by Bishop, Ally
We must’ve roused Lux, who’s been passed out in the living room. “Do I smell coffee?”
“Only if you get off your ass and come out here, you lazy wench!” I call to her, watching with amusement as my brother holds his head.
“Jesus, could we skip the yelling part of the morning?”
“What on earth did you two get into last night?” They didn’t come home until well after four, so my secret tryst is safe. Who knew I’d turn into such a hypocrite?
Noah points to Lux, who’s now joined us, her usually elegant black curls in disarray around her pale face. Her makeup is smudged, but she still looks like a dark fairy ready to steal a man’s soul with her kiss.
“Don’t blame me. You were the one who wanted to chase down scotch with tequila shots.” She looks at me, shaking her head. “Where did you teach this boy to drink? I swear he doesn’t know when to slow down.”
“You’re asking me? You two were the ones setting the city ablaze in college. I stayed home and studied. I believe you referred to me as ‘Ella Egghead’ in those days.”
“With love, Ells,” Lux insists, pouring herself a mug of joe. “You were the one with the better grades, too.”
“Big shock there.” But there’s no sting in my words. Lux and Noah became friends in our freshman year, in large part because they had similar classes and a penchant for underage drinking. Given that I took a major with a focus in PR and marketing, rather than just a business degree, I was often working on different projects. Not that it would’ve mattered. Noah met his soulmate in crime when he met Lux. When we were younger, they were the crazy duo, out all night and sleeping most of the day whenever they could get away with it. If it hadn’t been for Elementary—and my lack of a social life—I’m not sure what Noah would’ve ended up doing. And Lux…well, she always knew her calling, even though she spent a few lost years in bank management.
Despite all of their antics, Lux and I have managed to become quite close. She’s a real person, despite her Dominatrix persona (she makes her clients call her Mistress Hathaway), and I don’t know what we’d do without her friendship.
“So any scores last night? Perhaps some wild and kinky sexploitations to relay?” My stomach leaps at my teasing, as though guilting me for not sharing my own sexy details.
“A big fat nada,” Noah says glumly. “I must be off my game.”
Lux snorts as she tucks herself in at the table. “I daresay you were drunk off your ass. Probably scared all the pretty young things away.”
“Where’s Evan?” I ask Lux.
She sips her black coffee, then offers a small smile. “He knew when to call it quits. Plus, the band had an early interview and some publicity stuff to do, so he went home around one this morning.” Evan manages bands and has an up-and-coming alternative band that takes up most of his time.
“How’d it go with the new client?” Noah’s bloodshot eyes meet mine.
I’ve never been a good liar. Even when we were kids, Noah always knew when I was fibbing. If I have any hope of not spilling the beans about last night—and being mercilessly teased about it—I have to stick as close to the truth as possible.
“Good. Really good.” I fight to keep my face neutral. “Great house—we’ll have more room than we know what to do with.”
“Upper East Side place? I would expect so. Any ideas on who else is going to be there? Anyone famous?”
“Famous? I don’t…”
Noah rolls his eyes. “Ian Crane? The guy’s one of the most well-connected attorneys in town. You didn’t recognize his name?”
“I’ve never heard of him.” My head starts to pound, the pressure tightening around my eyes. “Why didn’t you say something?” I feel like I’m falling over the edge into an abyss. What did I get myself into?
“That’s why I thought you were excited when he contacted us. I just assumed you knew. He dated that supermodel, Mia Tratori, along with a few others.”
Lux slaps the table, earning a grimace from Noah. “Wait—that Ian Crane? The guy that was just on the news about that corporate espionage case?”
That sinking feeling? Oh yes, that’s me, disappearing into the bowels of the earth.
“He’s gorgeous, too, if I remember correctly.” Lux eyes me with interest. “If you managed to keep your cool about you last night, I’m impressed. He’s one of the city’s most eligible bachelors, right up there with mega-star Mick Jeffries.”
