by Bella Rose
“You unbelievable bastard!” she shouted, pointing her index finger at him and nearly bolting toward his desk as though she were going to tackle him to the ground.
“Gentlemen,” Mikhail said mildly, raising an eyebrow. “If you would excuse us? The three of us can finish this later.”
The two department heads were both trying not to laugh. He could tell. They gave him a polite nod, ignored Courtney’s tearstained, makeup-streaked face, and then exited his office and closed the door behind them.
“Now.” Mikhail made an open gesture with his hand. “You have the floor. Can I offer you coffee or something a bit stronger perhaps?”
“Fuck off!” she shrieked. “How could you? How could you do that to me? Was that your plan all along?” Courtney demanded.
“Slow down,” Mikhail suggested. “First of all, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Of course that wasn’t entirely true, but he would start there and see if he couldn’t get her calmed down.
“Yes you do!” she argued. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. You own my father’s company. Or you will. Or whatever! You stole it from him!”
“Ah, ah,” Mikhail admonished. He wagged his finger at her. Fortunately the desk was between them because he had a feeling she would have launched herself across the room at him otherwise. “I didn’t steal anything. Your father was in deep debt. I simply purchased the business.”
“But he won’t have anything!” she wailed. “He’ll have nothing even though you say you’re buying it!”
“Well, that would be because he had to mortgage the shit out of his company to keep it afloat. Courtney, your father doesn’t own anything now. He only has what the bank is allowing him to run in order to make his interest payments. He’s in a bad way.”
“Which is why I was marrying Creighton,” she whispered.
Mikhail watched her sink slowly into one of the chair recently vacated by his department heads. She looked utterly defeated. Perhaps at one point he would have relished such a thing. Now was not that time.
“What’s wrong?” he asked softly.
She shivered. “Creighton Kemper is not a nice man.”
Mikhail recalled her fear of the man that night at Toby and Bella’s wedding reception. He ground his teeth together. “Did he hurt you?”
“Not yet,” she said dully. “But he’s been pretty graphic about what he’s intending to do with me once the wedding is done.” Her sigh held so much defeat. Mikhail felt horribly convicted by the sound. Then she swiped at her cheeks. “You don’t understand. He wants me just to punish me.”
COURTNEY WONDERED IF Mikhail even cared what happened to her. She was nothing but a one-night stand to him. He was probably done with her in every way. Now here she was begging for—well, for something. She wasn’t even sure why she had come.
Standing up, Courtney turned and headed for the office door. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you with my problems.”
“No. You should have,” he disagreed. “Especially since some of these problems are partially my doing.”
“Why?” She turned and stared at him, wishing she could understand what would possess him to do something like this. “What purpose is there in it for you?”
He only shrugged. “It’s just business.”
“Oh, was I just business too?” She began heading toward the door again.
But before she could get near it, Mikhail was there. He spun her around to face him and slid his arms around her body. It felt so good to be held by him. There was something secure in the embrace. When her whole world was falling apart, this man was strong enough to stand solid. That was what she craved so badly.
“You’re not business,” he told her.
Then he lowered his mouth to hers and took it in a breathtaking kiss that made her toes curl inside her shoes. She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him back for all she was worth. His tongue slipped inside her mouth and made love to her, the advance and retreat of his kiss a perfect counterpoint to what she knew he could do with his cock.
There was a tingle between her legs as her body softened for him. Her pussy grew wet and heavy. Heat culminated at the base of her spine, and she wondered if he could actually make her come with only a kiss. There was something utterly masterful about the way he dominated her. Yet there was tenderness too. The way he held her made her feel important, cherished even.
His hands slipped through her hair. The pins she’d used to keep it up in a loose bun pinged free and hit the wood floor of his office. Her hair spilled down her back. He gathered it in his hands and let his fingers touch her scalp. She moaned a little, parting her lips even more and allowing him deeper access to her mouth. She wanted this. She needed it. She was on fire for him and couldn’t get enough.
She pulled herself closer to his hard body. The hard ridge of his erection pressed against her belly, and she moved restlessly as she longed to feel his hard length slide deep into her body. This was so wrong in so many ways, and yet Courtney didn’t care one little bit.
MIKHAIL WAS STRUGGLING with a question of ethics. The woman was accusing him of several crimes that were insulting at the very least, yet now she was kissing him as though this was the only reason she’d come to his office.
Should he take what she was so eager to give? Or should he let cooler heads prevail? The argument lasted until she made a low noise in her throat and twisted her fingers in his dress shirt. No. He was absolutely going to fuck this woman right here and now.
“Turn around,” he ordered. “Bend over my desk and pull up your skirt.”
“What?”
“Do it.” He ground the words out, feeling as though he were hovering on the brink of insanity. “I need that sweet pussy wrapped around my cock, and I need it now.”
That seemed to be all the convincing she needed. Courtney was gasping as she turned and presented her pretty little ass for his inspection. She reached back with one hand and dragged the skirt of her dress up her legs. Her heels put her at the perfect height, and the way she arched her back and spread her legs left him staring at her thong as though it was the only flimsy barrier between him and the ultimate goal.
