True Colours (The You Don't Know Me Trilogy Book 2)

by Mandy Lee

  Back off, shit head. I’m onto it. X

  ‘Just not in the way you think I am,’ I muse out loud.

  Suddenly, alongside feeling utterly flustered, I’m also feeling utterly determined to give the big kahuna a piece of my mind. Ignoring the calls from my mobile, I clean up in the bathroom and return to the wardrobe for a change of clothes. My T-shirt’s already spattered with paint and I’d like to look half-way respectable for what I’m about to do. Opening up one drawer after another, I gasp and growl and curse. Somehow, within the space of the last couple of hours, every last scrap of my messiness seems to have been eradicated. In its place, T-shirts are neatly folded in one drawer, knickers rolled up in a second, bras arranged in third. Swapping the ruined T-shirt for a clean one and shoving my mobile into my pocket, I skitter downstairs to find Geena busy in the kitchen, cleaning out cupboards that already seem to be perfectly clean. She turns and smiles.

  ‘Off out?’ she asks.

  ‘Yes.’ I pause, grabbing my keys, not entirely sure how I’m going to broach the subject. ‘Did you … Did you tidy my wardrobe?’

  The smile widens.

  ‘Yes. Mr Foster told me to do it.’

  ‘He did?’

  She nods and I sense the first stirrings of anger in my gut, but I’m not going to take it out on Geena. My target is a mile or so down the south bank. He’s gone too far again … and I’m going to tell him, right to his face.

  ‘I didn’t do the boxes. But he said I should sort out your clothes.’

  And he should have consulted me, I’d like to add.

  ‘Thank you.’ I force the most natural-looking smile I can muster. ‘I appreciate it. I’ll see you later, Geena.’

  Passport in hand, I slam the front door behind me, and come to a sudden halt. Rising to his feet like a Titan, I’m greeted by Spencer.

  ‘I’m going for a walk. I suppose you’ll be accompanying me?’

  ‘Of course.’

  He follows me into the lift, out of the lift, through the lobby and onto the forecourt. I cross the road and begin to make my way down the south embankment. Picking up the pace past Lambeth Palace, I’m half running as I take the walkway under Westminster Bridge, threading a path through the crowds at the aquarium and the Eye. By the time I get to the Jubilee Gardens, I slow down again, checking to see if my bodyguard’s still behind me … and of course he is. After all, he’s an unstoppable machine. When I finally come to Gabriel’s Wharf, I pause, leaning against the wall and taking in the view across the Thames.

  And then I feel my mobile vibrate. Taking it out, I’m greeted by yet another message from Dan.

  Nice walk? Xxxx

  The hairs on the back of my neck prickle. Thrusting the mobile back into my pocket, I beckon the Terminator to join me. It’s a foregone conclusion that he’s been texting Dan, and I’m going to make sure it doesn’t happen again.

  ‘Can I use your phone?’ I ask. ‘Mine’s out of battery.’

  His mouth opens.

  ‘It’s just that I really need to make a call.’

  He eyes me suspiciously, before fishing out a mobile and handing it to me.

  ‘This is nice,’ I remark. ‘Is it your own?’

  ‘It’s a work phone.’

  ‘And it’s the phone you’re using to contact Mr Foster?’

  Guilt sweeps across his face. Ah ha! Gotcha! In a flash, I reach out and drop the phone into the river.

  ‘What the …’

  ‘Whoops.’ I smile. ‘Butter fingers. Sorry about that. I’ll make sure Mr Foster reimburses the company.’

  ‘But …’

  I continue to walk, and if the Terminator wants to follow me, that’s fine. At least, he won’t be able to forewarn the control freak of my imminent ambush. It doesn’t take long for me to reach the headquarters of Fosters Construction. As soon as I’m through the main door, I stride purposefully towards the lifts, determined that nobody’s going to stop me.

  ‘I’ll be five minutes,’ I tell Spencer. ‘Up and down. Wait here.’

  He shakes his head.

  ‘Five minutes. Where on Earth am I going to go?’

  He shakes his head again and I make my decision. I really don’t want to be a complete shit, but considering the current situation, it seems to be the only option.

  ‘If you don’t stay here,’ I hiss, ‘I’ll have you sacked.’

  His chin tightens.

