Wyatt (Lane Brothers #1)

by Kristina Weaver

  No, a week ago I had been in control of every single aspect of my life, and while I may not have been happy, exactly, it sure as hell beat what I’m feeling now.

  I look and feel like crap, and I don’t know what’s going to happen from one moment to the next.

  At least I got to tell Gregory Lucas what a douchebag he is.

  Small consolation, but that is true. It makes me feel a little better, and I can damn well guarantee the man will never come near me again.

  “I’m talking about the fact that Lucas has bought the agency! Lock, stock, and freaking barrel. Yates is staying on as VP, but from now on we’re going to be seeing a lot of him. He’s coming in to get things running smoothly. Apparently he’s some sort of financial genius, and he aims to get the agency back to its maximum potential.”

  I don’t think I’ve heard correctly. I pray I haven’t as nausea and a not-too-small dose of dread hits me.

  “He’s coming in today! I guess I shouldn’t be so excited. I mean, he’s hot and all, but totally off the market.”

  “Huh?”

  “I Googled him. I should have done it days ago. You’ll never guess who he’s engaged to. Selena Jeffries, of the New York Jeffries! I hope we get to meet her. I’m so excited.”

  I’ll bet. I, on the other hand, feel as if my life has entered the twilight zone, and the normal, organised woman I was is currently flitting around in an alternate universe while I’m stuck living a practical joke.

  I am a whore, a total slut, a home-wrecker. I’ve just banged a man who’s practically married.

  Lucy leaves, eventually, thank God, and by lunch I’ve been summoned by Mr Yates. Jordan hasn’t been in yet, and as I think about what could be happening I am not even slightly worried about the dress any more.

  My stomach has been tied in knots since Lucy’s little bomb, and I have a feeling as I exit the elevator that it’s going to get worse.

  “Go right in, Han, they’re waiting for you,” Taz says, giving me a thumbs up.

  They?

  I enter the office and force myself not to freeze when I see him casually sitting on the deep brown sofa, a smile lining his lips.

  “Mr Yates. Mr Lucas.”

  “Good afternoon, Miss Newman. Have a seat, please.”

  This is awkward, and not just because I told Gregory Lucas to go doodle himself. I can almost see the accusation in Yates’ eyes when he looks at me. I am not the only one who saw the gossip pages yesterday.

  “As you already know, the agency is now a part of Lucas Enterprises. We’ve been looking for a partner for a while, and I’m pleased to say that we have now found one. Mr Lucas will be here for the next month as he restructures the company and oversees our relocation to the financial district, where Lucas Enterprises is based.”

  We’re moving? Great, I’m going to have to get engaged to the goddamned subway just to get to work.

  “Jordan is not coming back, Miss Newman, and as a result that leaves you at loose ends.”

  Here it comes, I think, throwing a glare at my nemesis. Why I didn’t think this would get me fired is beyond me, but I should have known he’d throw a tantrum and have my ass kicked to the curb. I’m almost relieved, almost, as I keep my gaze trained away from him and breathe deeply.

  “You will be moving up here for the remainder of our stay, to assist Mr Lucas until such a time as we can place you elsewhere. For now I would like you to assist Taz in the packing and organisation of the upcoming move.”

  My brain has stalled and hooked on the first part of that statement. It’s only when I turn and look directly at Gregory that I know and believe what I’ve just heard.

  “Miss Newman?”

  I snap to attention and turn to Yates. I know what he sees: a woman in shock, horror, mortified. I’m speechless, and I know my face is telling the whole story as I gape at them.

  Work for Gregory Lucas? No. I can’t…

  “Perhaps you should give us a minute, Yates.”

  I wait until we’re alone before turning back to him.

  “I don’t want to work for you. Move me somewhere else or fire me.”

  I can get another job, hopefully. What I can’t do is spend every day for the next weeks with this two-timing asshole without doing something I’ll regret, and I know it.

  “No, Hannah,” he says quietly, walking over to kneel at my chair. “You’ll be with me every day until I’ve had my fill of you.”