His cock was throbbing. Mikhail should have waited. He should have touched her and made her come, but he was so far past that he couldn’t even imagine what had happened to his control. He unfastened his pants, pulled out his cock, and tried not to come in his own hand. Using a thumb to pull the string of her thong to the side of her cleft, he fit the head of himself to her opening and savored the knowledge that she was sopping wet for him.
“You’re so fucking wet!” he exclaimed. “It’s perfect. You know that, Courtney. Your pussy was made for me to fuck.”
“Yes!” she moaned. “Mikhail, please take me now. I can’t wait anymore.”
He plunged forward, sinking his shaft deep into her body. He grabbed her hips and began to fuck hard. He lost control of everything. There was no time or space or anything else in the world. There was only his cock, her pussy, and the ultimate in satisfaction that hovered just out of reach.
For once there was no worrying about her pleasure. Mikhail reveled in the feel of her. He wanted her so badly. She was perfect for him. He stroked his cock in and out of her a dozen times, maybe more. He couldn’t tell and didn’t care. Then he felt his orgasm nipping at the edges of his consciousness and thrust deep.
“Come with me,” he ordered.
And she did. Courtney came just as prettily as she had before. Her body bucked and shuddered and squeezed him so tightly that the friction nearly made him weep with the pleasure of it. He poured his seed into her hot body and felt her milk him for more. It was exquisite and he never wanted to stop.
COURTNEY WAS FLYING and never wanted to come down. It was glorious! The relief was profound. She felt safe and cherished and wanted in ways that nobody else ever seemed to make her feel. She gripped the edges of Mikhail’s desk and savored the knowledge that it was his seed spilling dow
n the insides of her legs. She wanted that. She wanted to belong to him and nobody else.
She could hear his harsh breathing. She was also having trouble catching her breath. Then she felt him lift her dress a little farther and expose her butt cheek. His low curse startled her. He pulled out of her body abruptly and yanked her dress down to cover her backside.
Courtney spun around, feeling horribly exposed and embarrassed. Was there something wrong with her? Was she somehow damaged?”
“Who did that to you?” Mikhail snarled.
“Did what?”
He pointed. “You have a handprint on your ass, Courtney. Who did it?”
She felt the blood drain from her face as she realized that the slap of Creighton’s hand must have left a mark. Embarrassment made her almost light-headed. It was humiliating to realize that Mikhail now knew that other men thought of her as nothing but a toy to be passed around and treated like crap.
“It’s nothing,” she said faintly. “Creighton was mad.”
Mikhail’s face was a mask of fury. “Are you sleeping with him?”
“What?” She was horrified by the mere notion. “No!”
“You are!” Mikhail fastened his pants. “What was all of this? Some ploy to get me to fuck you? Are you trying to get back at him for cheating? Is that why you came here? You knew he’d be pissed?”
“No!” Courtney was horrified. “You think that of me? You think I would do something like that? I’ve never screwed Creighton Kemper in my life! I don’t want to! I hate the thought of having to submit to him as his wife. I don’t want that! Now you’re accusing me of fucking you just to get back at him? What an ego you have, Mikhail!”
Courtney didn’t have much, but she still had her pride. She pushed her dress down and smoothed her skirt. Then she turned on her heel and stalked toward the door of his office. “Let me tell you something, Mikhail Krachenko,” she said quietly. “I don’t need you any more that I need him. I don’t need anyone. And you had best remember that. You may own my father’s business and you may have all his money. But you don’t have me. And you never will.”
Chapter Eleven
Courtney’s anger at Mikhail didn’t dissipate. If anything it grew and grew until it had swollen to mythic proportions by the end of the day. How dare that man make insinuations about her? That she was trying to gain something by sleeping with him? Really? Or worse, that she was actually sleeping with Creighton?
“Over my dead body,” she muttered to herself. “I can’t even imagine a world where I would let that happen!”
Her suite in her father’s house had always been her refuge. After the way her father had treated her, it was starting to feel more like a prison. She’d always assumed she would have the same sort of life that she and her girlfriends had been groomed for their entire lives. They were women. They weren’t intended to run the businesses or take Wall Street by storm. They were supposed to be the helpers, the elbow trophies, and the mothers of the next generation of billionaires.
Courtney stared at her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t particularly mind that plan. She’d never wanted any more. Except now she realized that she wanted a lot more. She wanted respect and maybe even love. She hadn’t expected her life to be so mercenary. Yet here she was, engaged in order to assure her father’s financial security. It wasn’t even about her!
“This is bullshit,” she told herself. “I have a college degree. It might be a journalism degree, but it’s something. I can do this.”
So she did what so many others in her position had done throughout history. She called Bella and begged her to ask Toby if he would hire Courtney and give her a job.
“You want a what?” Bella whispered into the phone. “Have you lost your mind?”
Courtney was trying not to speak too loudly. She was in her bedroom, but there was no telling whether or not her father might be camped outside her door waiting to see if she was going to rebel or not. “It’s not like I told you I want to become a stripper or something, Bells,” Courtney reminded her friend. “I don’t care if Toby has to get me a job in the mail room. I need to be able to support myself.”
