Betrayed by the CEO

by Clare Connelly

  She ladled the soup silently, her hand unsteady as she lifted a lovely mix of seafood and saffron stew into a deep vessel. “I just … get a feeling about you.”

  He took a step closer, pretending to help by lifting the bowls closer to the pot. It smelled delicious. “And what feeling’s that?” He enquired silkily.

  Chloe finished putting dinner into the bowls and then placed the ladle onto a chopping board. “You could command the attention of any room you walk into. I’ve no doubt you’ve got people tripping over themselves to do your bidding. You just seem very …” she searched for the right word. Powerful. Controlling. Commanding. Authoritative.

  “Very?” He prompted, his dark eyes glossy as they examined her face.

  “Intimidating,” she finished weakly. Her smile was apologetic. “But maybe that’s just me. I guess William’s taught me to run a mile from men like you.”

  The inference had his chest compressing frantically. Indignation was hard to suppress from his tone. “You think I’m like your husband?”

  “Oh.” She darted her tongue out and licked her lower lip. “No. And yes.” She shook her head, and reached into the cutlery drawer for a couple of spoons. “He was also very intimidating. Powerful and wealthy.”

  Hendrix said nothing. How could he respond to such a disgusting insult? “Where shall we eat?” He changed the subject, but Chloe knew she’d said something wrong.

  She thought back to her description of her husband and winced. She’d painted him as a true bastard of the highest order, when she’d described William to Hendrix, and now she’d compared the two men. “That was rude of me,” she said sincerely, not moving from the kitchen. “I don’t know you well enough to analyse your character. And from what I do know, you’re nothing like William. He would never have helped someone like me for the sake of being kind. He would have expected to get something out of it. Not like you.” She didn’t catch the flicker of an emotion like guilt in his eyes. “I only meant that you are both very awe-inspiring, in different ways.”

  Hendrix nodded, his expression inscrutable.

  “Come through here,” she said, unable to shake the feeling she’d said something completely off-putting. She led the way into the lounge, and cleared some partially dried-out play dough from the top of the table. “My apartment’s quite tiny,” she said with a small shake of her head. “Even though it’s just the two of us, we’re already tripping over one another.”

  She indicated for him to take a seat and then walked swiftly back to the kitchen, to fetch the garlic ciabatta from the oven. When she returned, Hendrix was studying a photograph on the wall. “Your wedding,” he said unnecessarily. Chloe put the bread down and moved to stand behind him.

  The photo had been taken by one of William’s friends, right after the ceremony. It was a candid shot; they had both been laughing at something, though Chloe couldn’t remember what now. A wistful smile of remembrance tickled her mouth. “Yes.” She lifted her fingers to the frame and wiped across it slowly. “A long time ago.”

  “I find it curious that you choose to display it,” he said with a strange hardness to his voice. His eyes were locked to the picture as though he’d seen a ghost. “Given the fact you’re suing for divorce.”

  She nodded. “He’s Ellie’s father.” Her voice cracked a little.

  Hendrix slanted her an assessing glance. “He hasn’t even met her.”

  The rich disgust in his voice caught her off guard. “No,” she moved to the table and settled herself into her seat. “But Ellie deserves to know where she comes from.”

  “Even though he’s an abusive son of a bitch?” The venom in his tone drew her gaze sharply.

  “Yes.” She fiddled with her spoon. “I don’t like my husband. I don’t particularly want to see him, ever again. And if I’m honest, I’d rather Ellie had nothing to do with him.” She paused to find the right sentiment. “But that might change. Who knows what the future holds? I never want Ellie to resent me for pushing my agenda onto her.”

  A thousand thoughts ran through his mind but he stayed silent. His smile was forced. “This smells delicious.”

  “I hope so,” she responded modestly. She watched as he lifted some of the seafood soup to his mouth.

  His sound of pleasure was genuine. “You’re a great cook,” he said with true admiration.

