Outside the bathroom, Edwards had the women’s facilities on lockdown. She had to apologize to several irate females upon exiting the bathroom and the restaurant.
“Get inside.” Julius ordered. His Mercedes idled at the curb with Sunny behind the wheel.
“No,” she said automatically.
Calista strode to the corner to hail a cab. Swept off her feet, she found herself in his arms, carried like her weight was insignificant. Julius wasn’t even breathing hard as he marched back to the car. He allowed her to slide into the back seat, then pulled her onto his lap when he followed her in.
“What the—”
“I’m taking you to my doctor.”
“No, you’re not.” How dare he! She scooted off his lap, only to have his hands tighten on her hip and thigh, keeping her ass right on top of his cock. Granted, it wasn’t hard, but still! Her stomach rolled for a completely different reason, and vomiting was the last thing on her mind. “Let me go.” It didn’t come out as aggressive as she intended. She sounded needy, which wasn’t what she wanted to convey.
The stare down was epic. Neither flinched nor gave ground. A throat punch or an eye gouge would’ve solved the problem. Any other man would’ve been in pieces, regardless of the witnesses. But it felt good, his lap under her rear, his hands on her body. She wasn’t the forgiving type. She’d cut a man off at the knees for the smallest infraction.
So why was she perched on his lap like a freaking hood ornament. Slowly, she peeled his fingers off her body and slid off his crotch, and over his rock-hard thighs. His nostrils flared and those brown eyes of his caught the light and turned molten. His jaw clenched and a muscle ticked like it kept time as a soft hiss issued from his slightly parted lips.
Did it hurt, her sitting on his lap, on top of his stiffening arousal?
Hell yeah, it hurt. Good! Because it hurt her to slide off his stiffy, onto the ultra-soft leather seat beside him, denying what her soaking core desired.
“I’m going home, Sunny.” The bastard had the nerve to look in the rearview mirror at Julius for approval. So much for comrades in arms. She’d led and he’d followed. They’d dodged bullets together, killed men together. He’d obeyed her orders without blinking an eye. Now, he sought permission from Julius.
How mad could she be when he placed his loyalty on the client, as he should. Turned out, she was plenty mad. It felt like a betrayal, like the bodyguard code was broken even though there wasn’t a bodyguard code.
“Are you still feeling sick?” Julius asked.
Horniness was a sickness. “I keep telling you I’m fine,” she snapped. She got that he was concerned. Under different circumstances, it would be adorable. But he ruined that when his lips touched Erica’s.
The silence dragged on for miles with not even a radio to fill the gap. Then… “How’s your mother?”
Calista wasn’t fooled. This change of direction wouldn’t get him closer to whatever he wanted. “The same. Not worse. Not better.” Talking about her mother depressed her.
“Are there any clinical trials or trial drugs?”
She shook her head. “Nope. There’s just time she doesn’t have.” Which quickly dwindled. “She hasn’t really known it was me or Laverne visiting since I put her in the nursing home. A few seconds of recognition is all I get.” Tears gathered and before she knew it, she was on the verge of bawling. She looked away, at her hands fisted in her lap, at the back of Sunny’s head, then out the window and the passing scenery. Crying in front of the three men was not an option.
He reached out again and covered her hand. No other words were necessary. His touch was enough to convey what didn’t need to be said. Her mother was dying and there wasn’t anything she could do about it.
“It’s just a matter of time in a race she can’t win.” Her voice became smaller and lower with each word. The thought of her mother made her feel helpless and defeated.
“Lynda’s in Russia.”
That jerked her head up and refocused her attention. Silently, she thanked him. “Did that make the news? I had been following the reports out of Germany.” And what few newsfeeds that continued the story weeks after the attack. Fresh news about the billionaire playboy and his crazy stepmother had the world riveted—for a week. Then, like all news stories, the Julius and Lynda drama was replaced by the latest scandal out of Hollywood. “Why Russia?”
“Alezandar Karpovilov. Her new lover. He’s an oligarch worth a lot more than me with close ties to Putin. She’s holed up in his dacha with fifty bodyguards.”