Lux disappears into the other room, returning with my laptop in her hands. A few moments later, I’m staring at Ian’s stunning smile on one of those “top ten” lists. Sure enough, he and Mick Jeffries are side-by-side. Mick, his salt-and-pepper hair long and curling around his roguish face, is impossible to forget. He’s been in a string of action movies that have all been blockbusters.
“Ha! Check this out.” Lux moves the cursor over a sentence. “’Look out, ladies. Not only are these gorgeous hunks available, they’re also best friends, so who knows? Two for the price of one? Sounds like a night made in heaven to me!’”
Noah turns thoughtful. “Damn. I knew I’d seen him on the same page with Jeffries before, but I had no idea they were so close.” He turns to me, a faint light in his bloodshot eyes. “Maybe Mick Jeffries will show up at his party, Sis.”
I swallow hard, barely hearing their words. I can’t stop staring at the image of Ian. “Huh. Well, that just goes to prove I work too much. Never heard of him before.” A cold sweat starts in my hands and quickly spreads to the rest of my body. “Speaking of which, I just remembered that I forgot to call Misha. I need to make sure she’s got the dessert on the menu, and Ian mentioned that one of his guests is gluten intolerant, so I need to see if she can handle that.” I stand, heading to my desk.
“Won’t you need your computer?” Lux asks, peeking out of the kitchen.
“Yes. Yes I will.” I’m so shaken, I can barely think straight.
She places it on my desk. “Hey, you okay? You look really pale.”
“I’m fine. A little light-headed. I ate some leftover Chinese last night that might have been in the fridge too long.”
She’s not buying it, but Lux isn’t one to push. “If you need any help, just holler.”
Help? I’m way beyond that.
“Hey, sis,” Noah calls from the door. “You got a delivery.”
I’m still reworking a final total for a party request we just got on the internet, so any break from that is welcome. But when I meet Noah in the hall, I can’t even see his face over the wildflowers in every color you can imagine. The blooms are artfully displayed in an elegant glass vase.
“Who’s it from?” Noah inquires as I take the bouquet from him.
“Oh, who knows?” I turn my back so he can’t see my flushed cheeks, and I take them back to my desk. I don’t see a card, but I finally find it after maneuvering some of the flowers around. I snag the card and stuff it in my jeans, then return to the numbers I was crunching.
“You seriously don’t know who sent you one of the most gorgeous flower displays I’ve ever seen?” Noah leans against his desk, his deep blue eyes seeing right through me.
I heave a sigh, hoping for once my dramatic skills will work. “It’s from Ian Crane. He’s thrilled with the plans for his party, and he probably wants to show his appreciation.”
Noah narrows his eyes, his head cocked. “Really? So he sends a ridiculously expensive gift designed for a woman?”
My gaze is glued to my computer screen, as though these numbers are absorbing. “Who knows what he was thinking? Weren’t you and Lux just telling me earlier what a ladies’ man he is? Probably thinks I’ll give him a discount if he’s charming.”
When Noah doesn’t respond, I don’t dare look up. Noah’s many things, but he’s never quiet when he suspects something is amiss. I hear him move around the room, go to the kitchen, then return.
“So your meeting with Crane last night…you said he likes our plans and everything?”
�
��Mm-hmm,” I intone while trying to remember what I was adding together. Was it the cost of the dessert selection or the live band?
“What time did you leave his place?”
I swallow hard before turning to face him, forcing my guilt into an accusation. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
He gives me his knowing stare, the one he pulls with women all the time. He may be my brother, but even I have to admit, he’s got all the right parts in all the right places. So when he turns on the wicked charm that gets him just about anything he wants in life, it’s impressive. “It means, sister darling, what time did you leave Crane’s house? I tried to call you last night, as we ran into Mark and Jamie.” Mark and Jamie were our housemates our junior year of college. “I thought you might like to come join us for a drink, but you didn’t answer. And I know you weren’t in bed. At least, not in your bed.”
