“You look fantastic. Are you not even a little bit hungover?” I had watched him drink at least as much as I had. How was it even possible?
Nate paused his stride on the way to the mini-bar, his forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Hungover? No.” As though the idea were ludicrous. As though he’d never been hungover in his life.
Maybe he hadn’t. Now that I thought about it, I’d never been around to see him if he had.
He really was a god.
“Hey, Nate, I was just telling Donovan that we really haven’t given as much consideration to your candidacy as bridegroom as we—”
“No,” he said with finality.
Donovan shrugged as if to say, what did you expect?
“This is bullshit. I shouldn’t be the one condemned to—” Once again, I was interrupted by the opening of the lounge doors. This time, Roxie, my amazing and faithful assistant, stood there, gesturing for the woman behind her to come inside.
I moved my gaze to the stranger as she entered the room. She was sharply dressed in heels and a designer pantsuit. The royal blue color showcased her creamy skin and long red hair, which bounced with a natural wave. The tailored pants were business and attitude while the satin cowl neck softened her and gave just a hint of cleavage, so the outfit managed to make her appear both professional and feminine at the same time.
She was a knockout. Put together and made of money. She held her shoulders back and her neck high. She knew how to carry herself.
She was the kind of woman who could carry the world.
“Here you are,” Roxie said in her Hungarian accent. “Gentlemen, Elizabeth Dyson here to see you.”
Donovan immediately jumped up to greet her. Nate followed suit.
And I forgot words.
What words meant, how to say them, how to translate what they meant when other people said them around me.
The thing was this—I was not particular when it came to which women I took to bed. Tall, short, plump, thin. I liked them blond or brunette. I liked them of all racial and religious varieties. I liked them moody or sporty. I liked cougars. I liked them barely legal. It didn’t matter. I liked women. Period.
But I did have a type.
Smart.
That was my weakness. If she had a fantastic body to match, I was a goner. Sabrina Lind, for example. She was that kind of girl. She had everything going on upstairs plus everything going on outside.
And dammit, so did Elizabeth Dyson.
She had yet to open her mouth, and I could tell that she was one of the smartest women I’d ever met. I could spot a hot brain a mile away. I had a sense for it. It was something about the way a woman carried herself. The way she wore her clothes. The way she did her hair, the way she held her lips. A smart woman wore her brain everywhere on her body.
Fuck if Elizabeth Dyson’s hot brain wasn’t on full display.
“Weston?” The tone in Donovan’s voice made it sound like he’d said my name more than once before I heard it.
I shook myself and stepped forward with my hand out in greeting. “Hi, Weston King.”
“As Donovan just said,” Elizabeth Dyson remarked, her hand closing around mine. Her shake was as firm as her voice, and both were stiff. Neither were as stiff as my cock was threatening to be in my pants if I couldn’t keep it down.
I focused just past her, not meeting her gaze, in an attempt to settle myself.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She included all of us in her appraising look, not lingering on anyone. It was a much-needed reminder that this was an arrangement. There was going to be no flirting, no “player” me, as Donovan had said the night before.
Though, for the life of me, I couldn’t quite remember why.
“Let’s get started, shall we?” Donovan said, gesturing for all of us to sit down. He dominated most rooms without even trying, and I expected this one to be no different.
Except as we headed toward the couches to take our seats, Elizabeth surprised me.
“Donovan, just a moment,” she said, and even though he hadn’t been talking, it felt like an interruption. “I’m sure you have things to say, but I have a few things I’d like to say first.”
She was still standing, and so the rest of us didn’t know what to do—whether we should take a seat, or stand as well. It was common courtesy to wait until the guest took a seat before we did, and here she was still erect.
Shouldn’t have thought the word erect. It was a bad mistake on my part. I had to think of unsexy things very quickly. Zombies killing people. Zombies eating their flesh.
“Go ahead and take a seat,” she said, looking mostly at Donovan.
And that’s when it was completely clear. She’d taken over. She’d taken charge.
She was dominating Donovan.
And something about that was fucking hot. I tried to think unsexy thoughts.
Zombies eating Donovan’s flesh.
We sat. Everyone did. Including Elizabeth. Including Donovan.
“Would you care for something to drink?” Nate asked.
“No, thank you. I’d rather just get to the point.” She crossed one long leg over the other and set her hands in her lap. Then she leaned back ever so slightly, shifting her gaze from one of us to the next, meeting each of our eyes.
I leaned forward, the anticipation built up so much that I was near the edge of my seat.
“Now. I haven’t decided yet if I’d like to take you up on this very interesting offer, but I have considered it very thoroughly. And if I do, there will be even more to take into consideration.”
She was a witch. She had to be. Only moments ago, I’d been doubting this arrangement, but now that she was potentially taking it away, I was already starting a mental litany of reasons why she shouldn’t.
Which was stupid. I didn’t really want to do this. No matter how hot she was topping Donovan.
“I’m guessing that everyone in the room is caught up on the situation I’m in?” she went on.
