Tempting Christa: An Irresistibly Mine Duet - Book 1

by Delaney, Tracie

  “Okay, change out of the dress then we’ll start on your hair and makeup.”

  An hour and a half later, Cassandra had me stand by the door to my bedroom. She picked up the mirror and showed me her work.

  I gasped. I didn’t recognize myself. She’d swept my hair into an elegant up-do, leaving a few tendrils around my face. My makeup was flawless, the dress perfect. Nothing about the image staring back at me was familiar, and I was glad. This way I could play a part, pretend it wasn’t me on Dayton Somers’ arm. It was some other girl, a princess who, at midnight, turned back into a pumpkin.

  “Happy?” Cassandra asked.

  I simply stared. “I can’t believe that’s me.”

  “I get that from a lot of clients.” Cassandra tucked in a loose tendril and then added even more hairspray. “Would you like me to take a picture?”

  I nodded enthusiastically. I fetched my cell phone from my nightstand, unlocked it, and handed it to her. She ushered me to stand by the door again.

  “There you go,” she said after a few seconds. “I took a few.”

  “Thank you, Cassandra,” I said, oddly grateful considering my reluctance the entire time. “I know I wasn’t the most enthusiastic client.”

  She gestured dismissively. “Nonsense.”

  Once Cassandra had packed up her things, we walked into the living room. Mrs. Flannigan was on the floor playing with Max.

  “Well, don’t you look a picture,” she said. “Look at Mommy, Max.”

  Max frowned, his eyes scrunched together in confusion. I couldn’t blame him for not recognizing me.

  “What do you think, Max?” I asked as I twirled, my dress swishing around my ankles.

  As soon as he heard my voice, he broke out into a beaming grin. “Pitty Momma,” he said, his version of pretty.

  My chest tightened, so full of love for my precious boy. Putting up with the condescending arrogance of Dayton Somers for one evening to get a job that’d secure Max’s future was totally worth it. Once I’d proved myself at a company as prestigious as Somers Technology Solutions, other opportunities would open up for me. And anyway, Dayton was the CEO. I’d rarely, if ever, see him after tonight.

  I said goodbye to Cassandra and closed the door. A quick check of the time showed five after seven. Ten minutes until the car arrived to collect me. Dayton didn’t mention whether he’d be with said car, or if he planned to meet me at the venue. Thinking of either option increased my heart rate to alarming levels. I took a few deep breaths.

  I’d just calmed myself down when the expected knock came at the door, and boom, up went my heart rate again. Breathe, Christa. I bent to kiss the top of Max’s head, but he was far too interested in stacking blocks to notice me. With any luck, I’d be able to sneak out. I didn’t want him getting upset when he realized I was leaving.

  I mouthed “I won’t be late” to Mrs. Flannigan, then opened the door. I expected a chauffeur dressed in a smart uniform complete with a peaked cap.

  Instead, I got Dayton Somers.

  7

  Dayton

  It was rare for something to render me speechless, but when Christa opened the door, it took me a couple of seconds to recognize her. Fuck, Cassandra Bailey was good. I used her to style all my female companions, and me, but she’d outdone herself this time. I made a mental note to add a bonus to her next paycheck.

  “That color suits you,” I said.

  She blinked rapidly then glanced over her shoulder without responding to my compliment.

  “Thanks again, Mrs. Flannigan.”

  The woman lifted her head, smiled, and held up her hand in greeting. She seemed to be doing a good job of occupying Christa’s son. I didn’t have huge experience with children, but I imagined they could get very agitated when their mothers left them behind.

  I never had the chance to get agitated with my mother—unlike my father. An old resentment bubbled to the surface, ripping open wounds that had never fully healed. A rush of anger fueled my blood, and I clenched my fists, digging my fingernails into my palm to ground me. Something must have shown on my face—my rage, maybe—because Christa had paled beneath her carefully applied makeup.

  I forced my lips into a congenial smile. “Ready to go?”

