by Sun Chara
“Not your usual M.O,” she mocked. Any way she looked at it, she’d been played. By Cade, his uncle and her father. “I became your collateral, in case things collapsed.”
“It was a protective device, okay.”
“For whom?” she sniped back.
“I told you,” he bit back. “You.”
“How chivalrous.” Sarcasm dripped from her words. “A defunct company is useless.”
“Okay, and me,” he barked. “At the time I hadn’t realized uncle… er…dad, was on my side.” He paced the floor outside her dressing room.
“When I first began work at Sloan Global—”
“You tagged Century—”
“Yeah.” He scrubbed a hand across his face.
“Your uncle—” she prompted, wanting to wrap her arms around him, comfort him.
“Hedged me from the company, taking the brunt of the scandal, and I almost annihilated him.” His words ripped from him in a harsh sound. “At the Limassol Wine Fest I refused his help and almost sabotaged the sting.”
“A little hard-headed are you, Cade?” she mouthed the rhetorical question more to herself than to him.
“Is that what you call it?” he shot back, sounding ticked off that she even voiced it.
She grinned. Served him right. “Anything else I should know?”
He chuckled at the double entendre of her words. “To disrupt the hacker’s op, the IT—”
“My father.”
“And my uncle tapped funds from Century…a trickle at a time, into your secured account.”
“And I had no idea,” she said with glee, peering at him through the
crack in the curtain. “I am a major shareholder of Century Corp.”
“Pocket change,” he said, his mouth lifting at the corner. “Enough for a couple of pairs of those designer shoes you’re crazy about.”
“You noticed?”
“It’s my job to notice things.”
Her heart sank. There he went, lumping her with his other work
obligations. “How good of you.” Acid dabbed her words.
“Isn’t it?” His comeback dipped in sarcasm. “Anyway, to wrap this up—”
“Yes, let’s be done with it.”
His eyes narrowed, a deafening pause and, “We got him.”
She took another peek at him between the drapes, and her pulse
faltered. Towering above the mannequins, he stood with legs astride, hooked a thumb at the fastening of his jeans, and propped the hardhat on his hip. His half open shirt revealed the sprinkle of hair on his chest, and she longed to touch him.
The man oozed sexual charisma.
A lock of hair flopped over his brow, and she wanted to step out and smooth it away. Of course, she didn’t move an inch. She had to combat his
magnetic pull with a cool retort. “You had no inkling of your uncle’s and my father’s reversed Electronic Transfer Fund conspiracy?”
“Not ’til it was almost a fait accompli.” He shoved his rolled up
sleeves higher on his arms, the muscles of his forearms flexing. “It took some fancy footwork to keep the company afloat.”
She pressed a hand to her mouth, muting a giggle bubbling inside her. Somehow she couldn’t see Cade doing a jig to anyone’s fiddle. “You expect me to believe that?”
“Yeah,” he struck back.
“Why?”
“Because it’s the truth.”
“Huh.” She slipped her feet into stiletto-heeled slippers and drew the curtain aside.
“Nina…” He drew in a sharp breath and gulped a grunt of sound.
Okay, she thought, pleased. His reaction at least soothed her pride, but not a moment later, he dashed it.
“An ingenious cyber sting,” he said, nudging his chin with his
fist. “The hacker snared at his own ETF game.”
“A real soap opera,” Nina said, tongue-in-cheek.
“My uncle had gotten the company and the girl—”
“Your mom,” Nina murmured, brushing the fur trim of the negligee.
A curt nod from Cade. “As runner up, ‘Daddy’ Sloan felt thwarted and set out to cause damage where he could.”
“And your uncle had no idea his half-bro forced your mother into marriage, then punished her by taking you away from her?”
“Pigheadedness runs in the family,” Cade muttered, but his mouth
curved in a reluctant grin. “Once clued in, uncle stepped up his visits to
London until he got her away from him.” Cade’s features turned fierce. “But it was no cake walk. ‘Daddy’ Sloan had an ace up his sleeve.”