“Yes, everyone here is aware of the predicament you’re in, and of the offer Reach has made you. But don’t worry,” Donovan continued, predicting her unease. “No one here has said anything to anyone else. And of course, anything that’s said in this room will stay in this room.”
“That’s actually the first thing that we need to discuss,” Elizabeth said. “This arrangement would have to be kept fully under wraps. Though it’s headquartered in Europe, you all know Dyson Media is a genuine world empire. I hate to bring numbers and figures into it, but it’s safe to say that my father’s company is well above the net worth of anybody else in this room. Even when we put you all together.”
That comment alone should have killed my boner. It was rather emasculating to be reduced to a relative bank account value.
But instead of being turned off by it, I wanted to pull Elizabeth Dyson across my lap and spank that smug grin off her face. Spank her and then...
“That is safe to say,” Donovan affirmed regarding our net worths, and he was the one who would know. He had the most money of all of us, and I was certainly no pauper. “And we do recognize what is on the line, Elizabeth,” he added. “I promise you that.”
“Yes,” she said, that sly uptick of a smile bordering on condescending. “I’m sure you do. The point is, so does my cousin. Darrell is currently in charge of the Dyson empire and does not want to give up that position before he has to. He’ll do anything he can to prove that any marriage of mine is a false one. If I’m going to get married in an attempt to inherit my company earlier, it has to be a relationship that appears entirely legitimate.
“I can’t run away to Vegas. There can’t be a small ceremony at City Hall. There would have to be a ring of truth to it, which means there will have to be a wedding of somewhat large proportions. The kind that would be expected of a woman of my wealth and stature. As soon as I announce an engagement, Darrell will likely investigate to make sure I was dating that person beforehand. Even though he’s in
Paris, he’ll watch over every step of my engagement. I don’t assume he’ll take anything at face value. To be blunt, my groom will have to be both a convincing choice and invested for the long haul.”
“How many months are you talking about here?” I braced myself, afraid that she was going to say that years were required for this game.
“I don’t want to be ridiculous, as this is a sham relationship. But I do also understand that in order for it to look real, it can’t be quite as much of a whirlwind as we’d prefer. So if we announce the engagement fairly soon… perhaps seven months? Give or take.”
I almost choked. Seven months? Seven months with my ring on someone else’s finger?
I needed a drink.
I stood up and headed over to the bar, pouring myself a gin and tonic. Donovan side-eyed me, but fuck Donovan. It’s not like he was the one going through with it; he was just directing the play, as always.
“Seven months does seem fairly reasonable,” Donovan traitorously agreed. “A wedding in December and then a month or two to finalize your takeover. And I don’t see any reason why annulment couldn’t happen soon after.”
“I think it would need to be a divorce,” Elizabeth said. “Darrell will believe the whole thing was a ruse in the first place. I wouldn’t want him to come back in retrospect and re-take over the company. Or try to appeal the decision.”
“Divorce?” I directed this at Donovan. I had not intended to have a divorce on my record. I drank my gin and tonic in four gulps and then started to make another one.
“Weston, sit down.”
I scowled, cursing under my breath. Donovan was right. This wasn’t a good first impression to make, and for some reason I did want to make a good first impression on Elizabeth Dyson.
I abandoned my drink and slunk back over to the sofa to listen to other people plan my future.
“I know a lot of people who could pull off a spectacular wedding in a short amount of time,” Nate mused. “With our connections we could book a fantastic hotel with a ballroom—”
“I can handle catering with my restaurant,” Donovan offered.
“I’m friends with the Pierce’s, Donovan,” Nate said. “Mirabelle’s has amazing wedding gowns, and I can arrange an appointment. LeeAnn Gregori, the wedding planner, is an acquaintance as well. She can arrange the rest.”
Jesus, it was like I wasn’t even in the room.
“And you are perfectly okay with a pretend relationship lasting that long? There would have to be dates and public outings. We’d have to be seen together. Is that going to be a problem?” Her eyes darted from one of us to the next.
It occurred to me then that Elizabeth didn’t even realize who she was supposed to be addressing, didn’t know who was supposed to be her fiancé.
I could still throw Donovan under the bus if I wanted. If this whole arrangement was so easy to take care of—by them—then it was only fair that one of them should be the nominee.
But, honestly, that wasn’t what I wanted, either. Nate didn’t look right next to her, and the thought of Donovan pretending to be her lover made my gut twist in some weird strange way that I couldn’t understand. Didn’t want to understand.
“Weston?” Donovan asked. “Are those expectations going to be a problem?”
I looked to Elizabeth, watched her features as she realized that I was the suggested candidate and tried to discern if she was disappointed or intrigued.
But her face showed no emotion at all except the lift of one brow.
“Oh,” she said as if it should’ve been obvious. “It’s you.”
Something in that indifferent stare of hers made me want to eat her up. Tear her apart. Find her heart and see what made it beat faster. I didn’t know if it was a sexual attraction or an angry kind of attraction.
At the very least, I needed to stop thinking about zombies while around beautiful women.
But it was more than that; I felt insulted for the second time in as many minutes.