  For a split second, I thought she was going to slam the door in my face. And then she straightened her spine, brushed a hand over her abdomen, and nodded.

  I escorted her to the car, and my driver held the door open for us. I waited until she was safely inside, then walked around the back and climbed in beside her.

  “You know, I half expected you to greet me in a pair of sweatpants and your face covered in one of those masks women are so fond of for their skin.” My attempt at a joke meant to allay her fears caused by my silent fury upstairs worked because a ghost of a smile appeared on her lips.

  “I considered it.” She clipped her seat belt in place. “What would you have done if I had?”

  I didn’t answer. I was waiting for her to look at me. Apart from briefly meeting my gaze when she’d greeted me at her apartment, she’d studiously avoided any form of eye contact. I was all too aware of the effect I had on some people. Wealth and the power that accompanied it could often intimidate, something I used to my advantage and made no apologies for.

  With Christa, though, that nervousness was probably heightened, especially as I held all the cards. And I’d continue to hold them for as long as she interested me. After that, well, the cards would fall—and so would she.

  Eventually she lifted her eyes to mine, and those absorbing irises, emphasized beautifully by thick lashes and expert makeup, sent a rush of pleasure surging through me. She might be here under false pretenses, but I didn’t possess morals that’d force me to feel bad about that kind of deception.

  I held her gaze, taunting, daring her to challenge me. For a fleeting moment, defiance pinched her features, and then she tucked her chin into her chest, hiding from me. I cradled her jaw and tilted her head up.

  “Don’t you want to know the answer?” I asked softly.

  “Not if I have to play games to get it.” She encircled my wrist and tugged my hand away from her face, dropping it in my lap. “Let me make one thing clear. I’m accompanying you this evening because you left me no choice. You virtually blackmailed me, knowing how much I need the job you may or may not offer me after tonight, but I’ll spell this out for you so we’re on the same page. That’s all I’m interested in.”

  I couldn’t remember the last time a woman I wanted made it so obvious she didn’t feel the same. It had all become far too easy. If I set my sights on someone, they usually ended up in my bed within twenty-four hours. Christa’s firm brush-off sent blood rushing to my groin. Oh, man, I’m going to have fun breaking through the barriers this one has erected.

  “Blackmail is a dangerous term to use, Ms. Adams. I’d be careful if I were you.”

  This time I didn’t have to encourage her to meet my gaze. She hit me head-on with a fiery glare that burned into my skin. I curbed a shiver. Passion like that would be dynamite in the bedroom.

  “You know nothing about me, Mr. Somers. Please don’t assume I’m easy pickings, on any level, because you’ll find I am not.”

  She bit down on her lip and turned to stare out the window. Her hands were clenched in her lap, but the fists she’d made hadn’t stopped them from shaking. An uncomfortable sensation tightened my abdomen.

  “I wouldn’t dream of assuming anything about you, Ms. Adams.”

  “Likewise,” she muttered.

  A grin tugged at my lips. My usual tactics weren’t going to work with this particular lady. Time to try charming her instead.

  “Christa, look at me.” I purposely used a soft, coaxing tone. It worked because she did as I asked, her eyes dark as molasses in the dim light inside the car. “First, it’s Dayton, not Mr. Somers. Second, you didn’t pass the tests, you aced them. There will be a contract in your inbox by the time you get home this evening.” Sh
e widened her eyes and opened her mouth to speak until I placed my finger over her lips, stopping her. “Third, I have instructed my Head of Application Development to put you on the fast-track program. It’s usually reserved for graduates, but considering how well you tested, I’m sure you’re more than up to the task. And finally, I’ve reserved a place for Max at the childcare center my company provides, which means you won’t have to worry about who’s taking care of him while you’re at work, and you’ll be able to see him during your lunch break.”

  Her hand flew to her mouth, and she stared at me, eyes glistening as she shook her head. “I can’t believe it,” she whispered, the sound muffled.

  “Well, whatever you do, don’t cry because it’ll ruin your look, and if Cassandra finds out, there will be hell to pay. And if you think I’ll save you from her wrath, you’re mistaken.”