  ‘Five minutes,’ I repeat, thoroughly surprised when he finally agrees.

  Leaving him to sweat it out in the lobby, I step into the next car, impatiently tapping the passport against my thigh as the lift stops at one floor after another, swallowing up employees and then coughing them out again. Deciding that I don’t have time to visit Norman, I give the fourteenth floor a miss, waiting until the doors slide open onto the fifteenth floor reception area. With a deep breath, I stride forwards across the marble floor, stopping at the glass desk where Carla’s busy staring at her computer monitor. As soon as she sees me, she stands.

  ‘Miss Scotton.’ She smiles.

  I slide the passport onto the desk.

  ‘There you go.’ I smile back.

  Enough said. Before she can stop me, I’m on the move again, pushing open the oak door and barging straight into Dan’s office. Standing by his desk, he’s talking on the phone, and I waver for a moment, thrown off course by how ruddy fuckable he looks. He’s jacketless now, and that waistcoat really accentuates his trim hips. ‘No, no, no!’ a voice screeches from the back of my head. ‘Don’t get waylaid by all that sex stuff.’

  Putting down the receiver, he opens his mouth to speak but I get in there first.

  ‘I’ve had enough!’ I announce.

  ‘Enough of what?’

  ‘Enough of you, you controlling twat!’

  He casts an anxious glance at something behind me.

  ‘I’ve had enough of you organising my bloody life for me,’ I go on, determined to get it all out. ‘If I want messy drawers, then I’ll have messy drawers. And I’ve handed over my bloody passport, so you can stop nagging me about that. And just for the record, I don’t want to go on a bloody plane. Let’s just make that perfectly bloody clear. And while I’m about it, I’ve had enough of you snooping on me and you are snooping on me.’ I point at him for good measure. ‘And I’ve had enough of that big bastard following me around everywhere I go.’ I gesticulate at the open doorway, noticing that Carla’s standing in it now, looking distinctly worried. ‘If I’ve got to have a bloody bodyguard, I want Beefy back! At least he’s human.’

  Hearing a cough, I stop mid-flow. That was a man’s cough, and it certainly didn’t come out of Dan’s mouth. He’s staring straight past me again, his lips set into a half-smile … almost apologetic. With a building sense of dread, I pivot slowly, following the direction of his gaze, only to find several suited types sitting around the table, including Clive and at least four Chinese men. The blood runs cold in my veins. A wave of nausea bubbles through my stomach. I feel a hand at the small of my back.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Mr Sun,’ Dan says.

  The eldest of the Chinese men rises to his feet.

  ‘This is Mr Sun, Maya. He’s an important client. We’re just putting the finishing touches to a three point two billion pound deal.’

  I hear the words slip out of my mouth. ‘Oh shit.’

  Mr Sun approaches me.

  ‘And you are?’ he asks in a perfect English accent.

  ‘Maya Scotton,’ Dan interrupts. ‘My fiancée.’

  Suddenly forgetting the fact that I’ve just stormed right into the middle of a meeting, I swivel round to face Dan.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘The future Mrs Foster,’ he continues. Smiling fondly, he slides a hand around my waist and touches me gently on the end of my nose. I shake my head away. ‘She’s a little irritated with me right now – for various reasons – but on a good day I can assure you that she’s the most delightful young woman you’re ever lik
ely to meet. She’s an artist.’

  ‘Is she now?’ Mr Sun asks. A wrinkled hand is thrust towards me. ‘Pleased to meet you, Maya Scotton.’ His eyes crease into a smile. ‘And congratulations. When is the happy day?’

  ‘There isn’t one,’ I answer quickly.

  I’m about to ask Dan what the hell he thinks he’s playing at when he intervenes again.

  ‘What she means is that we haven’t set the date yet, but I’d say before Christmas.’

  ‘What?’ My mouth is wide open now. ‘What are you going on about?’

  He doesn’t answer. Instead, he begins to manoeuvre me towards the door.

  ‘I’ll just escort her out.’

  ‘Excuse me? Marriage?’ I turn back to Mr Sun, deciding that this is the moment to put a spanner in the works. ‘He hasn’t even told me he loves me yet.’

  I spot a hint of surprise in Mr Sun’s eyes.