“Really.” The bitch. “So, how are you going to kill her?”
Julius threw back his head and laughed. “I’m not killing anyone.” Emphasis on “I’m.”
“Oh. Got it.” He didn’t have to get his hands dirty because he had a friend who loved nothing more than rolling in the mud. Namely: Harden Gage, head of the New York syndicate; and Emmet, last name unknown to her, a hitman. Not to leave out Sheik Davien and his cousin Nasir, the Crown Prince of Qari. “How’s Joshua holding up?”
“I’m keeping him busy, focused on JMI. He’s been working for Meckler as his errand boy. He whined the first day enough for Meckler to fire him. He came to me whining and I fired him. He showed up the next day in a suit with his mouth zipped.”
“Wow.” She was impressed. Tough love did work. “An actual suit and tie?”
“No tie and black Chuck Taylor’s instead of wingtips.” He chuckled, amused. “I have three bodyguards assigned to him and he’s living with me.” He winced and she actually had sympathy for him, though she could tell he was pleased to have his brother underfoot.
His thumb stroked the back of her hand. She didn’t comment on his hand still covering hers. She should but didn’t.
Today seemed to be the one day traffic wasn’t a nightmare and they managed to stay slightly above the speed limit all the way to her front door. The car rolled to a stop and both Sunny and Edwards exited, leaving them alone. They didn’t need to because nothing was about to happen other than a brisk goodbye.
“Will you call me if you don’t feel well again?”
“I have Laverne if I need anything, which I don’t.” She quickly added.
“I didn’t ask if you had someone to call. I asked you to call me,” he said, his voice rough and angry.
Wrong move, asshole. “No. I will not call you because you and I are over.” She snatched her hand from under his and reached for the door handle.
He hauled her back onto his lap and into his arms. She could’ve stopped him, and he gave her plenty of opportunity to. The fact is, she didn’t want to stop the glide of his lips against hers. She waited, breath bated, body trembling for the nip of his teeth, the slip of his tongue between her lips, the heat of his hand on her back, and the thickening cock under her ass. Any or all, she wallowed in anticipation.
Until he eased back and left her with nothing except the sharp edge of thwarted desire.
Embarrassed, she closed her eyes because she couldn’t look at him while she gathered her frayed willpower and prepared to scoot away.
“Calista.” His sharp tone halted her escape. “Your stock, you will sell to me and no one else.”
Those were his last words to her? About the damned stock! “Erica demanded the same thing.”
His eyebrows shot up. “When?”
“Yesterday.”
“She didn’t tell me that was her plan.”
“Prioritize your pillow talk.” She moved to climb off him.
He growled and his hands tightened on her hips. “Get this through your thick skull. There was no pillow talk and there will never be pillow talk with Erica. The only woman I want is sitting on my lap.”
It would be easy to lose herself in the heat of his gaze, and damn, she wanted to. But what if he lied. What if this was an elaborate scheme not to get her back, but to get what he really wanted. The stock to build his empire.
She stared him down until his hands slid from her body. Th
en asked, “When’s the next board meeting?”
His brow lowered a fraction. “Why?”
“You want to know who I’m selling the stock to.” She challenged.
His gaze narrowed and his lips peeled back in a snarl. “Yes.” He was never sexier.
“No. One. The stocks are mine, and I keep what’s mine. So, you and Erica can kiss my ass.” Her knees were weak as she climbed out of the car. After all, today had been quite a day.
Julius stood on the opposite side of the car. “The meeting is on Monday at the Manhattan office. 9:30 a.m. sharp.”
She spun and had managed to take two steps when he called her name again. Stopping was unnecessary, yet the decision was made before she had a chance to process it. Her head angled for a final look at him.
Those coppery eyes of his seemed molten in the sunlight and she couldn’t ignore the heat igniting in her blood. “I also keep what’s mine.”