  A strangled noise broke from Christa’s throat, and I realized it was a half laugh, half sob. “I won’t let you down,” she said.

  “Oh, I know,” I replied. “Because if you do, your feet won’t touch the ground. I’ll fire you personally.”

  She gave me a genuine smile, one full of sincerity that reached her eyes. Fuck, if my dick got much harder, I’d have to undo my dress pants. Plus, we were almost at the venue, and the last thing I needed was the paparazzi getting a close-up of my hard-on. That was a headline I didn’t need to read about in tomorrow’s online edition of the New York Times.

  “What do I have to do tonight?” she asked.

  I hitched one shoulder. “Nothing, other than try to appear interested when the dullest people you will ever meet try to impress you with their boring anecdotes.”

  She gave me a puzzled frown. “You’re kidding, right?”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You’ll soon find out.”

  My driver stopped in front of the hotel, and the inside of the car lit up from all the flashbulbs set off by the waiting press. Paul opened the door, and I climbed out, then reached back in for Christa’s hand. She surprised and pleased me by accepting it.

  “Smile, nod, and say nothing,” I murmured against her ear.

  She shivered. I wasn’t sure whether her reaction was because of the cold night, anxiety for what lay ahead, or because I’d slipped my arm around her waist.

  I took the steps slowly, conscious of Christa in heels. The press shouted questions which I ignored. As soon as we entered the hotel, the noise abated.

  “You good?” I asked. Facing a welcoming committee like that could be intimidating if it wasn’t part of your normal existence. For me, it was standard fare, especially during product launches. For her, far from typical.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” she replied calmly.

  I glanced sideways at her. I’d expected her to be all wide-eyed, to flinch at the cameras clicking away, but apart from ducking her head, she’d responded like a pro. Yet another interesting contradiction about the fascinating Christa Adams.

  I captured her hand once more and headed for the event room. Time to play the congenial host.

  Two hours later, the speeches were finished, and the investors had received an appropriate amount of my time. I could finally relax and enjoy what remained of the evening. Christa had played her part to perfection, almost as though she was comfortable mixing with people outside her social circle. It piqued my curiosity. Tomorrow, I’d carry out a little research about the intriguing Ms. Adams. I’d meant to get onto it this week, but I’d been maxed out prepping for tonight. I could have delegated the task to my head of security, but as this was a personal voyage of discovery, I preferred to carry it out myself.

  I extended my hand to Christa. “Would you like to dance?”

  She gave me one of those genuine smiles, the kind that had her eyes twinkling. I’d noticed they’d increased in frequency as the evening had progressed. My charm offensive must be paying off.

  “That’d be lovely,” she said, wrapping her slender fingers around mine.

  “Tell me,” I said as we moved around the dance floor. “Was tonight as bad as you thought, considering I blackmailed you to be here?”

  She tipped her head back, her teeth grazing her bottom lip. “I can’t answer yet because the night isn’t over.”

  I chuckled under my breath. “Fair point.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why did you go to all that trouble to get me here? The babysitters, the gown, the personal stylist. You’re a rich, good-looking guy who put in a lot of effort you didn’t have to.”

  I bent my head to one side, pleased at her positive comments. “How do you know I didn’t have to?”

  She laughed. It was the first time I’d heard her laugh, and I’d go to considerable lengths to hear it again. “Are you honestly trying to insinuate that the only option of female company tonight was to coerce a future junior employee?”

  “I had plenty of options, but only one interested me.” I touched my forehead to hers. “And it’s only fair to warn you that I always get what I want.”

  A splash of pink colored her cheeks, and for a second, I thought she was warming to me—well not to me per se, because I didn’t show the real me to anyone, but at least the version of me I’d chosen to share with her this evening. My hopes were short-lived.

  “Sorry, but you’ve got the wrong girl.” She slipped out of my arms and walked away, smiling at a couple of guests as she sidled by.

