Annihilate Me

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Annihilate Me Page 1

by Christina Ross




  For my parents.

  And for strong-willed women everywhere.

  Copyright and Legal Notice: This publication is protected under the US Copyright Act of 1976 and all other applicable international, federal, state and local laws, and all rights are reserved, including resale rights.

  Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if we use one of these terms. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means (including photocopying, recording, or information storage and retrieval) without permission in writing from the author.

  First ebook edition © 2013.

  Disclaimer:

  This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to persons living or dead (unless explicitly noted) is merely coincidental. Copyright © 2013 Christina Ross. All rights reserved worldwide.

  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  This book begins with the two final chapters of Annihilate Me, Vol. 1, to remind readers of where we left of…for key reasons.

  Enjoy!

  ANNIHILATE ME

  Vol. 2

  By Christina Ross

  CHAPTER ONE

  New York City

  September

  When the elevator doors opened, Alex stood beyond them, just as he had the last time, with his hands in his pockets and a grin on his face.

  Only this time wasn’t like the last time. This time was different. We were moving in a new direction that became immediately apparent when he held out his hand for mine and drew me close to him. He kissed me lightly on the lips. Then, in my ear, in a voice that was so low, it was beyond sexy, he said, “You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you.”

  He admired my dress. “That should get some attention.”

  “It might even blind a few people.”

  He arched an eyebrow at me. “It would make for an interesting night if it did.” He reached out and gently touched my hair. “I love it when you wear your hair down.”

  “I know you do.”

  “Did you do it for me?”

  “I might have given it a thought.”

  “I’m glad that you did. Do you remember when we officially met? At the interview? We were talking, you pulled out a pin in your hair, it tumbled down your back, and I was transfixed. Then, it was wavy. Now, it’s straight. Either way, I love it. When I think of you, this is how I imagine you. With your hair down. With it falling down your back. With you shaking it out with your hands in an effort to cool yourself, if only for an instant.”

  I could feel myself starting to get warm. “Here,” I said, wanting to take the attention off me. “Let me have a look at you.” I pulled away from him, and he put his hands back in his pockets, cocked his head to one side, and grinned. “Very handsome, Mr. Wenn.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Kent.”

  “But then I love you in a tux. And in a suit.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “If we were to psychoanalyze the situation, it likely would come down to some Prince Charming fantasies I had as a kid. You know, someone who would sweep me away from all that I wanted to forget.”

  “What did you want to forget?”

  “I’ve forgotten,” I lied. “And it doesn’t matter now, because here he is. Right in front of me.”

  “You don’t say?”

  “I do say.”

  “Why do I want to devour you right now?”

  “Probably for the same reasons I want to tackle you. But Bernie worked hard, so we’ll respect that.”

  “We better change the subject or my hands are going to be all over you.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?”

  “Jennifer....”

  “Blackwell and I had fun today,” I said. “I don’t know how she does it, but that woman is nothing if not on her game.”

  “She always has been. My mother loved her for it. I’ve always thought they should name a hurricane after her.”

  “It would need to be Category 5. Why shortchange her?”

  “Good point.” He paused for a moment. “Would you mind turning around for me? Just so I can see the rest of the dress?”

  I started to turn, but then he put his hand on my shoulder and stopped me so my back was to him. “I want to have a long look,” he said. “Do you mind?”

  His hand resting on my bare shoulder was almost enough to do me in. But then he removed it and I heard him take a step back.

  “Did you pick this out?”

  “Blackwell did.”

  “Blackwell has an eye.” His voice was off to my left. Then, I heard him come up behind me. “In fact, I know she does. With her help, I picked out this.”

  Over my head came a diamond and sapphire necklace that made me catch my breath when I caught a glimpse of it as he moved my hair aside and fastened it around me. Blackwell, I thought. Missing a necklace, indeed.

  The stones were cool against my neck. “Alex,” I said.

  “My gift to you.”

  “But all of this is a gift from you.”

  “May I see?”

  I turned to him with my hand pressed against the stones.

  “You’ll need to lower your hand, Jennifer.”

  “Sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

  “I say it’s beautiful. What do you think? There’s a mirror to your left. Look.”

  I turned and saw that the necklace was in the same family as the other jewels. A delicate clutch of diamonds circled my neck, followed by a single, vertical line of three larger diamonds at my throat. At the end of that was a large teardrop sapphire surrounded by smaller diamonds that set just above my cleavage.

  “It’s gorgeous,” I said. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “There’s no need to say anything.”