  “Oh, I’m glad you like it.” She realised she’d been anxious, and his praise sent ripples of pleasure running over her.

  He did like it. In fact, it was one of the nicest things he’d ever eaten. Sitting in the midst of this small, happily cluttered room, he had to harden his resolve to stop from enjoying himself. Seducing Chloe was too important to confuse with any kind of real feeling. He needed to take her from William in the way that would truly hurt the other man, just so he could throw it in his face. It didn’t matter if she was the best damned cook in the country. She was just a means to an end.

  “Let’s talk about the grounds for divorce.”

  Chloe nodded, and replaced the spoon onto the table. “Yikes. I guess we have to, don’t we?”

  His laugh was gentle. “Yes.” He stood, and moved into the kitchen, returning a moment later with the wine he’d brought, and two glasses. She watched as he unfurled a small Swiss army knife from his key ring and lifted the corkscrew.

  “You’re a boy scout, huh? Prepared for anything.”

  “Believe me, Chloe, I’m the opposite of a boy scout.”

  Her cheeks flushed, her eyes dropped guiltily. She was affected by him, and she didn’t want to be.

  “Thank you,” she murmured, taking the wine glass he offered and lifting it to her lips. She breathed in its heady, spiced fragrance.

  “So?” He prompted. “How would you like to proceed?”

  For a second, she wondered if he meant her rampant sense of desire; but of course, he was talking about the legal situation. “I’ve given this a lot of thought,” she said quietly, her blue eyes focussing just over his shoulder. “I read the brochure that your firm sent me. And I think the fairest way to proceed is to claim irreconcilable differences.”

  Hendrix had somehow just known she would attempt the pacifist route. “I see,” his disapproval was obvious.

  “You don’t agree,” she observed, placing her wine down and eyeing him thoughtfully.

  “No. I think it weakens your bargaining position. Did your husband cheat on you, Chloe?”

  His breath was laboured, beneath the calm sounding enquiry.

  Her violet eyes blinked. “I… why do you ask that?”

  He gripped the stem of his glass tightly in his palm. “It’s relevant.”

  “No, it isn’t. Unless I intend to divorce him owing to infidelity, it’s not.”

  Hendrix compressed his lips. “Fine. Leave the divorce out of it for a moment. Was he unfaithful to you?”

  She wanted to confide in him. She desperately wanted to tell him the truth. But she’d held all the hurt in her heart for so long that it was habit now.

  “There were many reasons our marriage didn’t work out.”

  Her silent defence of the bastard was galling, to say the least. “Yes. I can imagine. Let’s look at what you’ve already told me. He’s been physically abusive to you. He has blackmailed you. He left you pregnant and alone in a foreign country, and hasn’t once helped you with any of the raising of the child. And he’s cheated on you.”

  Her eyes flew wide, and resentment chipped inside of her. “Why ask the question if you already know the answer?”

  “To ascertain what you know,” he responded without emotion.

  “Fine.” The elastic that she had wrapped around her self-control was pulling, and getting close to breaking point. “He cheated on me. A lot.”

  The added qualifier jabbed into Hendrix’s chest, too. He knew that Eleanor believed herself to be in love with the man. He’d been unfaithful to his sister, as well. William had allowed her to love him, and he’d been married!

  “
You would be wise to consider suing for divorce on the grounds of Adultery.”

  “Perhaps,” she said with a shake of her head. “But I can’t do that.”

  He had another spoonful of soup, willing his temper to calm. “And why not?”

  “Because it will become a matter of public record.” She reached across and put a hand on his, no longer surprised by the spark of electricity that travelled the length of her arm. “We have a child together. She’s only two now, but one day, she’ll be able to find all this out. How he and I conduct ourselves is going to matter to her. It’s going to form the four walls of her reality. I don’t want her to be able to Google all the sordid details.” Chloe shook her head. “Or whatever Google is replaced by in ten years time,” she amended with a wry smile.

