Big Ben

by Nana Malone

  I quelled the irrational instinct to hide as I heard his footsteps on the hardwood, but I tried to hurry my movements.

  “You’re home.”

  I paused but didn’t turn around. “Not for long. I’m just packing for my trip.”

  “You don’t come home for days, and when you do, you’re going away? Can I even ask where you’re off to?”

  With every word out of his mouth, I could feel my blood pressure rising. “Paris.”

  “You’re going to Paris?”

  “For work.”

  “Why is an admin being taken to Paris for work?”

  I stopped trying to cram my boots into my bag and turned to face him. “Seriously. How is it you don’t listen to a single word that I say?”

  He swallowed hard. “Liv, I—”

  “Nope, you don’t get to call me Liv. That is reserved for people who love me. You humiliated me, tried to make it seem like it was my fault, then put me in a potentially dangerous situation. I’m done taking your bullshit.”

  I moved faster, scrambling around and shoving things into my bag.

  He was quiet for so long I thought he’d left, but when I hurried out of the bathroom, he was still there. Our gazes locked, and he pleaded with me. “I fucked up, Olivia.”

  Well, at least he hadn’t called me Liv again. “I don’t have time for this.”

  “Look. The other night got way out of hand. I was out of it. I know. And I get that Fenton makes you uncomfortable. I’ve been a complete twat. I never…” He let out a long breath. “I never should have spoken to you that way. I was out of order, and I shouldn’t have left you alone with him.”

  I shook my head. “Dexter, I’m leaving. I can’t have this conversation with you. Not right now. I have to go.”

  Stepping forward, he took my hands, stilling me. “I am sorry about the other night. I had just taken a pain pill.”

  “That’s your excuse? That’s not good enough anymore, Dexter. I’ve made excuse after excuse for you. You can’t be there for me in the way I need because you’re not looking after yourself. I need a partner Dexter.”

  “I know.” He licked his lips. “And I can be that. I just started an outpatient program. I want to kick the pills and the booze.”

  I tried to pull my hands out of his. Tears stung my eyes. “I’m happy for you. And I’ll support you in any way I can, but we…” My voice trailed as he got down on one knee, and my eyes went wide. “What the hell?”

  “I know I don’t deserve you. I know I’ve broken your trust. But I’m kneeling before you a changed man. I will give you my everything. I love you so much. Please don’t leave me. Marry me instead.”

  “What? Are you mad?” He had to be insane.

  “No. For the first time in a long time, I’m thinking clearly. I haven’t had a drink or any pills in a few days. I’m lucid and steady. I want to be better for you.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue velvet box.

  Oh God, no. My head swam. “Dex—”

  “I love you. I want to be by your side. Always. Will you marry me?”

  This wasn’t happening. Couldn’t be happening. Everything about this was all wrong. “Dexter, stand up.”

  “You have to give me an answer.”

  I blinked in surprise. “You’re doing it again, Dexter, trying to force my hand. And now you expect me to believe you really want to marry me?”

  “I need you.”

  And that was the crux of the problem. “You want me to look after you?”

  “Yes. No one does it better.” My brows drew into a tight line, and he rushed to add, “I want to look after you too. I’m a selfish prick, but I’m serious about changing.”

  “Christ, I have to go, Dex. This is not the time to do this.” I managed to finally tug my hands free.

  “Okay, think about it. Take the weekend. I’ll wait for your answer.”

  “What? Just the weekend? You’ve sprung this on me.”

  He ran a hand through his hair and started to pace. “I know. I just miss you so much and can’t live without you.”

  I could feel myself caving. Feel myself wanting to do what I’d done since the accident. Trying to fix him. Trying to fix us. But I stopped myself. “I told you I’d think about it, and I will. But you will not pressure or guilt me. This is still my decision, isn’t it?”

  He blinked at me rapidly. “Of course. You know I love you.”

  My watch vibrated, letting me know I had five minutes.