  “Yes, there is.” I kissed him, but not as gently as before. I pressed against him with every bit of raw emotion I had within me. I leaned full into his kiss, which probed deep. With his body so close to mine, I could feel all of him against me, some of it pulsing. When we pulled away, the collateral damage was clear—he was practically wearing my lipstick. “Here,” I said, opening the clutch Blackwell let me borrow. “Tissues. Let me fix that.”

  “Before you do, how about this first?” He went in for the kill again. Only this time, his hands smoothed down my sides and rested on my ass, which he squeezed, and then gripped. He pulled me firmly against him so I knew exactly what he was feeling.

  My nipples hardened when he did that. A shiver shot through me. I’d never experienced anything like this before, but then I’d never dated anyone before. Still, plenty of other men had tried to catch my eye over the years. Why was this so different? Why did I feel such a strong connection to Alex? Is this what it felt like when you met the ‘one’? I had no idea. I wished Lisa were here so I could ask her, because she’d know. She’d been in two long-term relationships. She’d be able to tell me what I was feeling, and why. As for me, this was foreign territory. He’d turned me on so much that I wa
s dizzy with desire. When he kissed me, it felt as if my heart was shaking. A moment later, when he stopped with a gentle bite to my lower lip that obviously was designed to send me to the outer reaches of the universe, where I thought I saw a comet or a nebula, I somehow managed to pull it together and look at him.

  “You’re going to do me in.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “I’m glad you have a plan. Very resourceful of you. And by the way, what was that?”

  “What was what?”

  “That bite thing you did?”

  “Just something I thought you might like. Was I wrong?”

  “You weren’t wrong.”

  “You should see what else I can do with my teeth and my tongue.”

  “Stop.”

  “No, really. You should see.”

  “Alex.”

  “Why are your eyes unfocused?”

  “Because I can’t handle being manhandled.” I lifted my head to the ceiling and collected myself. When I looked at him again, I saw the mischief in his eyes. “Why are you doing this to me?”

  “Because you want me to.”

  I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I said, “I need to blot your lips again.”

  “Please do.”

  I blotted.

  “Am I good to go?” he asked.

  “One more swipe.”

  “I kind of like you on my lips.”

  “I kind of like me on your lips.”

  “You might want to look in the mirror,” he said.

  “Oh, no.” I looked and saw that my lipstick was gone, but at least it hadn’t smeared. After all of Bernie’s work, that would have been a disaster. I pulled out the tube of lipstick Blackwell left for me in the clutch and reapplied.

  “Are we finished?” I asked.

  “For now.”

  “Then let’s get out of here before we decide to stay.”

  * * *

  When we arrived at the museum, the building’s facade was lit in bright oranges and deep reds. People were walking up the wide stone steps to the entrance.

  Camera flashes popped. The steps were roped off to allow entrance only for the guests, but there were crowds on the sidelines and they were cheering. I remembered what Blackwell said—this was a major draw for celebrities. Given the sheer amount of photographs that were being taken, that appeared to be an understatement.

  “Are you nervous?” Alex asked.

  “Not at all.”

  “Get ready for the press.”

  “They need to get ready for my dress. I’m about to be lit up like a disco ball.”

  “Who better?” he asked.

  * * *

  We were twenty minutes inside the Theodore Roosevelt Rotunda—the walls of which also were set ablaze with concealed orange lighting—when I saw a man looking directly at Alex and me.

  Given the distraction of the towering and show-stopping brontosaurus skeleton, the crowds—and the famous faces within the crowds—I was surprised that I noticed him at all. But he was looking so openly at us, and with such anger, it was difficult to miss him. He was an older man, somewhere in his late fifties, and he looked familiar to me. I’d seen him before.

  Where?

  I lifted my martini to my lips and spoke, but didn’t sip. “Why is that man staring at us?”

  “Which man?”

  “Near the skeleton. Gray hair. Fifties. Very tan. He’s looked away a few times, but he keeps turning back. He’s looking at us now, and he looks pissed. Who is he?”

  “Someone who would rather see me dead.”

  I looked up at him. “That’s kind of harsh.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Let’s walk over here.”

  We joined the milling crowds and stopped beside one of the glowing walls, which Alex leaned against, thus keeping his back to the mystery man and me squarely facing him so we could talk in private.

  “His name is Gordon Kobus.”

  “Kobus Airlines,” I said. “Of course. I knew I knew him. His company is about to go under. I’ve read about it.”

  Alex shook his head at me. “Jennifer, what don’t you know?”

  “I told you I’m a business junkie. I live for this stuff. Just don’t ever ask me to sew anything for you. Like a button on one of your suits. I’d ruin it, and that would kill me for reasons you already know.”

  “Noted.”

  “Kobus just applied for emergency funding from the government.”

  “It did.”

