His Corporate Claim

by J. D. Fox

  “I’ll get you ice.”

  “No, I should just go to my room.”

  “Relax. I haven’t bitten anyone in a week; I think you’re safe enough.”

  After grabbing a small bathroom towel, I filled with it ice from the fridge and tied it off.

  “Here,” I said as I placed the impromptu cold pack on her foot.

  “Ah,” she said with relief. “I always do a number on my little toes.”

  “You do have full medical with Palmer Industries, so we’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”

  The bag slid off her foot to the floor. “Oh hell,” she said.

  “I’ll get it,” I said, snatching it and returning it to her foot. “Here. You could use a pillow, too. I’ll get you one.” In a second I’d brought back one of my bed pillows and put it under her foot.

  “There. More comfortable?”

  Talia nodded her head. “Thank you.”

  “Now,” I said, “what did you want to tell me?”

  “I see your evil plan now. Incapacitate me, and then make me talk.”

  “It could be worse. I could ply you with liquor, but my father took my only bottle.” I smiled, hoping my little joke would lighten the mood. It did anything but; instantly Talia had scrunched her eyebrows together.

  “Your father?”

  “Yes. He’s here this weekend.”

  She shot me an incredulous look.

  “Why?”

  Oh hell, Lucius didn’t tell her? What was he thinking?

  “Dad wanted to meet you.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said. “Why would your father want to meet me?”

  “You are engaged to his son.”

  Talia’s face flushed. “I’m going to kill him.”

  “Who?”

  “That rat bastard, Lucius!” She stood suddenly and winced as she did a comical hop, step, hop, step toward the door.

  “Talia,” I said. I took a few quick steps and swung her into my arms before she put her hand on the door handle. “Stop. Tell me what is going on.”

  “This is all Lucius’s doing, isn’t it?”

  Talia’s ticked at Lucius now, and it’s all my fault. I had to open my mouth and convince Lucius to invite my father to the wedding. I should have listened when he said she wanted an intimate ceremony. Holy Mother of God, how do I tell her about the aunts?

  “No. I called my father and asked him to come. Lucius didn’t tell him anything.”

  Her eyes widened, and she pulled at the door handle with a grim expression on her face.

  “Let me go, Sam Palmer,” she growled. “All of you are ridiculously impossible.”

  “Talia, stop. Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Wrong? WRONG?!” Her voice rose. “You are all nuts! That’s what’s wrong.”

  Her breaths came too fast, causing her chest to heave. I stood in front of her, fascinated with how her mouth moved differently when she spoke her recriminations. She was much too close for me not to notice her perfume, or her body heat.

  “You’re right,” I said. “I am nuts. I’m fucking crazy about you. Since the day I met you I haven’t been able stop thinking about you. And I don’t care if it’s wrong, but I need to do this.

  Her hazel eyes grew wider as I brought my mouth to hers; her dusky pink lips were the sweetest I’d ever tasted. I slipped my arms around her waist, pulling her closer as she melted into me. The need for more of her burned through me, demanding more from the kiss; our tongues met in a frenzied dance to seek more of each other. Damn, I wanted her, and there was no denying she wanted me. And it felt so right to kiss her, as if this was my one immutable purpose. I let my hands fall to her rear and dug my fingers into her luscious flesh, pulling her hips forward to ride against my hard cock. She groaned, and I pushed her against the wall, savaging her mouth to make what I wanted clear.

  Talia moaned, just as her hands met my shoulders and pushed.

  “No,” she said.

  At first, I didn’t comprehend her words.

  “No,” she said again. This time, the word seeped into my lust sodden brain, and I pulled away.

  Talia’s sweet face flushed. “I can’t— oh, HELL.”

  And with that, she turned the handle and pulled open the door. With a look of regret that tore at me heart, she slipped away, leaving me to want her more than ever.

