Save the Date

by R. J. Groves

  Tay nodded. It was understandable. He didn’t really want to know who else had the guy investigated—despite the curiosity welling inside him. It was mostly a way of changing the subject. ‘I’ll have Helen process the payment,’ he said. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some meetings to attend.’ He picked up the folder for emphasis, but did not open it. ‘I’ll look through this later and let you know if I need anything else.’

  He stood, reaching a hand across the desk. Phil shook it. ‘Pleasure doing business with you, Mr Ballin.’

  He seated himself again, letting Phil find his own way out as he’d done many times before, and stared at the folder once more, his mind still torn. It wouldn’t be hard to look at it. Just a glance. He’d paid for it, after all, and it might give him more of an understanding of what happened with Andie. But Andie was what held him back. It didn’t feel right to be looking into her past. Even so …

  The folder seemed to call out to him, his curiosity raging. What had this Joseph guy done? Why had their engagement ended? He’d been hoping that it wasn’t because of Andie, and by the sounds of it, the guy had probably pissed off a few people if he’d been investigated before. But this was Andie he was talking about. If he wanted anything to do with her, he couldn’t go around investigating every guy she’d had a past with. Or every guy she came across. The answer was obvious. He couldn’t look at that file.

  Sighing in resignation, he pulled his desk drawer out and dropped the folder in. It didn’t fall gracefully, but what could he say? It wasn’t as though he’d been gentle about it. He stared at the folder sitting at the top of his drawer. Or, more precisely, at the sheet of paper that partially slipped out. He tried not to look at it, but key words stood out. Like he had no control of his body, he lifted the cover of the folder and scanned the page, words and phrases jumping out at him. He let out a long slow breath, rubbing the stubble on his chin, and swore. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

  ***

  Andie stepped out of the elevator, the suit bag draped neatly over one arm, and almost bumped into one of the last people she would have expected to see at Taylor’s work. He entered the elevator as she left it, and her gaze followed him.

  ‘Phil,’ she said, her voice sounding almost as surprised as she felt.

  He turned to face her once he was safely in the elevator and nodded his head curtly. ‘Miss Gray.’

  She felt her mouth open to speak, but nothing came out. Then the doors closed, and the elevator started the descent. She felt her brow furrow. Why was Phil Clayton—the man she’d used to look into Joseph—at Taylor’s work? Sure, he was a private investigator—one of the best, from what she’d heard. It was only natural that he might be in high demand. She scanned the room, not surprised to find there were few offices on this level. And Taylor’s seemed to be the only one that was currently occupied. Was he having someone investigated? It made sense, she supposed, since he had a company to run. No doubt he looked into people before conducting business deals with them.

  Shrugging the thought aside, she smoothed a hand over her hair and headed towards his office. His secretary, Helen, was on the phone, but mouthed that he was alone when she held up the suit bag. Despite it being a business-related visit, she still felt the nervousness in her stomach. She’d spent most of the weekend with him and still felt his kisses on her skin, his touch. But he’d made it clear he wasn’t available for anything Sunday night, though he was evasive about the reason why.

  It hadn’t bothered her. Mostly. He was entitled to keep things to himself. As was she, no doubt. But he hadn’t mentioned that it was only that Sunday. Sundays, he’d said. Plural. Was it every Sunday? And if so, what could it be that made him evasive about it?

  She knocked briefly on the open door and flashed a smile at him. He shoved the drawer of his desk closed and rose to his feet, his eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights. He ran a hand over the stubble on his chin and moved towards her.

  ‘Andie, did—did I know you were coming?’

  He gripped her shoulders, his touch firm, and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead, despite the fact that she’d lifted her chin to allow him better access to her lips. He pulled away, and she bit into her lip, holding the suit bag up between them and working on the zipper.

  ‘Didn’t know you were already here,’ she lied. She did know. She’d called before and Helen had already said he was in. She shook the bag off the suit and held it up towards him. ‘Thought I’d drop this off to you while I had a chance. But since you’re here, try it on?’