He wasn’t talking about an inanimate object or nine zeros preceding a decimal point. He spoke about her. And didn’t that set her insides aflame. If there wasn’t a car separating them—
“Hi, Julius!” Laverne bellowed from the doorway of Calista’s house, destroying the potent moment between them.
“Hello, Mrs. Playne!” he shouted back, all jovial, as if what almost happened between them didn’t. Asshole. “See you Monday, Calista.”
She didn’t answer. Not to him or Laverne, who peppered her with questions the minute they were behind closed doors. She was done talking. Now it was time for action against three enemies: Erica. Julius. And her traitorous self, because no matter how much she wanted, and no matter how long she waited, her body knew what it wanted even if her brain and her heart said no fucking way.
Chapter Six
T he day started off rough and hadn’t gotten better. Breakfast: a toasted bagel with cream cheese and a cup of coffee went down with no complaints. And came right back up. Luckily Laverne was there to hold her hair back. The stomach flu was kicking her ass.
Lethargic and drained, barfing the entire weekend hadn’t helped. Too bad she couldn’t wallow in bed like she had all day Sunday. She had to suck it up and function long enough to get to the board meeting. Afterward, she’d crawl home, crawl back into bed, and hibernate.
Damn it. Now wasn’t the time to get sick. She had too many things to juggle this week. A meeting with Nina. Then a meeting with Layton. At some point this week she had to spend some time with her mother. She had missed the weekly Saturday visit because she couldn’t risk bringing any type of illness to her mother and the rest of the nursing home. The visits were mentally taxing; nevertheless, she wouldn’t miss another one.
“Sick all weekend, huh?” Laverne asked.
“Yeah, vomiting.” Since Thursday when she had lunch with Julius, which she would not tell her cousin about. That was the last time she’d been able to keep anything solid down. Since then, she’d been surviving on chicken noodle soup and had eaten the last can yesterday afternoon. Laverne held Calista’s hair away from her face as she continued to purge. Well, mainly dry heaved into the toilet. It didn’t stop until her stomach was one solid knot and she was huddled on the floor in a tight ball. The cool tile on her cheek was refreshing.
Laverne placed a cold rag on Calista’s forehead. “Are you in pain?” There was a hint of concern in her normally calm voice.
“No. Just nauseous.” The thought of food made her want to heave the lining of her stomach into the bowl.
“Jentry was like this when she was pregnant, throwing up the entire first trimester.”
Subtlety was not Laverne’s forte. Calista would have to be deaf to miss the innuendo. “I am not pregnant. First of all, I have an IUD. And second, I got my period last week. It was late and light and super short due to being stressed the fuck out, but, yeah, it was a period.” She rolled her eyes.
Laverne held up her hands and backed away. “Alright. Just checking a box and moving on. It must be something you ate.”
“Or a bug I caught from someone.”
Laverne waved her finger in Calista’s face. “Don’t look over here. Everyone in my household is healthy. No puking.”
“Well, good for you.” Calista climbed to her feet and locked her knees to stay upright. She needed a cold shower to clear the cobwebs and get her going, then she’d be fine. Jesus! It was seven thirty and the meeting began in two hours.
“Put my suit out while I take a shower,” she asked Laverne and yanked back the curtain.
Hands on her hips, lips pursed in a scowl, Laverne glared at her cousin and once again, stuck her nose in Calista’s business. “Where are you going?”
“My first board meeting and I can’t be late.” Better to answer than argue about Laverne’s nosiness.
“Oh! Okay. I’ll lay out your undertaker suit.”
“Sure thing.”
Fifteen minutes later, Calista returned to the bedroom wrapped in a towel to find a burgundy dress she’d relegated to the rear of her closet, and had long forgotten its existence, draped across the end of her bed, along with a pair of five-inch black patent leather heels and matching purse. When had she bought those? It didn’t matter, she wasn’t wearing any of it. “Damn it, Laverne. I asked you to do one simple thing.”
Calista stormed to her closet for her usual black suit. This time she’d pair it with a pink ruffled blouse for a different flare, only to find every suit she owned gone. A gaping hole four feet wide greeted her. “Laverne!”
Silence.
