Coming to Reason
Book 3: A Long Road to Love
By
Liza O’Connor
Copyright Notice
All rights reserved.
Any reproduction of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying, electronic copying, or recording is forbidden without the written permission of the author.
All characters in this book come from the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names, titles or professions. They are not based on or inspired by any known individual and any resemblance to a person living or dead is purely coincidental.
Blurb
Book 3 of A Long Road to Love series
Carrie has committed to an inter-species engagement with Trent, her billionaire boss. Presently, he is eighty percent dreamboat and twenty percent nightmare. When he fires her so they can become a ‘normal couple’, everything heads south.
Providing her a stark contrast, her new boss, Dan Marshal, is everything a woman could want. But for Carrie, her heart is taken and thus, her path to reason remains long and arduous.
When her relationship with Trent explodes in a shocking fashion, finally her heart gives up and reason takes over. She realizes a brighter future and a better man has been at her side all this time. But can she overcome the obstacles in her path to secure him? Or is Carrie doomed to never know true love?
Warning: If you loved Carrie and Trent as a couple, this book may break your heart.
Liza O'Conner writes books that speak to my soul. Carrie is a character you will not soon forget.
--Rebecca Royce, author of The Warrior series.
I only have one thing to say about Liza O'Connor's A Long Road to Love series: Read them. They're funny. You won't regret it!
--Maria Hammarblad, author of Kidnapped.
Note from Author
I stubbornly use British logical punctuation instead of US illogical punctuation when it comes to commas and periods next to dialog tags. The U.S. rule was created before the revolution, in times of shoddy printing presses, and it’s time Americans revolt and throw it out. (We threw out the presses long ago. I’ve not idea why we cling to the silly rule.)
An example of British logic: He called it a “whirly bird”. (Note the period is after the dialog tag.) Illogical US punctuation would have it: He called it a “whirly bird.” That is not logical. The tags are highlighting a specific item in the sentence, while the period is for the entire sentence. Now the whirly bird has captured the period and will no doubt feed it to its babies. That is if whirly birds have babies.
But this goes beyond whirly birds. This goes to national and personal self-esteem. It is time we drop this silly rule. How can we ever gain international respect when we punctuate so foolishly?
Table of Content
Copyright Notice
Blurb
Note from Author
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 1
Carrie Hanson woke to the loving caresses of her boss and boyfriend, Trent Lancaster. She smiled as he rolled on top of her and dwarfed her petite four-foot-six body. God, she loved the man he’d become.
He possessed many admirable traits now: strong, thoughtful, a wonderful sense of humor, caring, and smart. Unfortunately, he had a couple of qualities she outright wished he didn’t. Due to his terrible upbringing, Trent would erupt into temperamental outbursts over the stupidest problems. Worse yet, he was a billionaire; a six-foot-tall, blue-eyed, dark-haired, handsome bachelor of society. Wolves could have done a better job raising him than his horrid, but thankfully dead, parents.
His eyes sparkled with love as he tugged off her teddy and perused her body. She breathed in at the warmth of his hand. His touch always set her skin on fire.
“Let’s skip work today.”
With a soft chuckle, she corrected him, “It’s Sunday.”
His eyes rounded for a moment. “I love Sundays.” He captured her hands and moved them to the ornate metal of the headboard, curling her fingers around the bars.
“I love you,” he added and kissed her with hungry passion, while his hands caressed her breasts.
A haze of nirvana enveloped her for a blissful moment, then a jarring ring pulled her from heaven. Releasing the headboard, she slapped the black radio alarm by her bedside, determined to quiet it before it ruined the mood. Unfortunately, the ringing continued.
“No!” she yelped when Trent rolled to the side and climbed off the bed. He reached for his pants on the floor and extracted his phone.
“Trent.”
Whoever called had him scurrying to the bathroom so he could talk in private. Carrie hoped a friend didn’t need money. His moments of generosity never worked out well.
She glared at the closed door. Who calls at six in the morning on a Sunday? She sat up, grabbed her teddy, and put it on. They had been so close to having morning sex, something she greatly liked since it put her in a good mood the entire day. However, she’d just discovered interrupted, no morning sex, made her disgruntled and grumpy.
She pushed out of bed and followed him to the bathroom, only he’d locked her out. His action surprised her. He rarely even bothered closing the door, never mind locking it.
Curious, she pressed her ear against the balsa wood. His low, refined voice came through loud and clear.
“Got to go. I’ll be in soon.”
A second later, he opened the door and pulled her into his arms. “Missed me?” He captured her mouth with his.
She pushed away from his kiss, knowing if he planned to see someone soon, he’d booted morning sex to the curb. “Don’t heat me up if you don’t plan to finish what you start.”
