by Marie Carnay
Nicky brushed him off. “This is low, even for the pair of you. Do you really think my shareholders will be swayed by what some two-bit hussy with a nice rack has to say about you?”
Rage shot through Jess like a rocket. The son of a bitch. She didn’t care whether it ruined the assignment, what Gage or Holt thought of her, nothing.
Nikolas Gordon could be the damn Mayor of New York and it wouldn’t have stopped her.
Jess stormed up and stuck her index finger smack in the middle of his garish tie. “I. Am. Not. A. Hussy.” With every word, she needled him harder. “Apologize.”
“No.” He brushed her fingers away like crumbs. “Go sit down and pretend to take notes. Let the big boys talk business.”
That’s it! Her mouth contorted, her left hand found her hip, and her other flew out in unbridled rage. The smack across the jerk’s face echoed louder than his boorish voice.
The instant she hit him, his eyes went wide and he lunged. She darted out of the way. Martial arts training had its advantages.
He reached for her, but she dodged. “You bitch! I’m gonna kill you for that.” A red palm-mark rose on his cheek where she’d struck him, and for a moment, Jess wondered if the MacIntosh brothers would come to her rescue.
It didn’t matter. She could take the guy, even in heels.
Gage’s voice cut through the tension. “You lay a finger on her, Gordon, and I’ll have your ass thrown in jail.”
He paused. “Are you threatening me?”
“No. I’m telling you the consequences of your actions.”
“She hit me first.” He took another step toward her. Jess dodged.
“None of that will matter to the cops or a judge. Is this what you want your shareholders to read in the morning edition?”
Holt spoke up in a newscaster’s voice. “Nicky Gordon, president of MacIntosh Hotels, decks female reporter inside restaurant. Not the type of headline I’d be hoping for if I were trying to fend off a hostile takeover.”
Jess blinked. He owned MacIntosh Hotels? It didn’t make any sense.
Dread washed over her. She had smacked the competition.
Nicky straightened his jacket and smoothed down his tie. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear this whole thing was a setup.”
“We didn’t invite you, Nicky. You did that all on your own.”
He pointed at Jess. “I won’t forget this.”
She knew she should be quiet, but the retort burst from her lips before she could stop it. “Looks like your face won’t either.”
"Enough!” Gage’s harsh whisper cut through her rage and she stepped back.
“That’s right, MacIntosh. You keep her in line.”
“Get out of here, Nicky.”
“My pleasure.” In a moment, the jerk was out of sight.
Jess closed her eyes in relief. “Thank God that’s over.”
Fingers wrapped around her arm and Jess blinked in surprise. Gage yanked her toward him. “It’s not over. Not even close.”
His brown eyes simmered. Jess had never borne the brunt of so much anger.
She clutched at his fingers, but his grip was too tight. “Get your hands off me.” He tugged her toward the stairs and she stumbled after him. “You’re hurting me.”
“Good.” He didn’t even look at her as he dragged her along behind. She tripped down every stair, her feet tangled up in her heels as they rushed out of the restaurant.
A waiter met them at the bottom. “Is everything all right, sir?”
“Get my driver. Now.”
Chapter 9
GAGE
Damien opened the limo’s back door and Gage tossed Jess inside.
She bounced onto the seat. Hair flying everywhere, arms flailing, she shrieked as he climbed inside.
Serves you right.
Gage slammed the limo door and hit the button to raise the glass. Damien knew where to go and what the privacy glass meant. At least his driver followed the rules. Wish he could say the same for the woman scrambling to get away. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
“Pissed you off, apparently.” She tugged the dress down her thighs but couldn’t hide the tremble in her hands.
“What is your assignment, Ms. Woodson?”
She smoothed back her hair and scowled. Gage’s temper flared anew. No one refused to answer his questions. No. One.
Launching across the limo, he caged her against the seat with his sheer size. “I asked you a question.”
The black of her pupils swelled, turning her blue irises into a shallow ring. “Not politely, you didn’t.”
Gage grabbed both her arms and tugged them over her head. Jess squirmed and twisted and tried to fight him off. She didn’t have a chance. With one hand, he pinned her wrists high enough to be uncomfortable.
“What is your assignment?”
She stared at him with a curious expression. The scowl said rage, wide eyes hid fear, parted lips screamed lust. Need.
Gage inched closer, forcing her knees to spread apart. He shouldn’t want her like this. Ever.
Her tongue darted out to wet her lower lip. His fingers tightened around her wrists.
“I’m here to write a piece on you and Holt for NNT.”
“Are you here to slap the president of the company we're trying to acquire?”
“No.”
“Are you here to splash us all over the front page of the tabloids and cause the deal to fall apart?”
Jess gasped and the word tumbled from her still-slick pout. “No.”
“Then tell me why you didn’t just stay quiet.”
She didn’t answer, so Gage edged closer until her legs fell all the way open. Bare skin. Trembling legs. Jess's knees grazed his hips as he leaned in, her mouth close enough to kiss. Bright pink and luscious, her lips beckoned him to taste. Ravage.
He focused on her eyes. “I want to hear you say it.”