Nina walked toward him, the swish of silk against her thighs a seductive sound. About to touch his arm, she stayed the motion and opened her eyes wide. Realization smacked her brain. “Oh my gosh, his ace was you…his next target.”
Cade inclined his head in assent. “Bitterness led to booze and gambling, until his addiction took precedence over his vendetta.” He rapped his hardhat with his knuckles. “His fix—an ongoing stream of cash.”
“Sloan…Century…you,” Nina murmured. “Became his supply.”
He chuckled, a mirthless sound. “Quite astute, my dear.”
Nina winced, the endearment having caught her off guard. To avoid analyzing it to smithereens and to cover the awkward moment, she slipped the scarlet satin chemise off the hanger.
“He banked on knowing that nobody would suspect a Sloan stealing from a Sloan,” Cade added, a savage twist to his mouth. “It worked until the head of the tech department—”
“My father—”
“Caught him.”
Nina tottered, grabbing onto the rack for support, her hand flying to her mouth, suddenly everything clear. “He was the one…he retaliated… spewed lies to my mom—threatened—” Her fingers fisted over the satin. “Silenced my father and shipped him off to Cyprus.”
“Yeah,” he muttered, the tense corners of his mouth easing a bit.
“What now?” she asked.
“All’s well that—”
“Ends well.”
“Shakespeare.” They said in unison. But could that sage advice reflect on them?
Nina doubted it. Sounded more like a Romeo and Juliet curtain call.
“If your uncle had told you, none of this would’ve happened and you and I—” she broke off, swallowing the rest of her words.
“Would never have gotten hitched?” he clipped out, rolling his shoulders. “But we did.”
She remained silent, stroking the satin with her fingertips, waiting… not sure of what. Maybe a signal from him that— she lifted her lashes and collided with his blade-thin focus.
“Now that I’ve reconciled my past,” he said, “it’s time I took care of my future.”
She held her breath and her heart tripped. Obviously, he considered her in his past, otherwise, why was he buying gifts for another woman?
“I’ll collect on what I paid for.”
“Of course.” She had no illusions. With every cell in her body splintering, she hurled the words at him. “After the show, I’ll sign.”
“Sign what?”
“The divorce documents.”
A laser couldn’t have sliced through the tension between them, but the police siren outside did.
“Let’s have a little fun first, shall we?”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Nina shot him a look that could’ve frazzled toast to a crisp, but it didn’t deter him, not one iota. And that had her hackles rising even more.
“Since it’s costing me mega bucks—” he brushed his upper lip with his knuckle— “let’s see that little number you’re wearing in action.”
Nina smashed down a groan pummeling her chest. He hadn’t even given a hoot when she spoke of divorce; his cool indifference, a hailstorm assaulting her body. He wanted fun, did he? Well, she’d wallop him with it, but not at her expense. So, she did the only thing a savvy businesswoman would do.
&n
bsp; “The modeling job will be an additional five hundred euros.” Her frosty words snapped off her tongue, camouflaging her frayed emotions. “If you want the red on show” –she pointed to the satin with a more modest cut on the counter— “we have a special, two for nine hundred and ninety.”
He curled his lip, and then chuckled. “The one you’re wearing will do.”
“Hot ‘n sexy enough for you?” She flashed him a withering look beneath her lashes, but it didn’t faze him.
He stroked the earring in his earlobe, his laser-sharp gaze drilling into her. “Depends who’s wearing it.”
His callous words pumped her indignation. How uncouth of him. Her temperature simmered and then flamed, melting the ice shackles around her heart. “In that case use your imagination.”
“Don’t have to.”
She shrugged. “Please yourself.”
“Oh, I intend to.”
She did a double take, but his features remained unreadable, except for the tilt at the corner of his mouth, a cross between a smirk and a grin. “Well, then, make yourself comfortable, sir—”
Sir? Cade grumbled to himself. First she stole him blind with those padded prices, and now she shredded his ego, treating him like any jock off the street. That did not sit well with the Sloan pride. Seemed the lady might have her own agenda. Question was, where’d he fit on her list of priorities?