He let her go and stared at her with concern as she sat down on the edge of the tub. “Has something upset you?” he asked.
“No…yes…I… Who were you talking to?
He finished brushing his hair and disappeared back into the bedroom without responding, which annoyed her even further.
By the time she followed him out, he’d dressed in what she called ‘casual rich’—high quality light wool pants and a tailored white silk shirt.
“So I’m guessing we aren’t going hiking?” she grumbled, pissed he’d yet to tell her who had called.
“Sorry. Can you take all my clothes in your closet to the cleaners?”
“Would you like me to polish your shoes, as well?”
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. His delicious cologne melted away her grumpiness and turned her into pudding. “I’ll pay you back for the cleaner’s bill.”
He would, too. A month later, but he’d throw some outrageous ‘interest’ on the money, making the chore quite profitable. He hated she had to watch her money and stay to a budget. So, whenever he could contrive a situation, he’d throw her extra money.
“Your clothes are fine. They don’t need to visit the cleaners.”
He kissed her neck. “Actually, they do. They smell musty. Sure you won’t let me buy you central air?”
“I like open windows and fresh air.”
He released her, and sat on the bed as he tied his beautiful Italian shoes, custom-made for his precious feet.
She sat beside him. “So, where are you going, and when will you return?”
“I’m going in to work and I’ll be back by dinner.”
“What’s wrong at work?”
He paused. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
“I’m your EA! If it concerns you, it concerns me”
He breathed in and released a heavy stream of air while staring at the carpet between his feet.
“I’m going in, too.” Carrie retrieved a pair of jeans, but before she could put them on, he grabbed and tossed the pants onto a wooden rocking chair. He then pulled her to the bed beside him.
“I need to handle this by myself.”
“Why?”
He stared up at the ceiling. “Because it’s my company. When there’s a problem, I need to fix it.”
Before she could formulate a counter argument, he placed two fingers over her lips, silencing her. “Three months ago, you warned me someday you’d need to leave Lancaster Chairs.”
She had suggested it might be necessary, given the horrible rages he’d throw without warning or cause. Both times, the triggers had been business issues. She pressed her hand upon his leg, worried where the line of thought headed. “But you’re well now. You’ve become the perfect boss.”
He gripped her hand and touched the massive engagement ring on her finger. He had surprised her with the family heirloom two months ago. She’d still feared his temper, so she’d asked for a long engagement. Honestly, they came from such different worlds, sometimes they seemed like different species.
Thinking he played with her ring to remind her of the doubts she had, she pressed her head against his arm. “You’ve improved beyond my wildest imagination. You’re as close to the perfect man as I could ask for. If you want to set a date—”
“No,” he said without hesitation.
She frowned, wondering what his change of mind meant. Two months ago, he’d wanted to marry her at once.
Cupping her face, he stared into her eyes. “You had every reason to delay the wedding. I was a basket case back then, and while I agree I’m now better, I’m not yet good enough for you.”
The cloud of worry lifted, and her heart swelled with love. “Shouldn’t I decide?”
He shook his head. “I’m still growing up from the petulant child I’ve been all my life.” He exhaled and met her gaze. “To continue my progress, I need your assistance.”
She marveled at his newly acquired ability to admit weaknesses. “Anything,” she promised.
Leaning in, he kissed her forehead. “My therapist believes your desire to be the world’s best EA and my girlfriend is hampering my attempts to grow up. You take care of all my problems. He says I need to handle matters for myself.”
Fear spread from her chest out to her fingertips, making her numb, slowing her brain. “Are you saying you want to break up with me?”
“Never!” He covered her face with kisses.
She pushed him away. “Then what?”
“It’s time to do what we talked about months ago. You need to quit Lancaster Chairs and get another job.”
Was he insane? He couldn’t survive two hours without her. “We should do this slowly, so you can wean off.”
He smiled. “Michael disagrees.”
She’d always liked his therapist, until now. “Maybe I should talk to him.”
“No! You’ll only prove to him I’ve made no progress at all.” He gripped her hands. “I need to stand on my own two feet. You have to let me grow up and take responsibility for myself.”
“All right.” Her stomach roiled with doubt. He’d be calling her back in a week to help save his company again.
Still, growing up meant he’d make mistakes along the way. She had to let him take the reins, even if doing so had disaster written all over it. “I’ll start looking on my lunch hour.”
“No. We need a clean cut. As of now, you no longer work at Lancaster Chairs.”
“Trent! We have to have a transition. We’ll need to find a new EA. I’ll need to train the person in.”
He pressed his fingers to her lips. “I completed the interviews and I’m going in to train my EA. I’ve got it all under control.”
His assurance stunned her. He must have planned this for weeks, perhaps months, but never said a word, which hurt her feelings. Still, she sucked it up and tried to focus on the positive. Trent wanted to grow up and take responsibility. “I should still come in and show the person…guy or girl?”