  It was official: I was a horrible brother.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Talia

  Hell. I just kissed Sam Palmer when I knew damn well that I shouldn’t. I couldn’t run fast enough from his room. Hell, I couldn’t even run. I danced a crazy half hop, stop, half hop to my door. When I get there, I reach into my bathrobe pocket for my room key, and it wasn’t there. Frantically, I checked the other pocket, and then the first pocket again. Hell. Did I even put it there in the first place? I can’t remember. The only thing I can remember is Sam Palmer’s soul-shattering kiss, and how much I want him.

  It was all too much. I was in a town I’ve never been to, in a hotel so big I was sure to get lost, and couldn’t walk anywhere because my little toe was about to explode and fall off.

  What will I do now?

  I imagine myself sitting in the hallway, lost, forlorn and forgotten, withering to bare bones from the strong air conditioning in the hallway. I wished my life could just go back to how it had been, but the plain fact was that I couldn’t ignore the way Sam Palmer’s kiss blew me away. The thought sprang up that I might even be in love with him.

  No. I couldn’t be. I’d barely gotten to know the man.

  And how do you know what love is? You’ve never fallen in love; you’ve barely even had a crush on anyone. Hide away, hide away, little girl, like always. Just because Mom never got to love your father past the brief time they had; never got to marry him. She never got a white picket fence, or brothers or sisters for you, or a second chance at partnership, because she LOVED him and couldn’t get over his loss. She could be never happy again. And since you first saw that love is big and scary, you decided you never would love anyone. Keep your head in your books, girl. Hit the next academic goal, and then the next career goal. Far better to lose yourself in your work than to succumb to the risk of love.

  I sank to the floor and sat shaking as I wiped away the mist in my eyes, hating this late night epiphany I’d had in a hotel hallway. It was true, all of it. I hated that my mother had pined away for a man that I never got to meet, and never would. He was a constant ghost in our life—a huge “what could have been” that had forever colored my world with an empty space I could not crawl away from.

  Sam Palmer with his warm eyes, sexy smile and obvious desire for me made me feel, for once, not empty.

  It was the first time my life that a man had made me feel so, and it was a strange and wonderful sensation. But it also one I do not trust. How could I? There’d been no man there as I grew up to teach me what it meant to have a solid, male presence in my life. And because these feelings were new and untried, I’d investigated him to find the evidence that would make me say, “There. You definitely can’t trust him.”

  It’s a twisted way to look at the world, but it had stood me in good stead up till now.

  I’d gone to his room because, when I finally Googled Sam Palmer, I found nothing on him. Lucius had racked up dozens of web entries of bad behavior, including several car crashes and a blog post from a woman who declared Lucius Palmer to be hazardous to women’s hearts everywhere, none of which surprised me. Lucius Palmer signaled “bad news” from the moment one met him.

  But Sam? Not a peep, unless you count charity functions and an investor’s prospectus naming Sam a company vice president. Not Lucius, no. But Sam is apparently a gold-plated community pillar. I have no idea why Lucius lied about him, but I had to tell Sam the tales his brother had been spreading about him. Except, when I got in the room, it seemed ludicrous to snitch on Lucius. Sam had to know his brother better than I did; and if he didn’t, I’d just look like
a jerk for telling tales out of school.

  I was so upset by the whole matter, not to mention being in Sam Palmer’s sexy presence once more, that I’d flopped around like a stranded fish and hurt my toe.

  Damn it— I needed that toe. I couldn’t stand in high heels with it throbbing like this. All I wanted to do is get into my room and get some ice on it. Maybe room service would send someone with a couple of buckets, because I cannot walk to wherever the ice machine ice sat to get some.

  So here I was, sitting on my ass in the hallway of a luxury hotel, and I didn’t have a clue about what I should do. Tears edged my eyes, but I was too exhausted to cry them.

  “Talia?” queried a feminine voice.

  I looked up to see Angela McVee, our Creative Director, giving me a quizzical look. From this angle, she was impressive. Angela carried a “little extra” on her frame but she dressed very nicely, almost seeming to nullify appearing big. She had her black hair is a bun and wore slacks, a beautiful sweater set, and a chunky gold necklace.

  “When did you get here?” I asked.

  “Me? Just a little while ago.” She spoke smoothly, as if her arrival wasn’t important or notable.