  Wait, what? Like I’m a bottomless Coke or something? He’ll drink till he’s full and then throw me away? Hell no.

  “Mr Lucas—”

  “You can’t argue here, Hannah. I hold all the cards. I tried to be nice about this and explain—”

  “What, exactly?” I interrupt, trying to stand. “What did you want to explain? How about why you felt it necessary to treat me like a call girl? Why you slept with me in the first place? Because from where I’m standing—”

  “I behaved poorly—”

  “Ya think? Look, Gregory, just forget about it. Place me with another exec and do your thing with the company; I’ll do mine. This thing…whatever it was, is over.”

  I am trapped in the chair and so conscious of his hand on my thigh. The sad truth of it is that no matter how disgusted I am by his behavior, my body is front and center, replaying the things he can make me feel.

  Control, Hannah.

  “I can’t do that. I want you,” he admits, and I see he likes that thought about as much as I do.

  “You have a fiancée,” I say between gritted teeth. “We should never have slept together in the first place. You’re a cheat, Gregory Lucas, and you’ve made me one by extension. I don’t want this, or you, or anything to do with you,” I hiss, pushing with enough force that I’m able to gain my feet and back towards the door.

  “Hannah—”

  “Shove your job. I’ll get another one.”

  There. I feel better already. Taking control back is a small victory because I know it’s costing me a job I can’t afford to lose, and that by this time next week I’ll probably be working a checkout counter if I’m lucky, but as I say the words I feel the familiar calm I’ve been searching for settle over me.

  “You can’t do that. You have too much invested here to just walk out,” he insists in a low growl.

  I can see he’s upset, that losing the advantage is not common practice and that he’s struggling to come back from my about face.

  “I can. I can do whatever I goddamned want. I win,” I say, smiling icily as I reach for the door.

  “Do you? What do you think your sister will say when I close the doors to Sweet Nothings?”

  The question stops me in my tracks, and I turn slowly, knowing I’ve just lost the battle. Hell, it has been a losing cause since the beginning. Why I’d thought Gregory would play fair I can’t say. What I can’t figure is why he’s doing this at all.

  “What?”

  “I invested in her bakery. She’s doing a piss poor job of managing it, and I stepped in—”

  “Why? Why are you doing this? Friday night told me loud and clear how much you don’t want me. I’m giving you an easy out, considering you’re engaged to another woman. Let me go.”

  I taste bile as the words pass my lips and swallow back a stream of curses and recriminations. I am floundering here, trying to understand what the hell is going on, and no matter how hard I try I can’t get a handle on it. Or myself.

  “Hannah.”

  “No! You’re just being a sore loser! Why can’t you just leave me alone?” I yell, not caring if anyone hears.

  He’s standing there, threatening me, blackmailing me to sleep with him again until he finally loses interest, and unless he changes his mind I know I have no choice. I’ll hate myself the entire time, and any liking for him that may still linger will turn into something I promised myself three years ago I would never feel again.

  I don’t want to hate him.

  Everything around me has become chaos, and inst
ead of finding order I feel as if I’m sinking into quicksand.

  “Please, Gregory.”

  He closes his eyes for a second before opening them to pin me with a glare.

  “The condom broke.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  I do not react in any outward way. At least, not then, and most definitely not in Gregory’s presence. To be honest, when he’d said the words I’d pretty much just stood there, frozen and speechless as they sank in and marinated my brain.

  These things happen. I have to keep reminding myself of it four days later as I sit at my desk, arranging meetings and a whole host of things for Gregory.

  Yeah, don’t even judge me. I have no choice but to do what he wants. I consider myself lucky that he’d allowed me to just walk out and go back to my desk without pressuring me immediately.

  Hell, it’s been four days of constant meetings, and car rides to those meetings, and…we’ve been together a lot. I think he’s giving me time not to have a nervous breakdown before he puts the screws to me.

  I snort and stack the documents I’ve just printed, when a feminine trill reaches me from the doorway and I look up to see a blonde goddess walking my way.