The question made him choke. “Are you kidding? After Grant? No way in hell I’d hire another male.”
She understood his aversion. Grant, their temporary EA while she received training as a Change Specialist, had proven most Machiavellian. Trent, no doubt, would feel safer with a woman. “I still need to show her where things are.”
“As organized as you are? If she can’t find everything on the first try, I’ll fire her. However, she will need your password.”
Carrie frowned. No way would she share that.
With a gentle hand on her back, he spoke. “Carrie, this is business, not personal.”
“I’ll go into the system and change the password to ‘NewHire’.”
He shook his head. “It won’t work. Jack has blocked your access.”
Had he slapped her, she wouldn’t have felt the blow harder. “When?”
“Once we left on Friday.”
Now she understood why he’d insisted upon leaving at four.
His hand grazed her cheek with tenderness. “Carrie, don’t make me out to be the bad guy. I’m trying to be a man you can love.”
She pressed herself against his hard chest. “I already love you.”
“All right, then I need to be the man I can love. He eased her back and stood up. “Password for your computer?”
“You’re taking my computer?”
“It’s company property, and I’m pretty sure the new EA will need the information on it.”
She nodded. If the girl had any hope of surviving the week, she would. “My password is one, L, zero, V, E, T, R, E, N, T.”
He typed it in his blackberry and smiled. “I Love Trent. Cute.”
Cute? Had he grown up so fast he now saw her as a kid in comparison. “I’ll go get my laptop for you.”
“Not necessary. Sam had instructions to find and retrieve it.”
And yet another blow. He had his driver sneak into her house and steal her computer? “Trent, do you no longer trust me? Are we breaking up?”
He knelt down in front of her. “No! Although I feared you might strike out in anger. I know how much you love my company—probably as much as my prior girlfriends have loved my money. My experience has taught me to expect a she-devil drawing blood when a woman is parted from what she loves most.” His sad eyes met hers. “I’m hoping I’m what you love most—not Lancaster Chairs.”
She cupped his face, now understanding what motivated his horrible behavior. Trent still feared she didn’t love him.
“You are.”
As if a heavy cloud had dissipated, he smiled and lifted her into his arms. “God, I love you. And don’t worry about money. I’ll take care of you, pay all your bills.”
“I’d rather receive a two month severance package and pay them myself. It’s standard business procedure.”
He covered her face with kisses. “You’ve got it, but I’ve one favor to ask in return.”
She scowled. Her severance should not depend upon favors. “What?”
“Don’t take a job with Ian.”
His request calmed her fears. She’d worried, despite his assurances to the contrary, he wanted to break up with her. His determination to keep her from Ian said otherwise. Ian Goodman, Trent’s ‘frenemy’, had taught her to be a world-class Change Specialist. He’d also spent the whole two weeks trying to seduce her, which she’d shared with Trent
once she’d returned to the East Coast.
“Why would I take a job on the West Coast? I would hate the commute,” she teased.
“But he did offer you a job, right?” Trent challenged.
He had, but the offer would not activate until she and Trent broke up. Since they had not broken up, but had only become a normal couple where each worked at a different company, his offer hadn’t activated.
“I promise you. I will not work for Ian.”
Trent kissed her with intense hunger. For self-preservation, she pushed him away. “Don’t get me worked up if you aren’t going to follow through.”
Carrie donned a robe and walked him to the front door and waved good-bye as Sam drove “Master Trent” away from her middle-class, suburban home.
Her need to plan sent her to her personal computer. Thank God, Sam knew the laptop belonged to her and not his company. She would have been devastated if he’d taken it, too.
Sitting down in her top-of-the-line Lancaster Chair, Carrie typed out a list of things she needed to do today to prepare for tomorrow. After powering up, she typed take T’s clothes to cleaners but then erased it. Since Trent wanted to grow up and do things for himself, she’d leave it for him. She had a résumé to write.
But first, she needed to research the matter. She had never written one before. The day she graduated from college, she’d wandered by Lancaster Chairs, noticed a handwritten sign on the glass door stating an opening for an executive assistant, and interviewed for the job.
Trent hired her solely on her promise she’d show up on time and work. This time, she doubted finding a job would be half so easy.
In fact, she expected the next few months to be most worrisome.
Chapter 2
Monday morning, Carrie stood outside Dan Marshal’s resource firm, wearing her best blue suit. She’d arrived early, knowing Dan kept to a tight schedule. She smiled as his car pulled to the curb.
Dan let himself out of the limo, something Trent still wouldn’t do, and headed to the office door. His brow remained furrowed until his gaze settled on her, then a smile brightened his handsome face.
Coming To Reason (A Long Road to Love) Page 1
