by Selena Kitt
That she had his back.
“Of course,” she assured him, not wanting him to see or feel any hesitation on her part.
Now she knew what the extra meeting room was for, and if he needed her, she would come running. Besides, the thought of Ric facing down two she-cats with claws out made her roar inwardly. She didn’t like the idea of him being alone with any woman who wasn’t her.
“Thanks.” Ric brushed a grateful kiss over her lips. He tasted like alcohol and this reminded her of the drink he’d poured for her.
“I’ll have my phone,” she told him, reaching for her glass and taking a tiny sip of her brandy. “Can you text me if you need me?”
“Yes.” He sounded relieved as he slipped his arms around her waist from behind and bent to kiss her neck, sliding a cascade of dark hair aside to do so. “I’ve always needed you, Leesa.”
His words filled her heart to bursting.
“I’m here,” she assured him, putting her drink down and turning in his arms. His face was serious, thoughtful.
“Remember when I said that our relationship was going to be tested?” His big hands moved through her hair, down her back. “This is one of those times.”
“I know.”
She only had to look into his eyes to know he needed something from her. She could only hope she’d know the right thing to say or do in the moment, whatever it was. The truth was, she would walk across burning coals for him if she had to.
There was no devil she wouldn’t deal with, no bargain she wouldn’t make, for this man who held her so tightly in his arms. She didn’t care how it looked, if it made her appear weak or submissive. She only cared that Ric knew, deep in his bones, how she felt.
“You ready to be tough, my little Valkyrie?” He bent to nuzzle her throat, his breath hot against her collarbone.
“I’m ready,” she murmured, although her answer wasn’t directly related to his question. She was ready, in so many ways—for him, to be his, to look into his eyes and see no doubt there. But when she met his needful gaze, she knew it wasn’t up to her. Ric was the one who had to be ready. To trust, to believe, to accept her feelings for him.
And she was going to have to be patient. Not her forte, to be sure, but she would do whatever it took. That’s what she told herself as he gave her that long, speculative yet hopeful look, his big hands gripping her hips like he thought she might swim from his grasp, a slippery fish, the one that got away.
“I’m going to jump in the shower.” Ric released her, grabbing his drink and tossing it back in one gulp before turning on his heel and heading to the bathroom.
Annalesa threw back the rest of her own drink, letting it burn her throat and belly with fire, doing her best to ignore the sharp spikes of anxiety rolling around in the pit of her stomach.
Elsa was drunk by the time Annalesa saw Ric slip out for his meeting. She sat with her mother, whose words were only slightly slurred, and smiled at the collection of Elsa’s friends Ric had managed to gather.
“I know this is awful of me, darling...” Elsa leaned in toward her daughter with a guilty laugh, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “But I’m quite glad Anders couldn’t come.”
“Why?”
“He’s just such a bloody killjoy.” Elsa wrinkled her nose, sipping more wine she really didn’t need, but if you couldn’t get drunk on your birthday, when could you get drunk? “He’s a good man, don’t get me wrong. But one look from him and I feel like I’m supposed to drop and give him fifty.”
“I know what you mean.” Annalesa couldn’t help laughing her agreement. “But I was asking why he couldn’t come?”
“His father passed away.”
“Oh!” Annalesa’s smile faltered. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”
“There was no love lost, darling.” Elsa waved her sympathy away. “He’s just gone to Bergen to fight over the will with his brothers. Apparently, two of them didn’t get what they expected.”
“Oh.” Annalesa didn’t know what else to say. She looked discreetly down at her phone—nothing from Ric yet and he’d been gone twenty minutes. Maybe the meeting was going better than he’d anticipated?
“Oh my heavens, would you look at him!”
Annalesa followed the direction of Elsa’s unsteady finger and saw a very good-looking guy at the bar, probably in his early thirties, with a nice, slim build. He looked like a midget compared to her Ric, but she wasn’t going to say that.
Annalesa shrugged. “He’s cute.”
“Go and talk to him!”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t need you to play cup—”
“Well, someone has to! How long have you been single? Too bloody long. Now go. Flirt. Do a little live social networking. Look, he’s smiling at you!”