  “I thought you had to have been ill to miss so much work.”

  Angela gave me a crooked smile. “No. Just taking well deserved time off. Lucius knows about it.” She acted as if it was perfectly normal that she’d offloaded two weeks of work onto her employees without notice.

  “I’m sure,” I replied dryly. I grew angry about Eva pinch-hitting for Angela without so much as a phone call or a thank you while Angela took her suddenly dire “personal time.” I wasn’t in her position, but I knew that a boss should never put undue burdens on their staff. I’d never felt comfortable around the woman who towered over me, but at that moment I prickled with active dislike.

  “But I wouldn’t miss this. A weekend in Aspen?” Angela prattled on, before she suddenly seemed to take a good look at me. “But what are you doing on the floor?”

  She’d finally noticed my body jumbled in its undignified position and sounded scandalized by it. If I hadn’t been so bedazzled by my thoughts of Sam and his hot kisses, I might have been also.

  “I left my key in the room, and I think I broke my toe.”

  God. I sound so pathetic. Since I might not survive this embarrassment, though, it might be the best thing to expire right now.

  She tsked as if I displayed the height of incompetence, which I suppose I did.

  “Poor thing. I’ll go to the front desk and have them send up a key. Don’t go anywhere.”

  As if I could. Between my throbbing toes and my aching heart, there was no good solution to my current problems.

  “I’ll be right here. Thanks.”

  Angela hurried off and because my injured toe commanded my attention I didn’t wonder until she walked into the elevator why she hadn’t just used the phone in her room to call down— it had to be on the same floor. But I didn’t have time to ponder the question, because Henry arrived within the space of one elevator ride.

  He peered at me with concern. “Miss Winton, what happened?”

  “My key’s hiding inside my room.”

  He nodded thoughtfully and without judgment. “Yes, keys are prone to wander. Let me help you up. Or should I call the paramedics?”

  “Oh Good Lord, no! It’s just a broken toe. I think”

  He bent and examined it. “It is turning colors. But hopefully, it’s just a sprain. My son gets these all the time playing soccer. It’s gotten so we tape his toes before he goes out on the field.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Ten, going on forever. He has his sights on a soccer scholarship for college, so we couldn’t keep him off the field if we tried. My daughter though... she goes through worse during ballet class. She’s thirteen. We’ve tried to convince her to take modern dance, but it’s ballet or nothing.”

  My heart clenched. Here was a man that was involved with his children’s lives. This was how it was supposed to be; someone fretting over activities and school prospects as his children made their way in the world.

  “Let me help you up,” Henry said.

  The porter dipped his shoulder and I grabbed onto his arm. Between my good leg and Henry’s strong arm, I stood. Once upright, I leaned against the wall while Henry unlocked my door. He pushed it open and helped me to the front room of my suite.

  “Is there anything else you need, Miss Winton?”

  “If you don’t mind, I could use some ice for my foot.”

  As I step-hopped the length the hallway to my bed and settled myself in it, Henry took the bucket and the door shut behind him.

  I swung my foot up and put a pillow under it, wondering if I’d ever walk in high heels again.

  When the door opened I said, “Thank you, Henry.”

  “Stepping out on me already?” Asked Lucius with a smile.

  Lucius?

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I met Henry in the hallway and heard my fiancée was in need.”

  “Don’t, Lucius. I am not in the mood. I broke my toe and—”

  “Say no more. Lucius Palmer to the rescue.”

  What is it with the Palmer men wanting to rescue me? First Sam, and now Lucius, waiting on me. Good or bad, they both had a knight-in-shining-armor complex. Which, if I was in a better mood, I might appreciate. But not today. Not after this week, which had shown me just how lightly I’d throw away my principals and moral values. I’d let Lucius lure me with money and Sam with sex, and there were no two bigger evils in this world.

  But Lucius brought an honest-to-goodness ice bag wrapped in a towel, a bottle of generic pain relievers, two bottles of water and a cup of ice. My opinion of Lucius improved as he set his haul on the nightstand.

  Good Lord. Am I so cheap my good opinion can be bought by pain relievers, ice, and water? I might as well have sold my body on the street.