  “Oh, hi. I’m Selena.”

  Looking at the fiancée of the man you’ve recently banged and keeping yourself from crumbling into a confession-riddled heap as you kiss her feet and beg forgiveness…not the easiest thing in the world.

  “Ah, er, hello. I’ll just buzz Mr Lucas,” I say weakly, keeping my eyes downcast.

  So sue me, I am terrified she’ll take one look at me and know what I’ve done. Explaining that I had no clue he is engaged isn’t much of a consolation anyway, and I wouldn’t blame her if she punched me and picked me bald.

  “Hannah,” he breathes into the phone, making me aware that my time is up as far as the stay of sexecution is concerned.

  “Mr Lucas, sir, Miss Jeffries is here to see you,” I say calmly, though my heart is pounding and I feel awful.

  Is it right to feel like I’m being betrayed here? Probably not, but as he clears his throat and tells me to show her in, I feel used and betrayed and…hurt.

  Weird, huh?

  But a little okay, considering he’d just told me the goddamned condom broke and he has no intention of letting me go until he’s used me up. God. I should tell Amber she can deal with him herself and take Nana and just skip town.

  I know it, I know it’s the most sensible and rational thing to do, and yet as I rise and show Selena Jeffries into his office, I know I’m staying exactly where I am.

  “Lena.”

  I watch as he leans in to place a soft kiss on her cheek and greet her warmly.

  “Will that be all?”

  That’s right, Han, be professional.

  When he looks up at me over her shoulder, his eyes guileless and unmoved, I know I am in deep shit. Gregory Lucas feels no shame in owning me even as he kisses his fiancée.

  “For now, Hannah.”

  I turn and walk out, keeping my spine stiff and unyielding the whole hour I am forced to work while another woman — his woman — is in there with him, doing God knows what.

  When she finally comes out, Gregory steering her toward the elevator, I force myself to keep working and not look up. Guilt or jealousy, I don’t know, but I feel wretched.

  “Come into my office please, Han.”

  I don’t want him to call me Han. Or Hannah. Or darlin’. I want to be Miss Newman again. Miss Newman isn’t a foolish ninny or a two-timing—

  “I’ll be right with you, Mr Lucas. I just have to send this email,” I say, keeping my eyes on the monitor.

  “Now, Hannah. We need to talk,” he says implacably.

  But I don’t want to! Why can’t he just leave me alone while I wait to go to the doctor’s? The minute I get a negative result, bakery or no bakery, I am so out of here.

  I’m a fool, but I’m no idiot, and I know that staying any longer than that will not only destroy me, but will push me back into that dark, trapped place where I existed three years ago.

  I rise, collecting my notepad and pencil, to follow him into his office, tensing when I hear the lock snick into place. He steers me to the seating area on the right and waits for me to sit before coming down beside me.

  “Hannah, look at me please.”

  I do, keeping my face blank as I meet his hard, determined eyes.

  “We haven’t spoken since Monday.”

  No, I know, I’ve done my utmost not to be alone with him long enough to have this conversation, and he damned well knows it. But as I’ve said, my reprieve is up, and I know he won’t stop until he gets what he wants.

  “I’ve made an appointment at the doctor for week after next. When I know, you’ll know,” I say in a no-nonsense voice I am immensely proud of.

  He leans back with a huff, and I see the frustration written all over his face. This can’t be easy for him. I mean, the man is so used to getting his own way in all things, so my attitude is probably a foreign concept, like snow in June.

  “You’re skirting the issue here, Han.”

  “I am not your goddamned ‘Han.’ Or ‘darlin’.’ Or any other thing you want to call me!” I hiss, coming to my feet with a speed that leaves me dizzy. “I work for you. End of story.”

  He’s upset now, angry that I won’t just fall in with his plans, as if by some quirk of fate he’s only now meeting resistance from a woman. I want to laugh, a real, out-loud belly laugh, because his expression reminds me of a sulky child’s.

  “You forget so easily what we shared?”