  I left Dexter sulking in the bedroom and rolled my bag downstairs and into the hallway where I did the final passport check in time to hear the doorbell.

  When I opened the door, instead of the driver, Ben stood on the doorstep. “I was just coming out.”

  “Let me get the bags.”

  I hadn’t put my sunglasses on yet, and I was sure he could tell that I’d been crying. “I’ve got it.”

  “Nonsense. I might force you to work over the course of a three-day bank holiday, but chivalry is not dead.” Brushing past me, he stepped inside to the living room and grabbed hold of my weekend bag. “You are the only woman I know who packs light for Paris.”

  I tried for levity. “I mean, you said there was shopping to be done, right?”

  He rolled his eyes as he chuckled. “Leave it to you—” Dexter’s appearance at the top of the stairs cut him off.

  Ben glanced up, and his shoulders tensed. Dexter froze then went pale. I could feel the slow-motion train wreck before it happened.

  Dexter recovered first with a flash of a smile that reminded me of the old him. “You must be the famous Ben Covington. Dexter Ford. I swear Olivia spends more time with you than she does with me.”

  Ben’s demeanor was cool and professional, but I knew him well enough to pick up on the gaze that narrowed imperceptibly. “Olivia,” he said deliberately, not using Livy like he did at work, “works very hard. I’m lucky to have her.”

  Dexter gave him another smile that somehow felt like he was visually marking his territory. Then he sauntered over to me to mark his territory. “Were you leaving without a kiss?”

  What the hell was I supposed to say to that? “I—uh—”

  What I didn’t expect was Dexter wrapping an arm around me and pulling me into him. I hadn’t prepared for Dexter’s lips swooping in to capture mine and refusing to let them go. He didn’t give me the kind of sweet kiss I’d have expected from the old Dexter. This was all possession and branding, bruising my lips.

  When I gasped in surprise, he shoved his tongue in, sliding it along the roof of my mouth. I couldn’t help the claustrophobic need to flee, to escape. I fought his hold a little and pulled back, my eyes wide.

  Dexter set his jaw. “I love you. I’ll see you when you get back.” He then very deliberately placed the ring box on the table that sat under the mirror where Ben couldn’t help but see it.

  I stumbled backward and stared at him. In the end, it was Ben who saved me by breaking the not-at-all-sexual tension by clearing his throat.

  “I’ll put this in the car and let you say your goodbyes. Not to worry, Ford. I’ll look out for her.”

  I glanced back at Ben and then at Dexter. “What was that about?”

  Dexter shook his head. “You didn’t tell me that was your boss.”

  I shook my head in bewilderment. “I’ve told you his name a million times.”

  “You failed to mention he was good looking.”

  I lifted a brow. “Because it didn’t really register.” Lies.

  He flushed. “When you get back, we’ll hash this out. Just know that I do love you.”

  I turned to leave, and he grabbed my arm and planted another kiss on my lips. It was even more forceful than the first. The kind of kiss that a year ago I would have said I wanted from him. But it felt cloying, needy, wet, slobbery, and I had to fight not to jerk my face away. When he released me, I staggered backward and wiped a hand over my mouth. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “I
just want you to remember we’re good together.”

  “Next time you feel the urge to kiss me, ask my permission first.”

  I left him at the doorway staring after me and slid into the open door of the Tesla Ben was driving, surprised to see that he must have sent my driver back to the office.

  When my gaze met his, his expression was surprisingly soft, and his eyes had warmed from ice blue to something closer to navy. It was as if he understood everything that had just happened better than I did.

  Ben

  That twat was her bloody boyfriend? The same arsehole I’d seen shagging the redhead in the conference room at the fundraiser? Fucking hell. And had that been a bloody ring?

  You’re too late.

  No, I fucking wasn’t. She could see through his bullshit, right? I prayed that she could.

  He’d endangered her safety.

  She was smart. She had seen what he was like. I had to believe that. But she likely didn’t know about the fundraiser. And if I told her now, it was going to hurt her.