  He hesitated, so she flashed him a smile. After a moment, he agreed, shouted to Helen to not let them be disturbed, and began closing the blinds on the windows. For his privacy, she told herself. So why did he have that look in his eyes?

  She swallowed, draping the suit over the back of the chair in front of his desk, and folded her arms across her chest. She waited until he’d closed his office door before she spoke.

  ‘So, who are you investigating?’

  He seemed to falter before busying himself with another blind. ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘Phil Clayton,’ she said. ‘I saw him leaving as I got here. I hear he’s the best.’

  Taylor’s eyes narrowed as he walked past her to work on the blinds behind his desk. The breeze of him passing her sent a shiver through her body. How could he make her feel like that without a touch? Very soon they would be alone, completely out of sight of anyone. She would have thought that the inside windows would have been enough if he was trying on his suit, but perhaps he liked his privacy. Unless he had other ideas … She swallowed again, her mouth feeling dry.

  ‘It’s a personal matter,’ he muttered, finishing up with the last blind. ‘You’ve heard of him?’

  She bit into her lip again, glancing around the darkened room, her eyes adjusting. He turned on his desk lamp and studied her. She dropped her gaze, suddenly feeling like she was in an interrogation room. ‘I’ve, uhh … worked with him before. Actually, he did a job for me.’

  His eyes widened further, a look that could have easily been taken as somewhere between concern and worry, and shrugged his jacket off. She cleared her throat and started taking the suit off the hanger.

  ‘I had him look into Joseph,’ she muttered, surprising herself with the easy admission.

  She hadn’t told anyone else before, so why him? Sure, she’d told those who were close to her why she’d ended it with Joseph, but never the extent she’d gone to in order to find out what was going on. Part of her had wished she’d never hired Phil to start with. But as time passed by, she’d come to realise it was possibly the best decision she’d ever made, even if it had shaken her.

  It took her a moment to realise that he’d just about frozen in place. She could have sworn his eyes were darker than usual, colder, and that something twitched near his jaw.

  ‘Joseph’s my ex,’ she added.

  Had she ever mentioned her ex’s name to him before? She couldn’t recall. She didn’t usually drop ex’s names to other men—not that she’d ever had much of a chance to. She felt the hairs at the back of her neck stand on end as it dawned on her that she was having quite a few firsts with Taylor Ballin.

  He blinked, his brow furrowed. The look confused her. It was like he knew that already, but she was sure she hadn’t mentioned his name. Maybe he just assumed. Yes … that had to be it. Suddenly, his expression flickered again, less knowing now.

  ‘Right, of course,’ he said, taking the suit jacket from her outstretched hand and shrugging it on. ‘Do you have a habit of investigating your … umm …’ He waved his hand in a gesture that suggested she knew what he was talking about.

  She didn’t. Not really. But she had an idea.

  ‘Fiancés?’ she offered.

  He grimaced. ‘Or any guy you’re with,’ he added, removing his pants and taking the ones she’d brought with her.

  She lifted her eyebrow, observing his evasiveness, and tried to avoid looking
at his lower half. This was a business appointment, after all. She had to keep things professional. But his question niggled at her. Was he worried she’d investigate him?

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘It was the first time I’ve investigated anyone. Something just seemed a bit off about him. I saw this email once—’ She broke off, her mouth snapping shut.

  Already she’d divulged too much. She barely knew Taylor, despite sleeping with him and agreeing to be casual. She felt the warmth spread to her cheeks. What had she agreed to with this guy? She’d never been a fling kind of person. Or a casual relationship person, for that matter. She’d always wanted the wedding, the happily ever after. Always. And now that her mindset had been altered a little—or a lot—she was suddenly into things she’d never considered before. God, it made her feel … sluttish.

  ‘The suit’s a good fit,’ she muttered, trying her best to control the shakiness in her voice. ‘You’ll be the best-looking best man there.’

  His lips flicked into a smile. ‘Technically speaking, I’m the only best man. The others are groomsmen.’