Color flared across her cheeks. “Gordon called me a prostitute. It was insulting.”
“Do you slap everyone who insults you?”
“The ones who deserve it.”
“What happened to not being the center of attention?”
“That doesn’t mean I’m a pushover. Once you let someone treat you like a doormat that’s all you ever are.”
Gage’s stare fell to the swells of her breasts peeking out from the top of her dress. His grin wasn’t apologetic. “Nicky was right about one thing. You do have a great rack.”
Her arms flexed in his grip, but she was helpless. However strong she thought she was, it wasn’t a match to him in that moment.
“You’re an asshole.”
“I’ve been called worse. Lately by Nicky Gordon.”
Jess stilled. “Is what he said true? Did you buy NNT just for the good publicity?”
Shit. Gage let her arms go. They fell limp to her sides as she focused on him, curiosity and hurt warring behind thick lashes.
He pushed back onto the opposite seat and exhaled. Now that the woman was under his skin, admitting the truth seemed so tawdry. It was the last thing he wanted.
Jessica Woodson deserved better.
“You’ll think we’re only out for ourselves.”
She rubbed at her wrists. “Aren’t you?”
“No.”
“Then tell me what’s really going on. Why buy the network? Why demand coverage of your lives now? What are you after?”
Gage mulled it over. If he spared her the details, she’d still learn the truth sometime. Better for her to find out from him and not some jackass like Nicky Gordon.
He scooted forward in the seat and rested his forearms on his knees.
“First, we bought NNT because it was a good investment.”
“All right.”
“Second, we do need positive publicity.”
“I’m listening.”
“Third…” Gage paused. Fuck. He twisted his father’s ring around his finger. “MacIntosh Hotels was our father�
��s company. It’s where he got his start and earned the family fortune. As you found out tonight, the current president isn’t exactly receptive.”
“Nicky.”
Gage nodded. “He’s convinced the board to reject any proposal we throw their way. So now we’re trying a hostile takeover. The board of directors can be circumvented if we secure enough shareholder approval of the buyout price.”
She shook her head. “I don’t understand. Doesn't Nicky own the company?”
“Minority owner. Only forty-eight percent. If the other shareholders agree to sell, we can take the company back without his approval. He’ll have no choice.”
“That’s legal?”
“Of course.”
Jess chewed on her lip and glanced up at the ceiling of the limo, trying to work it all out.
“We’re not bad guys, Ms. Woodson. Our reputations aren’t entirely deserved.”
“And you'd like me to show the whole world you deserve to buy the company back.”
“We want to restore the MacIntosh name. Make the hotel chain good again. Worth something. Our father’s legacy should mean more than discount fares and thin towels.”
“Why not just hire someone to write a puff piece? Why pick me?”
Gage waited until she looked him in the eye. “Because, Ms. Woodson, whatever you write has to be the truth.”
He never should have touched her. If it weren’t for those plump lips begging to be kissed… Or those hips that cried out for a man’s hands… Or the way she stood up to Nicky like she had a spine made of steel…
Putting all their eggs in her basket was a horrible gamble. But it was too late. Gage trusted her. Jess needed to trust him, too.
They stared at each other as the limo barreled down the road. As the back wheel bumped over a pothole, her face broke into a smile. “Please, call me Jess.”
JESS
Gage MacIntosh was a conundrum. Part asshole billionaire, part seemingly nice guy with a penchant for honesty. Jess didn’t know what to make of him.
When he’d pinned her to the seat, her heart kicked into overdrive. Thump-thump, thump-thump. Faster and faster the harder his thumb dug into her wrist. For a moment, she’d hoped he would kiss her.
Didn’t billionaires have a thing for limos? She rolled her eyes at herself and turned to the window. New York City whooshed by in sparkling lights and shop windows.
It didn’t matter how sinful Gage MacIntosh tasted. No good would come from fantasizing. She’d been given an assignment. Harvey depended on her. Hell, Gage was her ultimate boss now that the brothers owned the network.
Wendy would say, Go for it, what do you have to lose?
Only everything.
Jess needed to focus on the job, not her starved libido. Crossing and re-crossing her legs, she tried to concentrate on anything but his commanding presence across the back seat. Prim and proper—that's how she should act—not like some starstruck damsel in distress.
After a few deep breaths, she turned back to Gage. “Tell me about your father. Why is his legacy so important to you?”
He ran his fingers over his eyebrows, pausing to give his temples a squeeze. He was uncomfortable speaking about his father. She understood that.
After a moment, he answered. “My father started out with nothing. His father worked in a factory his whole life, putting the bristles in toothbrushes. Can you imagine? Ten hours a day, five days a week, pulling a lever at an assembly line station. He toiled at that job for fifty years.”
She wasn’t a stranger to the tough life. “My father was a janitor. I’m familiar with blue-collar work, Gage.”
“Good. Then you know how hard my father struggled to succeed.” Gage ran his finger over the gold cufflink peeking out from his suit jacket. “He worked his way through college. Deliveries, night shifts, you name it, he did it. By graduation, he’d socked away enough money to buy his first property.”
“A hotel?”