Annalesa buried her face in her wine glass. She wasn’t interested in Mr. Skinny—and she didn’t want to get drawn into a conversation when Ric might text her any moment with an SOS. When she looked up, the guy had moved off to talk to a group of girls.
“For goodness sakes, darling.” Her mother looked irritated. “What is the matter with you? And don’t give me any nonsense about that lovely man being out of your league.”
Annalesa squirmed under her mother’s eagle eye, taking refuge once again in her wine glass.
“Darling, is there someone? Is there someone who’s making all these men invisible to you?”
She froze, not liking where this conversation was going. She was a terrible, terrible liar. Her mother squeezed her hand gently, which was so unusual, she looked up in spite of herself.
“I can’t say who.” Annalesa put her glass down. “It’s... complicated.”
“If you love him... do you love him?” Elsa studied her daughter’s face and Annalesa tried not to let anything show. “I’m just telling you—if you think he’s the one, don’t hold back. Don’t make the mistake I made with your father.”
It must have been the alcohol talking—Elsa never spoke about Annalesa’s father. He remained this mysterious figure who’d disappeared when she was still a toddler, and later died of cancer before she ever got a chance to meet him. She was intrigued.
“What mistake?”
“Lucien, your father—he pursued me. He practically worshipped me. But we were so poorly matched. I wanted adventure, excitement. I wanted a man who would take me and make me his—not a man who put me up on a pedestal and kept me there.” Elsa paused only to drain her wine glass. “It’s not always easy to follow your heart, but it’s the one part of you that really knows what it wants, Anna. I knew, when I met Brad—he made my blood race.”
“So why did you divorce him?”
“Because life is terribly complicated.” Elsa sighed. “And living with a man who makes you feel like you’re flying all the time... well, sometimes you end up crashing.”
The reference to crashing sent a shudder through Annalesa. She remembered, all too well, the night she nearly lost both her mother and stepfather in just such a crash. A literal one.
“But you still love each other,” Annalesa prompted, seeing her mother’s distant gaze. “I know you do. I can tell.”
“I’ll always love him.” Elsa turned and looked at her daughter, giving her a thin-lipped smile. “I care for Lucien, even now, wherever he is—because he gave me you. I wouldn’t give that up for the world. But Bradley has been, and always will be, the love of my life.”
“So why aren’t you together?” It was something Annalesa still couldn’t comprehend.
“Because I’m a fool.” Elsa turned her face away, blinking fast. She’d definitely had too much to drink, Annalesa realized. Her mother never spoke like this. “And I made a very impulsive decision—based on nothing. My own fears and insecurities, I suppose.”
It was like her mother was speaking in riddles.
Then Elsa turned to her, took both her hands, and looked earnestly into her face.
“Don’t let your fears hold you back, Anna.” Her mother squeezed her han
ds in hers. “If he’s the one, I don’t care who he is—you hold onto him. No matter what. You do whatever you have to do to keep him, if he’s the man for you. Do you hear me? Don’t make the same mistakes I made.”
Annalesa’s cheeks heated under the glow of her mother’s intense gaze. It was as if Elsa could see right into her soul and it almost seemed like she was being given silent, coded permission to go after her stepbrother. Her ex-stepbrother, to be exact. Something small and panicky came to life inside her—did Elsa know? Had Annalesa been indiscreet? Or could she simply never hide anything from her mother?
“Everyone makes mistakes,” Annalesa told her softly. “Brad seems... receptive. Maybe you two could make a go of it again?”
That wouldn’t be ideal for Annalesa, given her current relationship with her stepbrother, but she hated seeing her mother unhappy.
“Maybe we will.” Elsa’s eyes brightened and she gave her daughter a secretive little smile.
“Mum!” In her surprise, Annalesa forgot her promise to call her by her first name. “Tell me! Everything!”
Annalesa’s phone buzzed, making her jump. She got to her feet, trying to think of a good reason to dash off. Just when things were getting good!
“It’s all right, darling.” Elsa flapped a vague hand and smiled. “You run off before your drunk mum keeps going and gives you some embarrassing advice in the bedroom, too!”
“We’ll talk later.” Annalesa pecked Elsa on the cheek and headed for the meeting room. When she looked over her shoulder, she was relieved to see her mother accepting an invitation to dance. At least that would keep her occupied for a while—if she could stay on her feet.