Of course, he’s my brother, so I’m immune to his “tell me the truth” stare. Mostly. “I had my ringer turned off because I. Met. With. A. Client.” I punctuate each word as though he might miss the point. “I haven’t even checked my phone yet this morning. Believe me when I say Ian Crane clearly snags women because of his looks, because his personality is bland and uninteresting.” I bury my nose in my coffee mug so he can’t see the lie in my eyes. After a sip, I continue. “When I left Ian Crane’s, I was exhausted, so I came home and went to sleep. Given what time you got in this morning, which I know because you woke me up with your drunken stumbling, I don’t want to hear it.”
A small, shit-eating grin plays over his lips. “My sister is keeping secrets. I’d bet on it. And while I know an asshat like Ian Crane would never grab your attention, I think someone did. And you aren’t telling me about him for some reason. What might it be?”
Because I don’t want this topic to continue, I don’t ask him what makes Ian Crane an asshat, but I can’t help wondering when Noah finally lets up and sits behind his desk. After a few minutes, he turns back to me. “You’re keeping something from me, Ells. I know it. And I’m going to figure it out. But I sort of like this, though.”
Now it’s my turn to give him the stare designed to illicit confessions. “Why’s that? And you know I tell you everything.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire…
He sighs, then rolls his chair over to mine, taking my always-cold hands in his intensely warm ones. “Because you haven’t had any fun in a long time, Ells. I tease and give you a hard time about not going out, but don’t think I’ve forgotten why. And I know shit like that takes time to get over. But it’s been years, and it’s time. So if you’re keeping some hot guy a secret from me because…well, I don’t know why. Maybe you just want to have him to yourself for a while longer—I don’t care. I just want you to be happy.”
Damn him for being my awesome brother. My eyes mist up a bit, and I kiss his knuckles because he always knows what to say. “Thank you. And I promise, if I’m hiding anything, it’s only because I need to figure things out in my head before I share them with you. Not because I don’t trust you.”
“I know that. You don’t have to say it.” He releases my hands and glides over to his desk, but then he looks back. “But I’m going to figure it out. Just because it’s what we do—we figure out the culprit.” He lets out a maniacal laugh, proving he’s forever the actor in the family.
I shake my head and get back to work.
CHAPTER 5
KEEPING SECRETS
My brother would never be caught dead in the house on a Friday night. So when we don’t have a party scheduled on a Friday evening, he’s hitting the bars. What drives him to be such a social butterfly and somewhat conscientious womanizer? I’ve got my suspicions, but I swear I got the introversion trait, and he the extroversion. It’s never too late, too loud, or too crowded, and he thrives on the energy. As for the women…the only thing I can figure is that something broke in him when we were kids. Whether it was our grandparents, who were distant and strict, or the teasing we took as kids because he was into theater and I was a brainiac, I don’t know. He’s been that way for a long time. He’s always straightforward and honest with women, as far as I can tell. And he’s never been tied down by one for long.
I, on the other hand, have a new romantic thriller waiting for me by the couch, and once Noah heads out, this time sans Lux as she’s got a client tonight, I head to my room to change into my pajamas. When my pants crinkle as I shuck them off, I’m reminded of Ian’s flowers. I never got a chance to read the note. Between attending the marketing luncheon, two meet-and-greets, and Noah being around the whole day, it slipped my mind.
I dig out the envelope, flattening it against my thigh before ripping it open.
Dear Ella,
Last night was incredible. I’m sure my birthday will be as well, as your plans for my party look divine. I’d love for tonight to be just as memorable. I’ll be waiting to hear from you.
Ian
I can hear my heartbeat in my ears. Dear God, the man is yummy. And charming. What if he does this with all the women he sleeps with? The man was with Mia Tratori, for Christ’s sake. She was on the cover of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition last year—I only know that because of Noah’s insistence on buying that issue. Not to mention, how many other hot, famous women was he with? Why on earth would he be interested in me?
Not to mention, Noah thinks he’s such a jerk. Of course, he’s basing his opinion solely on the media’s depiction of Ian and his connection to Mick Jeffries.
Last night, though…I can feel my nerves trembling with excitement at the thought.
Bad idea. Totally bad idea. He’s a client. I really shouldn’t…
I already have his number, but he left it on the bottom of his note, so I dial it with shaking fingers.