Women didn’t ever toss me aside easily. Women didn’t look at me with an indifferent stare. And they never made me doubt myself. She should be appraising me with her gaze. At least to flatter me, if nothing else. After all, I was the one doing everyone—including her—a favor.
I had never been as competitive as Donovan about anything. Except for winning the hearts of women, but only because I didn’t really have to do very much to try to win them. In Elizabeth Dyson, I was suddenly sensing a challenge, the kind I’d never truly experienced before.
And if she was going to be so stoic about our arrangement, hell yeah, I was into this game. That’s why I was called a player, after all.
“I don’t see a problem with it,” I said, holding her stare.
“Then perhaps this will work out.” She pursed her lips and tapped a finger on them as she considered her next move. “I am surprised you didn’t choose yourself to be the groom, Donovan.”
“We’d never get along,” he scoffed. “And who would be the alpha?”
The two of them laughed, and I did too until I realized that the joke was at my expense.
Instead of growling, the instinctive method of showing off my own alpha skills, I took control with more civilized means—steering the conversation another direction. “And what are you planning to do with the company when you take over, Elizabeth, since Darrell’s the current CEO?”
“Not as CEO, but as an officer. I’ll have to fire Darrell and everyone on the board, since they are all his followers. They were loyal to my father as well. I’ll need a fresh start.”
“Um.” I looked to my fellow businessmen in the room. Was she for real? “You’re going to fire everyone who knows what they’re doing and then lead the company to greatness with a board full of newbies?” I knew she was young, but this was Business 101.
Her confidence wavered; her forehead knit into little wrinkles of concern. “Oh. Good point. I’ll start by hiring just a CEO then, one who can lead them in another direction.”
I couldn’t believe it. She had no plan. No direction.
I was going to stake our company’s future in Europe on this girl? What on earth was Donovan thinking?
I laughed out loud. I couldn’t help it—she was insane. “Do you have someone in mind already for this position?” Finding that kind of talent, someone willing to take over a board of disgruntled officers…? That wasn’t a role I’d want to play.
“Are you laughing at me?” she bristled.
“I’m just saying the idea needs some work. Where did you go to college anyway?” I was curious now. More than curious. I’d found an opening in which to press my advantage, to show her that I wasn’t just an inferior bank account, an interchangeable fake husband. Besides, I would have to know this stuff if we were getting married, right?
“Penn.” She threw her shoulders back, announcing her alma mater proudly.
“And they taught you nothing at the University of Pennsylvania?” I was being a dick. Sometimes that happened. People around me learned to live with it.
“I didn’t major in business,” she said coldly.
“You have your MBA though, right?” Lots of people got their bachelor’s degree in something else before they got a master’s in business.
But Elizabeth shook her head.
Jesus. I was afraid to ask, but now I had to know. “What did you major in?”
“Poli-sci,” she said timidly.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Donovan.” How did he find her? A twenty-five-year-old spoiled little brat, planning to take over the Dyson empire with a political science degree? I couldn’t have laughed harder.
Turned out there was a good reason dear old dad had been keeping the reins of the company from her. She needed to grow up before she even thought about playing with the big boys.
“I’m sorry, honey, but this is ridiculous,” I told her. “We might be able to convince the world, we might be able to convince your cousin. But you will take over that company an
d it will fall apart in five seconds flat. Is that really what you want to put seven months’ worth of fraud into achieving?”
“Weston,” Donovan warned.
“I’m sorry, D. I’m just being honest here.” What a shame—she would have looked so good in a boardroom, too.
“I’m grateful for your honesty, Weston.” Elizabeth shifted to face my partner. “He’s right, Donovan. This won’t work. I don’t need your help after all. I was wrong in thinking that I did.” She stood, and smoothly picked up the purse that she’d dropped on the floor beside her, pulling the strap onto her shoulder as she held her hand out to shake Nate’s.
“It was nice to meet you, Nathan.” She nodded to Donovan, “And good to see you again, Donovan. And you, Mr. King. I’m grateful to have escaped marrying you.” She smiled brightly. “Good afternoon.”
She spun on her heels and that was that. My engagement over and done with before it began.
Which was a good thing, I reminded myself.
The door had barely shut behind her when Donovan roared in my direction. “Weston.”
“I am not wrong here,” I protested. Surely they could see that. “Everything that she’d just laid out is—”
“I don’t care, Weston. She will make this takeover happen with you or without you. With Reach or without Reach. We want to be there when it happens so that we can at least benefit from the fallout. Fix it.” He pointed a long, demanding arm toward the door.
I glanced at Nate, who shrugged, but his expression said that he was firmly on Donovan’s side on this one. Which made sense. I’d been kind of a prick. I looked around the room, but that was it. It was just us, and I’d been given my marching orders.
Yes, there was nothing left to do but suck this one up and fix it.
Four
I hurried out of the lounge so quickly that I got myself turned around in the offices of Reach, Inc. The open floor space brought lots of outside light in and all the glass front offices looked the same. I passed several people sitting at desks who looked up at me as I walked by, but I was so near to tears that I didn’t want any of them to ask if I needed help. I wouldn’t have been able to hold it together.
Dirty Sexy Player Page 3