  Hendrix reached for some ciabatta and ran it around his now empty bowl. “I will do my best to put a suppression on the details.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Come on, Hendrix. I know the way it works. William is a public figure. There’s going to be media interest. I experienced it first time around, when we got married. What I want is for this to go away.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I just want it to be done. I want to be able to go on with my life.”

  Hendrix took in a steadying breath. He was supposed to be seducing her, not arguing with her. “Tell me about your life,” he invited, leaning back in his chair so that he could see her more clearly.

  “For the divorce?” She asked, though she was thrilled to get off the prickly topic of the petition.

  “If that’s what you’d prefer to think,” he drawled, his dark eyes scanning her face in a way that he knew she’d perceive as his interest in her.

  Sure enough, a betraying blush crept up her neck. “Oh,” she said with a small nod. “Well, my life is pretty unspectacular,” she remarked. “Single mum, I work from home. Georgia’s my best friend. My parents live in the UK. And I found the perfect place for me and Ellie to move to, but I’m going to have to withdraw my offer because of that jackass William.” She laughed self-derisively. “I can say that to you. You’re not going to put it in the papers that I kind of hate him.”

  “You do, huh?”

  She stared at him, her eyes cool and direct. “What do you think?”

  It pleased him far more than it should have. “Good. I’m glad.” He leaned forward, and beneath the table, their knees brushed. Chloe startled, her eyes wide as she met his gaze. The mocking amusement she saw there made her heart skitter. “You’re going to need to harden yourself to this process. Even with two people who are complete saints, it is very difficult to make it through a divorce without a little mud slinging. Think about it, Chloe. Is William likely to be as mature as you? Or is he going to try to sully your name?”

  Her sigh was shaky. She was glad they were discussing something so emotional, so that she could pretend it was their conversation that was affecting her, and not the nearness of his body.

  “I don’t know,” she said, finally. Though it was a lie. “That’s why I came to you. Or your firm,” she clarified.

  “When you think about the future, and what your daughter might be able to discover on the internet, I want you to remember something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “That unless you play to win right now, in this battle, you may well lose custody of her. What does it matter what she discovers in ten years time if she has to spend those ten years living with a son of a bitch like Ansell-Johns?”

  Chloe’s pulse splintered in her body. “You don’t really think that will happen do you?”

  “No,” he agreed with a degree of calm she envied. “Not as long as you let me handle things.”

  “God,” she dipped her head forward, into her palms. “This is going to get really messy, isn’t it?”

  Oh, he hoped so. The messier he could make William Ansell-Johns’s life, the better. He kept the conversation light while she finished her dinner, but when the time came for him to end their evening, he was reluctant. He moved instead to the comfortable lounge, and continued to make her comfortable and engaged.

  They talked easily. Surprisingly so, for two virtual strangers. Chloe stifled a yawn against the back of her hand. Her pale eyes drifted to the clock on the wall. It was almost midnight, and Ellie would be unlikely to give her a sleep in the next morning. But she didn’t want him to go.

  Hendrix was relaxed, sitting at the other end of the sofa. His body language had changed, as the night wore on, and Chloe could no longer deny that she liked spending time with him. That she liked him.

  And the knowledge was both delicious and terrifying. So close to her divorce, she couldn’t afford to get involved with someone. Until that point, she’d found it easy to stay faithful to her marriage vows. Raising Ellie had left her with little spare time to get to know a man. Running her business had exhausted her meagre spare time, and so she’d never even missed that companionship. Until now. She could taste her freedom, it was so close at hand, and yet she didn’t even want to wait the few months it would take to formalise her divorce. Which meant what? That she wanted him? That she wanted to throw caution to the wind and pursue him, even though the consequences could be disastrous?

  “You’re a long way away,” he drawled, his dark eyes studying her face.

  She startled, drawing a guilty gaze to him. “Just thinking … how late it is.”

  It was indeed. His date would definitely have moved on to someone else now. And he didn’t mind a bit. “I suppose I should leave you to get some sleep,” he said, his tone rich.