  Oh, so now he’s going to look at me with scorn? I wasn’t the one who’d fled the bed with a haste that signalled more than fear of commitment.

  “We shared one night,” I laugh scornfully. “One hour’s worth of ho-hum sex that I’d rather not repeat again. Thanks though.”

  So what if it’s a bald-faced lie? I’m not proud of how traitorous my body is, but I am so on board with the reasonable part of me that insists that sleeping with Gregory will be the biggest mistake I have ever made.

  Apparently I’ve become a comedian, because my proud little speech is met with laughter and a look that spells out just how much he believes me.

  “It was perfect and you know it. Stop trying to piss me off, and sit down, Han. We have to talk about this.”

  I sit, but only because if I don’t he’ll probably make me. The door is locked, and I’m not getting out of here until he’s good and ready to dismiss me. Again.

  “What do you want to talk about, exactly? The fact that you treated me like crap? No,” I say, holding out a hand to silence him. “I am not even a little interested in whatever bullshit story you want to peddle me. You know what you did.”

  “Yes.”

  “What about the fact that you’re engaged to another woman?” I ask, and I can’t keep the hurt and anger from my voice. “You pursued me to the point that I wanted — never mind. But the fact remains, I told you this wasn’t a good idea, and you did it anyway. And now you want more?”

  This is worse than I thought. He’s worse, because as I talk his face becomes expressionless and I know I’m wasting my breath.

  “I just met the woman you’re going to marry, for God’s sake. What kind of lowlife are you?”

  “The kind who isn’t willing to give you up just because of a marriage license, Hannah. Now get used to the fact that we’re together,” he growls, pinning me to the spot with a look that brooks no argument.

  “Mr Lu—”

  “Stop fucking saying that! My name is Gregory. Use it. Now get back to work. I’ll be by to pick you up at eight. Be ready. Oh, and darlin’?” he says, dragging the word out like a caress. “Don’t make this harder for yourself than it has to be.”

  That’s all. That’s the sum of our ‘talk’. I leave him without a backward glance, cursing him and myself as a thrill zings through me. I’m more excited at the prospect of being with him again than I am appalled by wha
t we’re doing.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “What! You can’t honestly mean…he’s an asshole, Hannah!”

  “Come on, Chris, please try to understand. I really like him.”

  It’s seven on a Friday night, and I’m an hour away from what I now think of as the gallows date. I literally feel as if I’m walking to my own doom. You know, figuratively, and instead of telling Chrissie the truth about Gregory and his two-timing ass, I’m asking her to babysit Nana while I pretend to actually like Gregory.

  It sucks that this is now what I’ve been reduced to, a woman with no clue as to what will happen. Which means no control, and that’s almost worse than knowing I’m about to sleep with a man who’s committed to someone else.

  I really hate Gregory Lucas.

  “Gooood! I can’t believe you’re falling for his smooth talking,” she mutters, throwing her hands up in disgust.

  If only she knew how untrue that statement is. I’m not falling for anything. I’m already at rock bottom with no way up.

  “Just help me out. Please,” I beg. “I’m not promising anything here. It’s just a date for him to explain things. If I’m not liking what I hear, I’ll throw a drink in his face and leave.”

  I see her capitulation and hug her when she finally just nods and grabs her key, closing her door to follow me into my place. The reason I’ve been forced to this is that the ‘helper’ I’d hired quit this afternoon. I could have asked why and tried to convince her to stay, but honestly, I know exactly why a week in had been enough for her.

  “Oh hello, Christina, dear. You’re looking particularly fetching this evening. Did Hannah tell you she’s going on a date?” she asks excitedly, and I roll my eyes heavenward.

  “I wouldn’t get too happy there, Nana,” she warns, making a beeline for the kitchen and the knife set. “The guy is an absolute A-hole.”

  Great, thanks a lot, Chris.

  “Why, is that true, Hannah? Is the man an A-hole?” she asks, so seriously I choke on a laugh and throw Chris a fulminating glare. “I would hate for you to get hung up on a man who is not worthy of you.”

  Bless her heart.