The heifer was gone, as well as every dark piece of clothing Calista owned.
“You are so dead when I get a hold of you!”
Quarter to eight. Fuck! She grabbed some underwear out of her drawer and got dressed.
T he staccato click of Calista’s heels across the marble foyer of Bryn Conglomerate headquarters drew the attention of the security guards. It was after the morning rush. Nine forty-five. Late, but the perfect time to make an entrance. She walked up to the security desk and the two portly guards watching her approach.
“Good morning. I’m Calista Coleman. Please direct me to the boardroom.”
“Is there someone you’re here to see?” the nearest guard asked.
She wouldn’t pull the “Do you know who I am!” card because they didn’t know who she was. Hell, neither did she. Calista Coleman or Calista Bryn. Who was she, or rather, who did she need to be to pull this off? Either way, she felt like an impostor trying to prove a moot point. “Julius Morgan.”
The guard picked up the phone and dialed. “There’s a Ms. Coleman in the main lobby to see Mr. Morgan.” He listened for a moment and hung up. “He’s unavailable.”
Because they were in the boardroom for the meeting. She fished out her phone and called Sunny, hoping he would be where he was supposed to be, guarding his employer. “I need a favor,” she said before he spoke.
“Listening.”
“I’m in the lobby. Come get me.”
“On my way,” he responded without hesitation.
Five minutes later, Sunny exited the center elevator. The guy was a linebacker in a business suit. He was sharp with his pale blond buzz cut on his square head. She wasn’t the only one who thought so judging by the appreciative glances from men and women alike. His cold blue eyes gave her the once over and returned to her face. “You have legs.”
Asshole. “Of course, I have legs,” she hissed and strode toward the elevator bank.
“Couldn’t tell in all those suits you wear.” He pressed the elevator button and waited next to her. Pointedly, she let her gaze stroll over his navy suit, drop to his pants, and stroll back up to his face. “I can’t wear a dress,” he said dryly.
“Neither can I when working,” she said just as dryly.
“You’re not packing?” One eyebrow arched, his gaze skeptical as the elevator opened.
She wouldn’t go that far. Once you get use to carrying, you never want to be without a weapon. She felt naked without her gu
n. Wallet with her conceal permit and ID, lipstick, and her Walther PPK/s were all stuffed into her purse. A woman didn’t need anything else.
“Don’t ask stupid questions.”
He chuckled at her response and pressed the button for the fifteenth floor. “I wasn’t surprised at your call. Julius told me to be on the lookout.”
“Oh.” Was her only comment.
“Should I let him know you’ve arrived?” he said all helpful.
“No. I’d rather surprise him.”
“Can’t be surprised when he knew you were coming,” he murmured.
She hated being predictable, but she had told him her intentions. Now, she was nervous. She smoothed her hand over the dress and threaded her fingers through her hair. Should’ve put it in a bun.
“You look nice,” Sunny murmured, earning him a hard glance. He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Not that I’m interested. I know my place in the world.”
“And what does that mean?”
“You were out of my league before the inheritance.”
She wasn’t out of anyone’s league. That’s not how she saw herself, yet she had to admit Sunny wasn’t her type for a boyfriend. He was her type for a friend. “So, you know about that.”
“Silent observer. You know how it is. They forget you’re in the room. Invisible.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” She could quiz him, mine him for info on Julius and Erica. Calista would be pissed the fuck off if the shoe were on the other foot and someone she trusted to protect her spied on her. Everything she needed to know wouldn’t be hidden for long. Secrets and lies never stayed hidden.
Her muscles trembled with a sudden weakness and her vision briefly dimmed. Hold it together, girl!
“You ready to do this?” Sunny murmured, his attention on the closed door, missing her trembling limbs. “No being invisible.”
Bodyguards were supposed to be invisible unless they needed to be seen. She wasn’t a bodyguard anymore and today she had to be seen. She rethought that idea as the elevator opened and she stepped into a busy office.
Plain and the Billionaire's Seduction (Plain Jane Series Book 3) Page 5
