknowledged that he had real feelings for her and they weren’t going away even though she had.
“I still would have liked some flowers,” she said.
He gestured at the paperwork on his desk. “I don’t have any.”
She sighed. “Then I guess you’ll have to make it up to me another way.”
He sucked in a breath. “Any way you’d like.” In the chair, on the desk.
But he wasn’t pushing his luck, so he didn’t suggest any of those things. “What would you like?” he asked her.
“An opinion.”
He hadn’t expected that, so he arched a brow in question. She walked closer and ran a fingertip over his brow.
“I’ve missed that,” she murmured and her lips curved into a small, wistful smile.
“I’ve missed you,” he admitted, his voice deep and gruff with the emotion rushing over him. “I’ve missed you so damn much.”
Her smile widened, and her breath shuddered out as if she was relieved. And happy...
“So you’re glad that I’ve been miserable without you?” he asked. “That I’ve missed you so much that I haven’t been eating or sleeping?”
“Yes,” she answered.
“And the only reason you’ve come to see me tonight is for an opinion?” he asked, hoping to prod her into making the same admission he just had.
That she missed him, that she needed him.
But she just nodded and reached for the belt of her overcoat. She undid the belt, then shrugged off the jacket so that it dropped onto the floor around her feet. She wore one of her designs beneath the coat. It had to be hers because it was adorned with those damn beguiling bows.
It was a braless corset that was more satin ribbon than material. The ribbon zigzagged through a thin piece of blue silk which must have had enough starch to it to boost her breasts up so they were even higher and fuller than usual.
His breath escaped in a hiss while his cock hardened and pulsed. “Damn...” he murmured.
She twirled around, showing off the back, which was all ribbon and bows, as well. “You don’t like it?”
He stood up so quickly and abruptly that his chair toppled over. Then he reached for her, jerking her up against his body. “No,” he told her.
Her bottom lip, with that little crease in the middle of the fullness, poofed out in a pout. “You don’t? I was thinking about using this for the line...”
“I don’t like it,” he said. “I love it.”
But that wasn’t all he loved. With his hands on her bare, silky shoulders, he eased her away from him. Then he reached for one of the bows, his fingers trembling slightly as he tugged on it. The ribbon stayed in place. And he narrowed his eyes in frustration.
She laughed. “You didn’t think I was going to make it easy for you, did you?”
He shook his head. “Not you...”
She would always be a challenge to him. She would never bore him.
“You’re going to have to keep trying until you find the right bow,” she said, “before you’ll see me naked.”
“Will I see you naked?” he wondered. “Even if I get this thing off you? Will I see you really naked?” Because that was what he wanted. He wanted to know Bette in the way that she’d gotten to know him. Completely.
* * *
He was asking for more than her body. For more than sex...
And for the first time in her life, Bette was ready to give herself completely to someone else. She wasn’t worried anymore that she would wind up like her mom or sister. She knew she wasn’t like them. And Simon was definitely not her father or brother-in-law. He wouldn’t expect her to give up anything for him.
“I missed you,” she said, her breath escaping in a ragged sigh. “So damn much.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have told you about my suspicions.”
She smiled. “But what if I had been the mole? You would have tipped me off.”
“You’re not the mole. I figured that out pretty damn fast,” he admitted. “But I wanted to keep seeing you, keep being with you.”
“I wanted to keep seeing you,” she said. “Keep being with you. I even considered offering to stay on part-time as your assistant.”
He shook his head. “As much as I hated you leaving, I wouldn’t want you to stay. This isn’t the job for you. Being a fashion designer, that’s what you love.”
And he was whom she loved. More than she’d thought it possible to love anyone.
“Before I could offer,” she reminded him, “Ronan confronted me about Muriel.”
He lifted his hand from the satin ribbon to her face, his palm gently cupping her cheek. “You should be the m
odel,” he murmured. “These designs aren’t just made by you, they’re made for you.”
She shook her head. “You are the only one I want seeing me in them.” She drew in a deep breath, bracing herself, before admitting, “You’re the only one I want to see me naked.” She tugged on the right bow, the one that had the corset dropping away from her body. “Really naked.”
He tensed and stared at her face, his blue eyes wide with hope. “Bette.”
“I have really fallen in love with you.”
He laughed and wrapped his arms around her. “It’s about damn time!” he said. “I have loved you for so long!”
She snorted at his claim. “Not very damn long,” she said. “You ignored me for two years.”
He shook his head. “I tried to ignore you,” he said. “But I never should have hired you in the first place. You have no experience or education to work in a law firm.”
She eased back and studied his face. “That’s true. So why did you hire me?”
“Because I wanted to see you every day,” he said. “Even if I couldn’t touch you, I wanted to see you.”
“You can touch me now,” she said.
Now he stepped back and looked at more than her face. He looked at her body. And his breath hissed out between his clenched teeth.
“You are so damn beautiful.”
She didn’t argue with him or doubt him. She knew it was true. And she felt beautiful. “Thank you.”
He grinned. “Thank you.”
“I haven’t done anything yet.” But she reached for the zipper of his pants.
He caught her hand in his and held it still in his gentle grasp. “You came here,” he said. “I was afraid to come to you.”
“If your friends hadn’t told me that, I probably wouldn’t have found the courage to come,” she admitted.
“My friends? The guys came to you?”
She nodded.
“Assholes,” he murmured. But he was grinning as he said it. “Now I’m going to have to thank them, too.”
“Hopefully, not like you’re going to thank me,” she said.
He laughed as he reached for her. Swinging her up in his arms, he carried her to the couch. After he laid her on the supple leather, he stood up. And again he just stared at her, his blue eyes dark with passion and something else.