Gage’s laugh poured from his lips like aged bourbon, rich and smooth. “No. A piece-of-shit warehouse in Newark. But he fixed it up, sold it for a profit, and did it again.”
“By the time I came along, he’d opened the first MacIntosh Hotel. Fifteen rooms, full service, just across the East River in an up-and-coming part of Brooklyn.”
Jess heard the admiration in Gage’s voice. He thought the world of his father. “So you saw his struggle. How hard he worked to become a success.”
He nodded. “Firsthand. I worked the Hotel as a bell hop, room service, then the front desk. I helped him open the second and the third. His tenth hotel opened on my eighteenth birthday. He even let me pick out the furniture.”
“Does Holt have the same sense of gratitude and wonder?”
Gage stiffened. Damn. She didn’t mean to hit a sore spot.
“He’s three years younger than me. Once he was old enough to help…” Gage’s brows scrunched and he focused on the seat instead of Jess’s face. “He never had to earn the MacIntosh name. Let’s leave it at that.”
Interesting. She sensed the tension running through them when they were… whatever it was. The competition the two must have felt. The inequity.
“Yet you still run the business with him.”
“Of course. He’s a MacIntosh.”
“So family trumps everything?”
“Shouldn’t it?”
Jess glanced out the window. “Not everyone is so loyal, Gage.”
The car slowed and pulled into the drive of a high-rise across from what had to be Central Park. Jess had been turned around from the moment the plane had touched down. She’d only been in New York once and she couldn’t tell Brooklyn from the Bronx. But this even this she placed.
Billionaires lived on Central Park. Men like Gage and Holt.
“Everything all right?”
Gage’s voice barely registered, but she managed a nod. Alone in a private booth, with only their voices and hands and lips, she could forget about the worlds between them.
A bellhop in black pants and matching jacket opened the limo door. Even his buttons were gold. “Miss? Can I help you out?”
“No, I’m fine on my own.” She clambered out and stood up. Red carpet led up to the gilded front entrance. The place screamed opulence and luxury. Money.
Jess glanced at the tree line. How many buildings fronted the Park, anyway? She made a mental note to research it later.
Gage stepped out behind her. “Welcome to the Winchester. What do you think?”
“I should have splurged on better shoes.”
“Your shoes are fine. It’s this way.” Gage bypassed the main entrance and headed for a discreet door tucked into the corner of the building.
For a second, Jess panicked. Dark corners of the city weren’t places she expected to go. “You’re not secretly a serial killer, are you?”
“No, why?” Gage stepped up to a security panel in the wall and stuck his thumb on the pad. The door swung open.
Oh. “No reason.”
He ushered her into a lobby and the door shut behind them. “We own the building. When we renovated it, we had our own lobby built in. It leads directly to the top floor.”
“Is this where you live?”
“When we’re in New York, yes.” He hit the elevator button and the doors opened. “Ladies first.”
Chapter 10
HOLT
Damn Gage's overreacting. Holt paced the living room, sipping vodka and fuming.
His brother had no right to treat Jess like some employee to reprimand and send scuttling away. The woman might have an assignment to complete, but that didn’t preclude some naughty extracurriculars.
Gage had always been too cautious and too damn risk-averse.
Not Holt.
His brother liked to think of himself as the Mr. MacIntosh—the sole source of success post-inheritance. But Holt played a prominent role, too, whether Gage admitted it or not.
The weakness in MacIntosh Hotels caught Holt’s eye f
irst. If it hadn’t been for him, they would never be attempting to buy the corporation back.
His drink slid down his throat and he stalked to the bar to refill the glass. The minute Gage had approached Gordon about the potential for a buyout, things went to shit.
Nothing Gordon overheard or saw that night would have lowered his opinion of them. He already hated their guts. Ripping a company out from under a man didn’t spread goodwill.
There were some things not even billions could buy.
As he gulped another mouthful of vodka, the chime of the elevator rang through the apartment. Holt steeled himself. Gage must have taken the long way home.
Gage strode into the room, all determination and focus. If he’d taken advantage of Jess in the limo, it wasn’t out of love. “I’ve got some calls to make. You can show Jess around, right?”
Holt glanced at Jess as she entered the room. Flushed cheeks, downcast eyes. Body he still wanted to stroke all night. Based on her body language, his brother beat him to it.
“Of course.”
Gage disappeared down the hall with no more than a nod at Jess. Interesting.
She stood on the edge of the carpet, motionless as she stared at the empty space where his brother had been. The asshole. Always striving to be first. Never caring about the damage left behind.
Screw that. Holt was more of a gentleman than Gage ever hoped to be. He closed the gap between them before Jess even looked around the room.
From the strumming of her fingers across her arm to the way the tops of her brows creased in concentration, it was obvious. Gage had pissed her off. I can work with that.
“If my brother disrespected you, I apologize.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re mad.”
Her gaze snapped to his face. Those bright blue eyes were laced with confusion and something more. “I’m just trying to figure you both out.”
Good. He flashed a smile. “Can I get you a drink? Vodka, right?”
Jess nodded and slipped her heels off before walking across the carpet to the couch. She perched on the edge, knees together, hands in her lap. Holt poured the drink and sat beside her.