  He opened a tall cupboard in his office to reveal a full-length mirror and a few spare shirts, and looked at his reflection. She felt her eyebrows shoot upwards, surprised to find he kept spares—and a mirror—hidden in his office. Then again, she supposed it made sense. If he worked long hours, had multiple business meetings …

  He let out a low whistle and turned to the side to get a better look. ‘Looks good, Andie. I might have to fire my tailor and use you instead.’

  ‘You have a tailor?’ she blurted. Her cheeks flushed again. Of course he did. He was a rich businessman. And she’d seen his suits. Only a tailor could get them that precise.

  He shrugged lazily and winked at her. ‘Thinking of changing to someone else. I hear there’s a seamstress nearby that does a better job.’

  Her blush deepened. ‘It’s for a wedding, it’s a different cut.’

  He started closing the distance between them, taking his jacket off as he walked. The niggling at the back of her mind reminded her that anything to do with Taylor Ballin was out of her usual character. ‘I like it better.’

  ‘It’s too fancy for meetings,’ she muttered, willing herself to put more distance between them, but her body betraying her. She wasn’t trying that hard, if she was being honest. Still …

  ‘Shame,’ he muttered, cupping her cheek with his broad, strong hand.

  The warmth spread through her body and settled deep within her core. Oh, she’d never grow used to his touch, how he sent sensations through her body with such little effort. Her weak attempts at avoiding anything from happening dissolved the second his lips were on hers. He kissed her slowly, gently, yet deeply. She felt his hand land on her lower back, and she let him tug her closer, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck, diving her hands into his hair. She wasn’t worried about ruffling his hair—he had a mirror to neaten himself up, after all.

  Then he released her and began working on the button of his pants.

  ‘Wh—what are you doing?’ she said, her eyes wide. Surely he didn’t think … Did he? His office … It was so risky. The voice at the back of her mind piped up again, telling her exactly what kind of behaviour it would be.

  His brow furrowed as he stepped out of his pants. ‘Changing back to my business suit,’ he said, as though the answer was obvious. ‘Don’t you have to take it back?’

  A puff of air escaped, and her cheeks warmed up once more at her presumption. ‘No,’ she said, picking up a pen from his desk and fiddling with it. Anything to distract herself. ‘It’s finished, so you can keep it now. Just don’t forget it at the wedding.’

  ‘You might have to remind me,’ he said, something flickering in his eyes.

  She swallowed, trying not to look too far into it. He wanted her there now? Maybe because of the arrangement they made … Even so, the wedding was still weeks away. Anything could happen in that time.

  Chapter 28

  Tay shook out the suit and hung it on the hanger, putting it in his hidden office wardrobe to keep out the creases. He was still yet to put his business suit on. Partly because Andie was standing between him and it. Mostly because she was closer to that damned folder than he wanted her to be.

  He didn’t want the topic to even come close to Phil Clayton again, but there was something she’d said that nudged at him. First of all, she was clearly the other client Phil had mentioned. Which meant she’d know about everything he’d read in the file—as well as most of what he hadn’t read, too. Had his secret life—secret family—been what split them up? Or was there something else in that file he hadn’t read yet?

  But that wasn’t entirely what had his stomach in knots. She’d felt like something was off with Joseph—that Joseph had something to hide. He had something to hide—the kind of thing he was sure would have her running. Who was interested in hanging around a guy with a criminal record? Would she investigate him, too?

  He knew the cycle with investigating. It rarely stopped at one. It became too easy to find out information about anyone. He should know. He’d been doing it regularly for ten years. But this time felt … different. This time felt wrong. Most likely because it was personal, rather than business. But personal was how it always started.

  Andie’s one time had been completely personal. Enough to ruin her engagement. There was nothing to guarantee she wouldn’t do it again. And he had to make sure she didn’t look into him. He could trust Phil—he’d never rat on him. But there were other investigators around. And any one of them would jump on the opportunity to dig up dirt on him.