“Ella?”
“Hi. Sorry. I just got your note. I mean, I got the flowers earlier, but I didn’t see…the note.” God, I sound like an idiot.
“It’s fine. I thought…well, I worried I might have scared you off.” His voice, deep and silky, sounds relieved.
I fight a smile. “Thanks for the flowers. They’re beautiful.”
He waits a moment, then says, “Can I see you? Just for coffee, if you want. Or dinner.”
He sounds almost as nervous as I feel. “I—” What had I expected? Of course he’s going to assume that I want to meet him. You called him, you dolt! “I can meet you…I just have to get dressed.”
“I can come to you, if you’d like. I don’t mind.”
Stomach officially residing in toes. “You don’t have to come all the way out here.”
He doesn’t respond right away. Then he says, “Well, technically, I’m already here. I’ve been with a client for the last two hours, and his place isn’t far from yours.” His embarrassment seeps across the line. “I might have been hanging out at a bar down the street, hoping you would call.”
My heart embraces turbo power and thumps wildly. “Oh. Well. You know my address.”
“I do.”
He’s at the door within minutes, ensuring I barely have enough time to brush my teeth. So electric blue, fuzzy sleep pants and long sleeve, bunny-covered fleece it is. Do I know how to do sexy, or what?
Ian, on the other hand, is divine. He’s in a suit, black with a faint pinstripe. He’s removed his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, so a hint of his collarbones peeks out. I’d forgotten how tall he is, and when he steps inside, I feel very small beside him.
“Hi,” I say softly.
He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he reaches for me, his mouth crushing mine as he lifts me nearly off my feet. His hands slip beneath my pajamas, one caressing the bare expanse of my back, while the other slides lower to grip the curve of my ass. His tongue finds mine, and I grip his hair, holding him so I can return his fervor.
“I’m assuming you have a couch or a bed,” he whispers as he trails a path down my neck, his hand pulling aside the collar of my fleece so he has access to my shoulder.
“Both,” I whisper, eyes closing and head falling back, as he blazes heat across my skin.
“I vote for whatever’s closest.” His mouth tickles the top of my breast.
We manage to make it to the couch, and he throws off his suit jacket before sitting and pulling me down on top of him. The fleece bunnies end up on the floor, his mouth suckling my nipple so hard, I nearly cry out. But the pressure only amps my desire, and my panties are already soaked. He switches breasts, teeth nipping and scraping the pebbled tip. I’m unable to make a sound, so lost in sensation that I can only hold onto him as fire licks across my senses. When his hand slips into my pants, between my legs, just a touch sends me over the edge. I grip his shoulders as the world spins out of control, my cries echoing in my ears as he doesn’t let up, stroking me until I can barely sit upright, and yet I’m still quaking.
He removes his fingers when I’m finally spent, tasting them while meeting my gaze. “You are delicious,” he says, his voice low and sexy. “And that’s nowhere near enough.” He helps me to my feet so he can remove my pants—and fuzzy slippers—along with my underwear. He stares at me as though I’m water in an arid dessert, and I lay my hands on his shoulders, enjoying his strength as he draws me to him. His knee separates my legs, his fingers venturing between my folds, and when he slips two fingers inside of me, I clutch him for balance.
“Do you like that, Ella?”
I can barely focus, much less form words, so I nod.
“Tell me, sweetheart. I want to hear you say it.” His fingers press against a sensitive spot, making my knees buckle, but his hand braces me. “Tell me, Ella, do you like this?”
“Y-yes,” I say, helpless against a whimper as he eases another finger inside me.
He fucks me with his hand, his thumb teasing my clit, until I can’t stand upright. When he eases me down onto the couch, he kneels before me, his hands running over my body. “So beautiful, Ella. You are stunning.”
I feel drunk, bleary-eyed, as I meet his gaze. I can’t even be self-conscious in my orgasmic haze. When his fingers return, I buck hard against them, loving the fullness but wanting his mouth on me. He toys with me, rubbing my sensitive nub until I’m almost coming, before removing the pressure, only to let it build once again.