  Stunned, I watched as she headed for the exit, so poised, so elegant, so fucking beautiful. Christa had more grace in her little finger than the likes of Caroline had in her entire body, regardless of the differences in their backgrounds.

  Maintaining a casual air, I strolled after her, shaking hands with a couple of people on the way then smoothly moving on. I caught up with her right outside the event room. I took one look at her distraught expression and gently gripped her by the elbow, intending to take her to the lobby bar where it was a little quieter. I didn’t get that far, though, when she spoke.

  “Please take me home.”

  8

  Christa

  During the journey back to my apartment, Dayton remained tight-lipped, his jaw clenched shut, a nerve ticking in his cheek. God, I hoped I still had a job after that performance. To attain the very thing I needed so badly, only to have it snatched away would be devastating. The evening had almost drawn to a close anyway. Another thirty minutes, and I’d have been out of there. Why couldn’t I have smiled demurely, finished the dance, and excused myself to go to the restroom, you know, like normal people?

  It had all gone so well until Dayton had uttered the words, “I always get what I want.” Sutton had said virtually the same thing at the beginning of our relationship. I’d only been working for him for a week. He’d made the odd remark, but I hadn’t thought anything of it because he’d flirted with every woman under thirty. Besides, I knew I had absolutely no chance with him. I found him attractive, but so did half the office. A guy like Sutton—charismatic, successful, someone who frequented the upper echelons of Seattle society—wouldn’t be interested in a naïve nobody like me, right?

  Wrong.

  I’d been standing at the photocopier when he’d appeared at the entrance to his office. He’d propped a shoulder against the doorjamb, arms folded, watching me. I remember my fingers trembling, and my heart fluttering as I fed papers into the machine. He’d asked me if I was seeing anyone. Dumbfounded, I’d shaken my head. He’d walked toward me, so casually. Flustered, I’d dropped the stack of papers, and he’d bent down to help me pick them up. He’d accidentally—or so I’d thought at the time—brushed his arm over my nipple, and a jolt of electricity had run through my veins and rendered me speechless. He’d helped me to my feet, brushed a lock of hair over my shoulder, then told me that he wanted me, and that he always got what he wanted. The older, wiser me would have recognized his comments for how scary they were, hence my reaction to Dayton tonight.

  What was it about me that attracted thi
s type of guy? Powerful, intimidating, dominant. Did I give the impression I was easy to control and manipulate, that they’d be able to do what they wanted to me, then toss me aside like trash the second they were bored—or when I committed a terrible transgression, like getting pregnant? With Sutton, yeah, maybe my youth and inexperience made me easy prey. But with Dayton? I’d given as good as I’d gotten. I’d been clear that I was there under duress, that I wasn’t interested in a sordid little fling with the boss man.

  Perhaps at the beginning of the evening, that had been true, but I knew I’d let my guard down as the night had worn on. Carried away, maybe, by Dayton offering me the job, and all the worries I could now put on the back burner. I’d become a little too friendly, laughing, joking, allowing him to take my hand every time he introduced me to anyone we’d come into contact with, as if I mattered.

  As though I wasn’t there because he’d coerced me with the promise of a job—one he’d delivered on.

  But that didn’t persuade me that he was a good guy. Men like Dayton Somers didn’t rise to their exalted positions by being kind and considerate and philanthropic. They were ruthless, driven, and single-minded, and anyone who stood in their way usually got crushed.

  I’d allowed a man to break me once. It wouldn’t be happening a second time. Dayton Somers could want as much as he liked… He wouldn’t be getting his wish.

  My apartment building came into view as the car turned onto my street. Just a few more seconds to hang on, to hold it together. My hand was on the latch before we’d come to a complete stop.

  “Christa.”

  I paused, glancing warily back at him. “Do I still have a job?”

  His eyes widened momentarily, then his face became shuttered. He looked away from me, staring straight ahead. “The contract will already be in your inbox. I’m not in the habit of reneging on legal arrangements.”

  I refrained from pointing out that I hadn’t signed it yet, and he could easily tear it up. It wasn’t like I could fight him on it.