  Lucius smiled his most charming Palmer smile, which I now recognized as the trademark weapon men in his family used to disarm their victims. But I suddenly remembered that three Palmer men inhabited the “lodge” now, and why I was ticked at Lucius.

  “You should drink water,” he said. “You know what they say about altitude and dehydration.”

  “Don’t try to act nice, Lucius. Why didn’t you tell me your father would be here? And why is he here?”

  “I’m sure he just wants to meet you for the Sales Director job.”

  “But Sam has that.”

  “I’m trying to convince my father that he needs my brother elsewhere and leave us without the magnificent help of Sam Palmer. I’m sure that he doesn’t intend for Sam to stay. After all, Palmer Corp is huge and most likely this is just one more stop in his grooming of Sam to take over the reins of the company.”

  Lucius sounded bitter, and I wondered why. If I’d had a parent who preferred a sibling over me, I suppose it would’ve made me angry. But I hadn’t; I’d grown up as the only child of a single mother, and I didn’t know what it was like to have a brother or a sister. But I think I would have been grateful to have a person who shared the same parents and family history. It seemed to be a waste not to appreciate your brother.

  “Explain something to me, Lucius. You’re the older brother but he’s a Vice President of the company?”

  Lucius scowled. “He told you that?”

  “No, I looked it up. I wanted to know who I was dealing with.”

  Lucius sighed. “Dad has always favored him. But it’s okay; I don’t want the hassles of running a multinational corporation. Sam works more but gets the same money I do, so he’s the loser anyway.”

  I bristled at Lucius calling Sam a loser, but it’s not my job to defend him to his brother. And I don’t believe Lucius doesn’t care; his using a derogatory word to describe his brother plainly shows that he does mind the difference in which their father treats them. I didn’t like getting dragged in the middle of this family drama. This
was bad business and none of mine. I wanted no part of it. “I think I should just go home.”

  “Why? Did Sam do something inappropriate?”

  Hell, yes. And I participated eagerly. But I was beginning to suspect that there was something else inappropriate going on here.

  “No,” I said. “I just don’t like this situation. I’ve told you more than once, Lucius. I’m here to work.”

  “But you are.”

  “Am I?”

  Lucius crinkled his eyebrows. “You signed an employment contract saying you’d perform any reasonable request for the job. A weekend spent in a public venue with your employers is reasonable. Plus, you got two days off before it.”

  “On one of those days you insisted I go to a spa.”

  “No one will say I gave you an onerous burden, Talia. Now, it’s late, and you should rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “The morning? Eight for breakfast, right?” I said.

  “Are you asking me to breakfast?” he said with a smile.

  “No. Sam said—”

  “Sam,” he said derisively. “Sure, he got to it first. He always does. Yes, I’ll see you at breakfast,” he said. “In fact, I’ll come to get you. Wouldn’t do for us to go separately, would it? Now, how about giving your fiancé a kiss?”

  This was to too much.

  “Get out, Lucius, before I call a shuttle and get myself home.”

  He smirked. “You’re adorable when you’re angry.”

  My eyes grew wide. How dare he tease me?

  “I’m even more dangerous when I’m injured. Out!”

  “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

  The door clicked shut as he left, and I lay on my bed as my toe throbbed with pain and the rest of my body at thoughts of Sam’s mouth on mine, and his hands on my ass cheeks, pulling me against his hard cock. He was so hot, I would have done anything he wanted.

  And shot my career to hell.

  But that didn’t stop me from fantasizing about his hard body against mine, his clean sexy scent, and the fire he sent up my spine when he kissed me. I’m aroused and distraught, and if I didn’t relieve the heat between my legs, I would go insane. So it was Sam’s hand, not mine, that teased my enervated flesh with fresh waves of pleasure. It was his mouth and not my fingers dancing with delicate abandon on my swollen folds, drawing sharp gasps with each stroke. I imagined him inside me, moving in unison with the thrust of my hips until I reached the summit of bliss and exploded. White heat burned through me and took me to a place beyond this world and yet it was not enough.