  “One of the stories said that the board is also seeking new investors. But they likely won’t have time to secure either. Because of the size and the good condition of the fleet, too many are ready to sweep in and take over the company for themselves, hostile or otherwise.” And then I just looked at Alex when it came to me. “Which is you, right? Wenn Air. You’re planning a takeover. You want to add his fleet to your own.”

  It wasn’t a question it was a statement.

  “I do,” Alex said. “We’re in the early stages now—we’re wooing management in an effort to get them on our side, which hasn’t exactly been difficult. They’re finished with him. He knows it, and you’re right—Gordon isn’t having any of it.” He shrugged. “I don’t blame him. Kobus used to be his baby, but he’s put baby in the corner for years. He didn’t mind the store. He’s lived a playboy lifestyle for a decade now, he didn’t listen to his board, he didn’t listen to counsel, and now it’s all caught up with him. I plan on taking his company from him and merging it with my own. We’ll give his fleet Wenn’s first-class treatment, and manage it successfully.”

  “How soon?”

  He shrugged. “Not sure. Depends on management. But these things take time. If they’re for it, we can finish this by winter. If they resist, then we get more aggressive. We apply pressure, and then we make our intentions public. Then it really gets ugly. Either way, we’re going forward with it.”

  I clinked my martini glass against his and we knocked them back.

  “That was refreshing,” I said.

  “The martini or the talk of the takeover?”

  “Both.”

  He looked at me sincerely. “I’m glad you’re here, Jennifer. I don’t think you know what it means to me. I could talk with you all night. I know it’s still early, but I hope you’re having a good time.”

  I certainly was back at Wenn. “I just talked about takeovers with someone who not only understands what they are, but who actually does them. Are you joking? I’m in my element. Oh, and by the way, I look like I’m straight out of Gatsby and I have the night’s smartest, best-looking date. Because of you, I’m having a fabulous time.”

  I took his free hand in mine and our fingers interlocked. There were no other words to express how I felt. He tightened his grip, and then he leaned forward to give me a quick peck on the cheek.

  “Your stubble is going to do me in.”

  “You like that?”

  “Please, don’t tease me.”

  “You haven’t even seen me tease you yet,” he said.

  * * *

  Later, when dinner was announced, we followed the crowd to Milstein Hall, which caused me to pause when we descended the steps that led to the massive space. It was lit in rippling hues of blue that evoked the ocean, and it was filled with fifty tables set for ten. Hovering just below the glass ceiling was an enormous replica of a blue whale that I thought had to be close to a hundred feet long. I’d never seen anything like it. It was magical.

  My father entered my head again and started his bullshit rant about how I didn’t belong here, but I mentally shook him away. Or at least, I tried to. I looked around at the sea of celebrities, people I had seen for years on television and in movies, or musicians I admired, and I knew he was right. Who was I to be here? It made no logical sense.

  But I am here, I thought. And I’m here for a reason. Where did these people come from? Did all of them come from a priv
ileged life? Or did they work for it? I’m betting most worked for it. I bet, just like me, most never thought they’d see anything like this.

  “Are you OK?” Alex asked.

  I realized I was gripping his hand more firmly than before, and I forced myself to relax. “I’m fine. It’s just so much. It’s beautiful.”

  At the bottom of the stairs, one of the hosts greeted us and took us to our table, where none other than Immaculata Almendarez herself was seated.

  “This should be interesting,” I said quietly.

  “She planned it,” he said. “So, it will be interesting. Get ready.”

  Naturally, when the host seated us, Alex was placed directly beside Immaculata, while I was asked to take the seat between him and an older gentleman.

  “Alex,” Immaculata said, turning to look at him. “What a surprise.”

  “Really? I was thinking, ‘What a coincidence.’”

  “You’re so funny.” She leaned forward to look at me, and I saw her eyes go to the diamonds and sapphires at my ears, neck and wrist. “And I see you’re still with Jane.”

  “It’s Jennifer,” I said.

  “Right, right. Why do I always think of you as a Jane?”

  “I’m not sure, Immaculata. The only thing I can imagine is that as we get older, our capacity to remember things begins to fail.”

  “It begins to what?”

  “Fail. Like our hearing, for instance. You should have yours checked. Our bodies eventually betray us.”

  “Mine hasn’t yet,” she said as she pressed her fingertips against the table, and arched her back toward them and it, thus allowing us all to glimpse the full weight of her formidable breasts, which were barely covered by her plunging black dress. I thought she looked desperate, and I didn’t mind when she reached for Alex’s hand when she turned her attention to him. “How are you?” she asked.

  “Working hard, Immaculata.”

  “You always work so hard.”

 

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