“—in the parlor.” She waved him to an archway adjacent to the dressing room, her words silky soft.
Seductive.
A promise of things to come?
“Yeah, thanks.” He rubbed a hand across his unshaven jaw and watched her walk away, hips swaying.
“I’ll be with you in a moment,” she said, her words whisper soft. A nerve bashed his cheek, and deleting it with his fist, he stomped to the boudoir and skidded to a halt. If he felt like a bull in the china shop earlier, he was now the fish out of water, surrounded by French provincial decor. Plush sofas curved around the mirrored walls, gold tussles dangling from the armrests and pink velvet cushions were strewn everywhere.
He glanced at the ceiling, caught his reflection tagged with building site marks, and grimaced. He should’ve changed, but he even nixed the closing of a multi-million dollar deal to catch her before she left.
A heave of a breath, and he strode across the thick carpet, plopping on the couch, the cushions dipping beneath his weight. He set his hardhat on the floor, and winced at the imprints his work boots left on the carpet. Another five hundred cleaning fee on his tab for sure.
The lights dimmed, the mirrorball began to spin and a seductive melody serenaded the room. He bolted to attention.
Show time.
Nina strutted in, veiled behind an ostrich-feather fan, her steps keeping tempo with the music, her body undulating. Flecks of light netted her hair, her skin, and glinted off the mirrors. A frown, and Cade frisked her with his gaze, catching sight of a trim ankle and her hot-pink polished toes peeking from fur-tipped slippers. That landed him a kick in the groin, and he groaned, nearly doubling over.
She must’ve heard, but except for a subtle misstep, she continued to twirl to the rhythm, the feathers following her every move. A flick of her wrist at the right beat and the fan wavered, allowing him a glimpse of a shapely thigh.
Luring him in.
He edged forward, caught himself, and reclined, stretching his arms across the back of the sofa, seemingly unaffected. Propping one leg across his knee, he paced her with his eyes, her reflection rippling in the mirrors.
Her hair, a shimmer of gold, fell down her back. The white silk a whisper across her hips…a flash of erotic shadow beneath.
A battering ram smashed him in the center of his chest, but by the time he inflated his lungs, the fan swung. He shifted his sights. The tie criss-crossing her cleavage loosened and the silk sagged, revealing the swell of her breasts. A smoldering began inside him; he spanned his hands across the velvet, itching to fondle, eager to taste, tease, nibble, suckle…her.
Easy man. The show’s just getting started.
The smoldering torched his passion.
An inferno of sensation.
His shirt stuck to his shoulder blades. He swiveled a finger around his collar. How many other men had seen her…been turned on by the rhythmic movements of her body draped in that sexy scrap of niente. That did not sit well with Cade. No way.
Before he could regroup, she bounced up to him, tapped his chin with the tip of the fan, then drew it down his chest to his belt buckle. A hot beat…and she spun around, the silk flared around her hips, leaving nothing to the imagination.
Veins in his neck thickened and his pulse raced like a locomotive about to derail. How wrong could a guy be about the woman he loved? His sex kitten was a vamp.
He was about ready to blow a fuse.
A crescendo of sound, and she closed the fan. Flinging it behind
her, she took a pose—hands crossed on slightly bended knees, a sexy pout on her mouth. Her scent drifted to him, subtle…sensual…womanly. Her nipples puckered beneath the silk, her breath a whisper of sound.
Sweat broke out across his forehead, and he clamped his hands behind his neck, his biceps bulging. She’d filled his hands and his mouth so perfectly. Blood rushed to his brain, then shot down, fueling his solid strength.
Cade crunched nails between his teeth.
The tune changed tempo, and she flashed him a smile. Stretching her arms above her head, she bopped a step back, her bosom bouncing and her hair flowing.
He tightened his abs and tasted metal on his tongue.