  “That’s okay,” she was quick to demur. She inwardly groaned at her obvious eagerness. She shot him a small smile. “I haven’t spoken to a grown up other than Georgia in such a long time. It’s really nice just … talking with you.”

  His expression showed that he understood exactly why she didn’t want him to leave. He hooked one ankle over his knee. “What do you do for work, Chloe?”

  “Work?” She furrowed her brow.

  “You mentioned earlier, that you work from home.”

  “Oh, right.” She nodded. Though she was proud of the career she’d established, she felt almost shy to discuss it with this man. “I’m a free lance website designer.”

  She’d surprised him. She could see from the way his features leaped at the description. “You are, huh?”

  “Yes. Why does that seem strange to you?”

  He laughed, and leaned forward. “It doesn’t. It’s just not what I would have guessed.”

  “And what might you have said?”

  He sobered, looking at her with undisguised fascination. “Something artistic,” he settled on, finally. “Something creative.”

  “Oh, but this is,” she gushed. “I do everything – from the layout, to the copy writing, to the artwork. I’m a full service designer. Full accountability, that’s the way I like it. I get to create a site from scratch. It’s great.”

  “And are you good at it?”

  She laughed softly. “Yes.”

  Had he been expecting her to evade that question? To pretend modesty?

  “I know that must sound a little conceited, but I am good at it.”

  “And you’re able to fit it in around being a parent.”

  “Yes.” She rearranged herself in the chair, unconsciously bringing her body closer to his. “Well, I sort of had to,” she pointed out with a grin. “Not like I had another choice.”

  He was impressed, despite his intention to keep her at arms length. “So you work when you can, and that’s enough to support you.”

  “Yes. I make a good living from it. I’ve only stayed in this tiny place because Georgia’s downstairs, and it’s allowed me to save most of what I earn. I’m so freaking angry to think of William taking my money.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe he did it.”

  And although avenging his sister’s death was his main play, he didn’t want to think about William Ansell-Johns. “Is web design something you’ve always wanted to
do?”

  “No.” She shook her head, and her face wore a mask of self-derision. “All I’ve ever wanted was to be a wife and mother.” She groaned audibly, and then hit his leg. “Don’t you laugh at me. I realise how absolutely pathetic it is. The truth is, I’m one of those sadly unprogressive women, who grew up on Disney cartoons and actually thought being rescued by a Prince Charming was awesome. Feminists around the world would have every right to hang me up as the worst kind of woman.”

  He was smiling, and more than that, his heart was laughing.

  “I came to New York, and bam. I met my Prince Charming.” Her eyes assumed a faraway look. “He was everything I thought I wanted. Gorgeous, rich, flattering, and he told me everything I wanted to hear.” She let out a frustrated sigh. “I really thought I was living the fairy tale.”

  “And when did you know you weren’t?”

  She lifted her wine glass from the floor and carried it to her lips. “We’d only been married a week when I found out that he’d had an affair with my cousin. On the night of our rehearsal dinner.” Her body language was stiff. “I was mortified. I felt very guilty, you see…”

  “Guilty?” He interjected, his anger scathing.

  She forced herself to continue with sharing the confidence. Now that she’d started, there was no sense in holding back. “Yes.” She ran her finger around the edge of her wine glass, looking for a way to distract herself. “I was … inexperienced … when I met Will.” She blinked away the past. It was so real, though, that she almost felt like she could reach out and touch it.

  “You mean, a virgin?” He queried silkily, ignoring the way his body responded instantly to her revelation.

  She nodded. “Yes. William thought we should wait until our wedding night, and I agreed. Actually, I thought it was incredibly romantic and respectful. Remember, I considered myself to be a long lost cohort of Cinderella and Princess Ariel,” she made an attempt at lightening the mood with a joke.

  “And his inability to keep it in his pants made you feel guilty why?” He was leaning closer to her. He stretched one arm along the back of the sofa. His fingers were just a hair’s breadth from her shoulder.