“You do realize that you’d never be able to afford to live like you’re used to with a mail room job, right?” Bella sounded hesitant.
“I get that.” Courtney sighed. “I have a little money. Not enough to live on without working, but enough that I can make it by without my father’s help if I have to.”
“I’ll talk to Toby,” Bella finally agreed. “I have no idea what he’ll say, but I’ll talk to him. What are you going to do?”
“I’m not sure.” Courtney gnawed her lower lip. “I need to think about it some more and try to figure out my options, you know?”
“Well, sit tight,” Bella advised. “Don’t let anyone know what you’re doing. Your father might go drastic.”
“Like what? Lock me in a tower?”
“I don’t know!” Bella laughed. “This whole thing is like some bizarre modern fairy-tale anyway. Why not a tower?”
“Ugh. Fine. Hurry up and get me employed so I can get out of here!” Courtney hung up the phone and tried to decide what to do next. Unfortunately there really wasn’t a whole lot she could do. It was going to be a long couple of days.
* * *
Mikhail frowned at his phone as Toby’s number came up on the screen. “What?”
“So I just thought you might be interested in the fact that Courtney just asked Bella to request that I give her a job at my company.” Toby sounded a little smug. “I was thinking I might have some openings for janitorial staff available.”
Mikhail tried and failed to imagine Courtney cleaning toilets. Not that she was too proud for that work. She had never been snooty like that. But he didn’t like to imagine her doing menial tasks. “So give her the job. Is that why you were calling?”
“I’m not sure why I’m calling you,” Toby remarked. “I’m not in the habit of running my employment decisions past anyone at all. But you’re up to your eyeballs in this Courtney Piers-Cameron thing, and I thought you might have a horse in this race.”
“And that was one too many clichés in one sentence,” Mikhail growled. “Obviously she’s trying to get out from under her father’s thumb. Good for her. Let’s help her.”
“Where are you going with this?” Toby wanted to know. “Bella is worried that you’re just going to hurt Courtney.”
“That isn’t my intention.” Mikhail trailed off as he received a message from his secretary that a Mr. Vasily Romanov was waiting to see him. “Toby, I have to go. Unfortunately it would appear that my past has come knocking on my door.”
Toby’s sardonic chuckle was not encouraging. “Good luck with that.”
“Vasily,” Mikhail said, standing as his cousin walked into the office.
Vasily walked slowly around Mikhail’s corner office. He took in the view, the rich furnishings, the newness of the building, and the prestige that it all obviously indicated. Then he turned and gave Mikhail a long once-over. “You’ve done quite well for yourself, Mikhail.”
Mikhail chose his words carefully. It would not do him any favors to seem proud. “It seems so.”
“We did not hold out much hope for you.” Vasily shrugged. “But now it seems that we were mistaken.”
“Or not,” Mikhail said smoothly. “I cannot think that I ever would have been very successful within your organization. I’m not much of a team player.”
“We’ve noticed.” Vasily’s smile was that of a predator eyeing his prey. “Which is why we are going to ask you nicely to back out of the sale of Pierson Security.”
“I’m sorry.” Mikhail managed to keep his voice mild even though he could hear the blood roaring in his ears and he wanted badly to tell Vasily exactly where he could shove his suggestion. “But that sale is already finalized.”
“Then we are politely requesting that you give the company in its entirety to Creighton Kemper.” Vasily examined his nails
as though he had not made an absolutely outrageous request.
Mikhail ground his teeth together and tried to remember that Vasily could order Mikhail’s death with one phone call. “I realize that your business acumen is not well-developed in the traditional sense,” Mikhail began slowly. “But surely you can understand that unless Mr. Kemper is willing to reimburse me the billion dollars I invested in the purchase of Pierson Security, I can promise my board of directors will never condone a transfer.”
“Then make it happen.” Vasily shrugged. “Or we will kill you and be done.”
Mikhail couldn’t help it. He laughed. He threw his head back and let the laughter roll out of his gut. “I own a security firm, Vasily. I employ a vast number of former Special Forces soldiers who are now work as my personal mercenaries. I could dismantle your entire organization from the inside out with one phone call. I understand that I have managed to step into the middle of whatever plan that you, your colleagues, and Creighton Kemper have arranged. But you must realize that Kemper promised you something he could never deliver anyway. His receipt of Pierson Security was only going to happen if he married Courtney Piers-Cameron. The woman would rather eat glass. Trust me. Kemper lied. So go take it up with him and don’t poke the bear.” Mikhail glared at Vasily, knowing that his bravado was the only way that he was going to get out of this untenable situation with his fortune, his life, and his company intact. “Trust me, Vasily. You do not want to go there.”
* * *
Courtney shifted nervously from one foot to the other. The only reason she’d made it out of the house at all was because she’d managed to convince her father that she had an appointment with the florist. In reality she was standing in the lobby of Toby Pinckney’s building, waiting to greet a human resources rep that was supposed to be taking her for an employment prescreen. Whatever that was.
“Hello, Ms. Piers-Cameron?” A woman held out her hand for Courtney to shake. “I’m Trisha. I’ll be taking you down for the lab testing and to fill out some forms. Welcome to Pinckney Industries.”