A note fused with sensual assault filled the air, and she turned, tossing him a sultry look over her shoulder; her sales pitch a purr of sound. “This fur trimmed shimmer of silk” –a bat of an eyelash, an inviting tone— “fire and ice…every woman’s dream.” She twirled, the material a hush against her hips, the shadow between—a forbidden promise. “And every man’s fantasy—”
“Nightmare.” Cade erupted from the couch, startling her and surprising himself.
“What’s the matter?” She reached out, and stroked his jaw with her fingertips. “Can’t take the heat?”
A muscle bashed his temple. “This fantasy is over, sweetheart.” An inferno stoked inside him, his pulse clubbing his ribs.
“You don’t like it?” She trailed the furry hem down his forearm, her gaze a mystery.
Cade liked it just fine. Too much. He wanted to do the caveman thing, but he had too much riding on this to tempt fate again and have it backfire. His gut wrenched. This five foot two dynamo had him for breakfast, lunch and dinner a year ago. Then on their wedding night, she had disappeared without a trace, leaving him to rebuild brick by brick, heartbeat by— well, it was time he leveled the playing field.
His eyes shuttered, camouflaging the firestorm inside him, his voice a thread of sound. “Before how many men have you paraded that sexy little number?”
“I run a reputable business.”
“Sure thing, babe.” He hooked his thumb at the snap of his jeans, his
words laced with sarcasm.
“Oh!” Her eyes glittered with fury, and she wrapped the silk closer about her body, but that only hiked the fabric further up her hip. “You have no idea—”
“I’m willing to learn, sweetheart.” He leaned into her and grazed the curve of her cheek with his knuckles.
She knocked his hand away and stepped back, her breath whooshing from her mouth.
Two paces more brought him within an inch of her, and he grinned in big bad wolf mode. “Maybe we should pursue this…uh…fantasy, after all?”
A heart-stopping moment, and Nina glimpsed iron-like flecks in his eyes. She caught her lip between her teeth, thinking she may have gone too far in provoking him. “What do you mean?”
“What happens next, doll?”
“Well, I…uh…that depends on…” She flicked a strand of hair off her shoulder, and swallowed her nervousness. Could she carry out the ruse? An
d remain unscathed?
“Yes?” He lowered his head, his lips a feather breadth from hers, his breath a warm caress upon her cheek.
The melody tempted, and he pulled her into a waltz. The rough fabric of his shirt stimulated her breasts, his thighs flirted with hers and his arousal courted her. They circled once around the floor, and he stopped, sliding the silk straps off her shoulders. He dipped his head and licked the hollow of her collarbone.
A hum in her throat, and she tilted her head back, allowing him further access. His hands glided down her arms, thumbs caressing inner flesh until he caught her fingertips. He brought them to his lips, then placed them on his shoulders, and spanned her waist with his hands. A crescendo of sound, and he toured upward, untying the ribbon at the décolleté of her negligee until her breasts filled his palms.
She held her breath.
A rumble came from deep inside him.
She exhaled, arching into him, her hands sliding through his hair. He lowered his head, pulled a nipple into his mouth and sent a myriad of sensation throughout her body. Her moan of pleasure mingled with his groan of need, and she embarked on a quest of discovery across his body. While he nibbled upward, feasting on her every curve, every pulse point, her fingers stumbled onto his surging strength. He heaved in a gallon of air, his head buried in the crook of her neck, and exhaled a gale.
The clock in the shop chimed the sixth hour, seeming to echo a warning, and startled, she let him go. A tremor zinged through her.
“I can’t do this, Ca-ade.” She shook her head, sucked a mouthful of air, and let it fizz between her teeth. “I-I really can’t do this.”
“You seemed to be doing fine, a minute ago,” he panted into her neck.
“Aren’t you forgetting y-your special lady?”
“She knows all about it,” he muttered, his words muffled by her hair.
“Wha-at?”
“She’ll understand, Nina.”
“No woman in her right mind would—”
He chuckled into her nape. “If she’s your mo—”
She shoved him back, but he barely budged, only a couple of inches separating them. “You’re wacko,” she snapped, hiding her quivery fingers behind her back. “Working in the Italian sun must have blistered your brain.”