  I couldn’t help but think I was making a mistake.

  The last thing on earth I’d wanted to do was involve her. But our plan required two people, or it wasn’t going to work.

  And the sooner we were rid of Van Linsted, the sooner she’d be safe.

  I knew I was on shaky ground. I was definitely bullshitting about this trip being work-related, and I should have told her the truth. But I was protecting her and knew the truth would make her less safe, so I rationalized that it was better if she stayed in the dark.

  The things you tell yourself.

  “Are you sure about this?”

  She gave me a courageous nod. “Yeah, I’ve got this. I’ll keep Van Linsted distracted. You talk to the client or whoever it is you need to see.”

  “You make it sound so simple.” Fuck, I didn’t want this for her. But here we were. “If he makes any move toward Rowan and me, what are you going to do?”

  She grinned at me and reached for her skirt.

  My gaze automatically scanned over the long slender expanse of her legs. Jesus. I swallowed hard and dragged my gaze away. “What are you doing?”

  Suddenly, I heard three taps in my com device.

  She grinned at me then lifted the hem of her skirt a little higher. “Look what I did.”

  I frowned. “You put it there?”

  “Well, my hair is up, so this is more covert. He would be able to see the device in my ear, so I just placed it under here. I used double-sided tape.”

  I placed my hand on her bare knee like a rookie. God her skin was so satiny soft. Touching her was a mistake. Letting my index finger trace the silky patch under her knee. I stared at her legs, trying not to picture them wrapped around my waist as I fucked her. I forced myself to swallow before I started drooling. “Uh, you certainly thought of everything.” She was right. Bram might see her communication device in her ear, which could make it extra dangerous for her.

  Just thinking about that possibility made my stomach coil and sent a bolt of fury through my blood. My fingers gripped her knee a little too tightly, so much so that she winced.

  “Ow.”

  “Sorry. I’m sorry.” I immediately released her.

  She blinked then licked her bottom lip, and yep, I couldn’t help but stare. “You’re staring at me.”

  I swallowed. “You look nice.”

  She grinned. “You think?”

  With most women, I’d assume a fishing-for-compliments situation, but she was being real. Just as guileless as usual. “Yeah, I think. Remember, just engage in a conversation and get out. Don’t be extra.”

  “I don’t know what you mean by ‘extra.’”

  “Don’t do anything else. Don’t try to get him to confess to anything. Don’t record anything. Just talk to him and keep him the hell away from Downs for a little bit, okay?”

  “I got this. Don’t worry.”

  “I’m not worried. I believe in you.”

  She grinned. “And I believe in you.”

  “Do you have to be so cheery all the time?”

  “It’s my most lovable trait.”

  The use of the word love made my heart squeeze. Did she know I was falling for her? That she was on my mind at all times.

  Know what, you twat?

  Jesus. I started to sweat without even realizing it. I wanted her more than I’d ever wanted anyone.

  Let’s not forget she knows nothing about you.

  I kept trying to shove that piece of information out of my head. The reason she wouldn’t be with me, the reason I couldn’t have her. The secrets I was keeping.

  Not to forget what you know about her boyfriend. Ex? Christ, I hoped he was her ex.

  I could tell her. Claim her. Make her mine and never think about it. But the way she was looking at me and smiling… I didn’t want to hurt her.

  And you’re scared.

  If she was going to me mine, I’d rather she chose me on her own.

  All right, suit yourself. Don’t tell her. Suffer.

  I shoved all those thoughts out of my head. I had a job to do, and it was going to get done. “All right. If you’re ready...”

  “I’ve never been more ready in my life. Let’s go, James Bond.”

  I shook my head. “You’re a loon.”

  “Possibly. Also, another reason you think I’m brilliant.”

  I swallowed as her words found their mark.