  ‘Oh no. That is a bloody bad show,’ he laughs. ‘That’s simply not cricket.’

  And now it’s Dan’s turn to stare open-mouthed at Mr Sun.

  ‘They’re a basic requirement of a good marriage, Dan.’ Mr Sun crosses his arms. ‘Those three little words. I tell my wife I love her every day.’ Uncrossing his arms, Mr Sun presses on. ‘If I were you, I’d tell her now. Go on. We’ve covered the basics. I can talk to Clive a little more about the details.’

  Clearing his throat, Dan looks at me, and if I’m not very much mistaken there’s a hint of a threat in that look. ‘If you don’t mind, I’ll be a few minutes.’

  ‘Of course I don’t mind.’ Mr Sun smiles. ‘You must keep your fiancée happy.’

  ‘I’m not his ...’

  I catch a glimpse of Clive. He’s grinning from ear to ear. Before I can squeeze out the final word, my hand is grasped and I’m dragged out of the office.

  ‘More coffee in there, Carla,’ Dan barks, hauling me to the lift and punching the call button. He tugs me in, letting go of my hand as the doors slide to a close.

  ‘Fiancée?’ I spit. ‘Where did that come from?’

  He hits another button. The lift judders to a halt.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. A mad fiancée seemed to be slightly less embarrassing than a mad girlfriend.’

  ‘What are you doing?’

  He says nothing. Instead, he simply takes out his mobile and calls up a contact. I hear a muffled voice at the other end of the line.

  ‘Dave, lift number two is out of action. Leave it that way.’

  He ends the call, immediately making another. Glaring at me, he listens to the dialling tone.

  ‘Where’s your bodyguard?’ he demands. ‘He’s not answering his phone.’

  ‘That’s because I threw it in the river.’

  He frowns.

  ‘To stop you snooping on me,’ I explain.

  He opens his mouth.

  ‘But don’t worry. He’s down in the lobby.’

  ‘You are a fucking piece of work, Maya.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  He drops the mobile back into his pocket and glares at me some more.

  ‘You’re angry with me again,’ I venture.

  ‘No shit.’

  Taking a step forwards, he rams me against the wall, grabs my hands and pins them back.

  ‘Now let’s get a few things straight here.’

  I’m expecting a good talking to, but that’s not what I get. Instead, he covers my lips with his, and kisses me for an age.

  ‘You have a bodyguard for a reason,’ he growls when he’s done. ‘I’m not going over that again.’

  ‘I feel trapped.’

  ‘It’s a temporary measure. I want you protected until I’ve dealt with Boyd.’

  Dealt with? What the hell’s he going on about now?

  ‘You wouldn’t …’

  He picks up on my train of thought and derails it.

  ‘Relax. I’m not the Godfather. I’m the CEO of a fucking building company. I don’t go around cementing my enemies into the foundations, but I don’t let them walk all over me either, especially when it comes to the things I value in my life. I know you hate feeling hemmed in. What we need is a few days away from this shit. I need it. You need it. A taste of things to come.’ His eyes soften. He reaches down and unbuttons my combats. They drop to the floor. ‘Talking of which …’

  Slipping his fingers into the top of my knickers, he tears them away.

  ‘Not again,’ I groan. ‘I’ll have no underwear left.’

  ‘I’ll buy you plenty more.’

  He presses a hand against my clit, sending a pulse of warmth right through my vagina.

  ‘You’re not winning me round with a good fuck.’

  ‘That’s not my intention. Legs apart.’

  I groan, kick off my combats and simply do as I’m told. Immediately, a single finger slides further between my legs and enters me, pushing deep, finding my g-spot and massaging it. I bang my head back against the lift wall and draw in a breath. I’m done for now.

  ‘You’ve given me the mother of all stonkers, woman. I can’t go back into the meeting like this.’

  Withdrawing the finger and releasing me, he unzips his trousers and reveals his cock. True to his word, he’s completely ready, fully erect.

  ‘I don’t need to win you round.’ Grabbing hold of my right thigh, he urges my leg up to his waist and guides himself into me, readjusting his position until he’s happy. Holding my leg in place, he snakes his free arm round my back. ‘You’re mine already. And that’s the way it’s going to stay … for good.’