  He studied Andie as she fiddled with the pen, looking nervous. He could still taste her on his lips, feel her body beneath his hands. He’d never feel that again if she looked into him.

  ‘I’m surprised you hired an investigator,’ he blurted out, not sure where he was going with it. Wasn’t the plan to get the idea out of her head, not bring her attention back to the topic? Damn his mouth for talking without thinking. ‘They’re not cheap.’

  He was sure her grip tightened on the pen. ‘No, they’re not. Which is why I don’t have enough for a new car.’

  He exhaled slowly. Cost deterred her. That worked in his favour. Didn’t guarantee anything, though. ‘It must have been hard. Finding out he wasn’t as clean as you thought.’

  Her brow creased, and she tilted her head to the side, studying him. Shit. Had he said too much? He racked his brain to remember how much she’d said, to make sure he didn’t say any more.

  ‘How—’

  ‘I’m assuming,’ he blurted out. ‘He must have had something going on for it to be worth ending your engagement.’

  Her eyes narrowed further. ‘I never said that’s why we broke up.’

  She talked slowly, calculatedly. Damn it all. This was why he should have kept his mouth shut. His brain had seen it coming. His mouth didn’t get the bloody message. He closed the distance between them, putting his hands on her shoulder, clutching straws.

  ‘Like I said, I’m assuming. Sorry if I’m off. I’ve been having people investigated for a while, and more often than not, they’ve got some stuff going on behind the scenes. It’s more difficult when it’s personal.’

  She lifted her chin up towards him. Defiantly? No, not quite … Curious, perhaps. He had to get off this topic, into a safer zone. He searched his mind for a safe topic and came up with … nothing. His brain had deserted him.

  Shit.

  Suddenly her eyes widened, her mouth dropping open. ‘Taylor Ballin, are you worried I’ll have you investigated?’

  ‘What? No,’ he scoffed, realizing he must have answered too quickly.

  She placed a hand on his chest, tugging at his shirt. ‘Are you hiding something I should know about?’

  ‘Nothing worth investigating.’

  Her eyebrow lifted, and she pressed her hand against his chest, guiding him until the back of his thighs hit the edge of his desk. ‘Do you have somethi
ng to tell me?’ she said, her lips dangerously close to his. He swallowed. Damn. The wench was trying to seduce a confession out of him. Well, he wouldn’t cave in.

  Much.

  ‘I do,’ he said, his tone purposefully deeper. Her eyes widened a little, clearly surprised at his response. ‘I have this fantasy, you see.’ Her eyes narrowed once more, but he was sure he saw her lips twitch. ‘Involving you, me, and this desk. Maybe the couch over there, too.’ He rested his hands on her hips and squeezed. He registered the breath leaving her lungs, her body tense.

  He tugged her closer and pressed his lips against hers, pouring all of his desire and desperation into that kiss. He felt her body relax under his hands and tugged her closer again. Clearly it wasn’t the answer she’d been fishing for. But it no longer mattered, because her hands were already working on the buttons of his shirt, her body pressing against his. His lack of proper pants made his desire obvious.

  She kissed him back with a desperation much like his own, as though wanting to forget something. Ignore something. He wondered what was going on in her head, what she was wanting to forget. She finished with the buttons and, instead of sliding his shirt off, pressed her palms against his chest, moving her hands over his torso as if trying to memorise every line with her fingertips. He’d never had a woman touch him like that. It was strangely sensuous.

  He worked on the buttons of her blouse until he had her breasts directly in front of him, the mounds heaving above her bra. He buried his face between them and breathed her in. Her perfume, the slight hint of perspiration. She pressed harder against him. He heard a growl and was convinced it came from him.

  Taking hold of her hips again, he spun her until they’d switched places, and lifted her enough to sit her on the edge of his desk. Her pencil skirt made undressing fully unnecessary—just as well, since they were in his office. Helen was the only one who dared interrupt him if his door was closed and the blinds were down. Even though he’d given her strict instructions not to interrupt, it didn’t mean she’d follow them.