  22

  Ben

  The limo pulled up to the auction at Toussaint Ballroom. When the chauffeur opened the door, Olivia grinned at me, giddiness written all over her face. The peek of a dimple was almost too much. I nearly caved and leaned forward to kiss it. As it was, my fingertips dusted her shoulder, and the way her eyes dipped to the slight touch... I could feel it, the tension between us. The pull and push of need and attraction. But she couldn’t act it on, and I wouldn’t ask her to.

  Even if you have something that would free her.

  I wasn’t going to use it. I didn’t want to see her hurt. Not on my watch. When she moved to get out, I stopped her. “I’ll help you out.”

  I exited and went over to her side, opening the door for her. She placed her hand in mine. I had to grit my teeth against the charge of electricity. This time, she couldn’t hide her response from me. She gasped and tried to remove her hand, but I shook my head at her. “We’re friends, remember?”

  She blinked up at me and nodded. “Yup. Friends.” She dragged in a shivering breath and released it slowly. Well, it was nice to know I wasn’t the only one.

  I ignored the photographers and headed straight inside. “Do you remember what Van Linsted looks like?”

  “Oh yeah, I remember.” She tapped her temple.

  Despite myself, I wanted to laugh. “God, just be cool.”

  “I am being cool. And let’s not forget, I’m your badass operations director and master distracter.”

  “That’s not a thing. You’re also a complete goof.”

  “I’m not a goof. I’m efficient. I mean, I talk a lot, a mile a minute, but I know what I’m doing. Relax.”

  “Fine. Stay out of trouble. If anything happens, you come find me and we’ll get the hell out of here, okay?”

  “Got it.”

  I proffered my arm. “Okay. Show time.”

  We walked in together, playing the part of a couple besotted. Nodding at familiar faces here and there. Once well into the ballroom with champagne in our hands, I pointed out her mark. She grinned at me and then stood on tiptoes and dusted my cheek with her lips.

  Circuit. Fucking. Overload.

  I couldn’t form a coherent thought. I could only stand there and stare at her.

  “You okay?”

  I shook my head to try to loosen her effect. “Yep. After you.”

  She sauntered off, hips sashaying through the crowd. I wasn’t the only one watching either. Several men turned to watch her as she glided forward with the elegance of a swan. I couldn
’t talk. I couldn’t fucking think. Why was I there again? What was I doing? God, one touch from that woman and I was a completely useless piece of shit.

  Focus. Get in the goddamn game. Downs, he is your concern.

  Her scent knocked me on my arse. I was barely functional.

  For fuck’s sake. Get your shit together.

  Fortunately, locating Downs was easy. He even smiled when he saw me coming.

  I left my empty glass on a waiter’s tray, then he asked Downs if he’d like a drink.

  “Yeah sure, mate. Scotch.”

  His Australian twang was so subtle now that I had to listen closely to hear it. But I knew better than to think that he wasn’t Aussie through and through. “Rowan, you look well.”

  He grinned. “Are you going to butter my arse?”

  “Does it need buttering?”

  He laughed and shook his head. The waiter brought our drinks, and Downs laughed as he scrutinized the ball. “You traveled quite a distance to see me.”

  “A happy coincidence. Paris is only a weekend trip. We’re building a hotel here.”

  “Ah yes, your hotel interest brought you here.”

  I grinned. “Oh, you thought I came to woo you? I promise you, you’re not my type.”

  His grin was quick. “Shame, since I’m so pretty.” He took a sip of his scotch. “Speak plainly, boy. I’m tired of dancing around it.”

  So direct was the way to go. “I think the Van Linsteds have had too much power in the Elite for too long. For the last fifty years, save four years, a Van Linsted has been Director Prime. I want to see that change.”

  His lips tipped into a bit of a smirk. “Somehow you found out I’m one of the Five?”

  “I’m not sure it’s as much a secret as you think it is.”

  “Only the Director Prime at any time should know who the Five are.”

  “Hard to keep secrets in a family as small as ours. The rumors are that you have opposed the Van Linsted cabal before and lived to tell the tale.”