  ‘For good?’ I gasp, fighting against the flood of warmth in my core.

  ‘Oh yes. Now, hold tight.’

  I have just enough time to wrap my arms around his shoulders when he begins to thrust, drawing out to the hilt and pounding back into me, knocking the air out of my lungs.

  I’m determined to get at least one thing my own way. ‘If it’s for good, you’d better tell me you love me. Mr Sun says you’ve got to.’

  ‘He’s not the boss of me.’

  Again, he pulls back and rams inwards, setting my insides on fire. At this rate I’ll be a brainless, groaning wreck within a minute. I’m going to have to work fast.

  ‘No, I’m the boss of you.’ I reach up and grab a handful of hair. ‘Say it.’

  ‘Well …’ His eyes sparkling, his fingers tightening around my thigh, he drives into me again. ‘I love your skin.’

  I let out a tiny, involuntary yelp of delight before gathering enough wits to battle on.

  ‘That’s not enough.’

  ‘And your tight little cunt.’

  ‘Filth.’

  ‘And your tits.’ With a grin, he drives again. ‘I love every last bit of your body. I love tasting it. I love fucking it.’

  ‘How romantic.’

  ‘Not enough?’

  ‘No.’

  Digging his head into my neck, he picks up the pace, increasingly breathless, pushing out his next statements between thrusts.

  ‘I love spanking your backside … I love making you come … I love fucking your arse.’

  My muscles clench. I’m already teetering on the edge, and so is he. Putting a temporary stop on the list of things he loves about me, he tightens his grip again and pounds into me relentlessly.

  ‘Fucking hell,’ he rasps at last.

  Sensing the moment, I let go, digging my fingers into his broad shoulders and groaning in pure ecstasy as I contract around him. A flood of warmth pulsates through my crotch, and I’m spent. I’ve had it. I’m done. In a state of pure bliss, I relax into his arms.

  ‘I love that.’ He slows the pace, wrestling his breath back under control and leaning his forehead against mine. ‘I love the fact that we come together.’

  At last, he withdraws, tucks away his cock and zips up his trousers. Taking a handkerchief out of his pocket, he sets about cleaning me up.

  ‘I love wiping my cum from you.’

  I lean down, scooping up my combats and the lat
est pair of ruined knickers.

  ‘I love the fact that you love all this stuff,’ I inform him, pulling on the combats and stuffing the knickers into my pocket. ‘But it’s still not enough.’

  ‘Okay,’ he sighs. ‘I love the fact that you leave the top off the toothpaste, that you can’t cook to save your life, that you leave your clothes all over the bedroom floor. Still not enough?’

  ‘No,’ I smile.

  He takes his phone from his pocket and taps in a contact.

  ‘I love your eyes.’ He raises the mobile to his ear. ‘They’re so green. What colour eyes do you think our kids are going to have?’

  ‘Stop it.’

  A muffled voice interrupts the conversation.

  He replies. ‘Dave. Fix the lift.’

  Almost immediately, we begin to move. Depositing the phone back in his pocket, he folds his arms, leans against the opposite wall and studies me.

  ‘So that’s it?’ I ask. The lift doors open at the twelfth floor. Mrs Kavanagh enters, stops in her tracks and backs out again. The doors close and we continue downwards.

  ‘I love the fact that you’re incredibly talented.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘I love your spirit.’

  The doors open again. He shakes his head at a man. The doors close.

  ‘Just fucking say it, Dan.’

  ‘I love your potty mouth. You swear like a navvy.’

  ‘Still not enough.’

  He smiles and shakes his head.

  ‘Okay. I love your intelligence, your wit, your sense of humour.’

  This time, the lift continues uninterrupted. He watches as the numbers count down.

  ‘I love the fact that you love me, in spite of everything I’ve done.’ As if he’s wafting away everything he’s done, he waves a hand. ‘And now I think about it, I love the idea of you being my wife.’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘Yes, that’s definitely the way ahead.’

  ‘But …’

  The lift judders to a halt. We’re at the ground floor. The doors slide open. Before I know it, I’m tugged away from the wall and propelled out into the lobby while Dan stays put.

  ‘Oh, and Maya!’ he calls. ‘One last thing!’

  I stagger to a halt and turn, just as the doors begin to close.

  ‘I love you.’