When she got to the Sorcerer room, the door was ajar—only by an inch or so. In the middle of a room painted a dark mauve, Ric sat squeezed between two women—a redhead and a brunette—at a round banquet table big enough to seat ten.
The redhead had her hair in a chignon and looked to be in her early twenties. Annalesa couldn’t see the brunette’s face. The brunette drummed her nails on the table, waiting for Ric to finish going through the document he was reading. Every now and again, he gave a little “hmm” and marked something on the paper.
Annalesa held her breath and pushed the door open another inch. The hinge didn’t squeak and the door moved silently across thick carpet. Nobody looked over. Annalesa let her breath go and checked her message from Ric again.
Be ready to come in, but not unless I’m directly insulted.
She couldn’t help wondering if her definition of ‘insulted’ was going to match up with his. Her tolerance was a bit higher.
Annalesa still couldn’t see the brunette’s face, but caught the little nod between the two women. They both undid a button at the top of their blouses. Annalesa gritted her teeth. So, that was their game.
The only thing that made this set-up look anything like a bona fide business meeting was the folder and papers all over the table, and Ric’s intent expression as he flipped to the back of the document he was reading.
Ric put the paper down with a chuckle. “Ladies, you’re going to have to add a zero to that figure.”
“No can do, big boy.” The redhead sighed regretfully.
“I’m sorry to waste your time, then.” Ric shrugged, starting to rise, but the brunette stopped him, a hand on each shoulder as she pushed him back into his chair.
“Whoa there,” Ric said, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender, but the brunette didn’t stop. Instead, she straddled him, making her intentions very clear. Ric didn’t stop her—but he didn’t touch her, either. Annalesa’s hackles rose and her hands clenched into fists.
“Honey, we’ve come here with a fixed budget,” the brunette cooed. “We go back to our boss with a higher figure than offered, well... he’ll have our asses.”
“Not my problem.” Ric shook his head, clearing his throat.
“Wouldn’t you rather have our asses?” the redhead purred as she moved in smoothly behind him, sliding a hand down the front of his shirt.
“Come on,” the brunette wiggled in his lap. “I’m sure we can come to some mutually acceptable agreement.”
Annalesa recognized their Maine accents and frowned. She felt rooted to the spot, seeing Ric’s eyes widen in surprise as the women kneaded and purred at him like two naughty kittens.
She wanted to be furious with him for not throwing them off and throwing them out, but he looked hunted, like he’d never had to deal with this kind of situation before.
And it occurred to her—maybe he hadn’t. Annalesa bit her lip, knowing he was caught between getting this contract at the right price for Ryker Arms, and not letting the ‘negotiations’ get out of control.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He watched as the woman in his lap undid his shirt buttons.
“Wow—that’s a lot of ink.” The brunette whistled at his build. “You’re a big, tough guy.”
Ric gave her a flat stare.
“I think he’s man enough,” the redhead said to her colleague, her eyes bright. “He’s got the balls to take a lower figure back to his boss. What do you say? Can you convince him the publicity for Ryker Arms would be worth the cost?”
“You’re crazy,” Ric insisted. “Ryker won’t have it.”
“But we want it.” The brunette straddling him wiggled some more and Annalesa heard his sharp intake of breath.
She tried desperately to get her feelings under control before she made a fool of herself. Her brain was going a mile a minute, trying to understand this scenario. Ric never referred to Brad as ‘Ryker’. And he probably didn’t need permission from anyone to say yes or no to whatever deal was being discussed.
So why was he doing this? He was acting surprised, but he hadn’t pushed them away or ended the meeting. Maybe—Annalesa felt her mouth go dry—maybe he wasn’t as shocked by their perverse behavior as he seemed. He’d been “Big Dick” for years—that had to have had an impact.
Maybe some small part of him actually relished being manhandled by these bitches. Why else wouldn’t he have thrown them out, already?
“Don’t you ever make deals on your own?” The redhead pouted prettily, her hands moving on his chest, underneath his shirt.
“Sure I do.” Ric pushed her hands away and folded his arms. “Would you two ladies mind? You’re not going to get anywhere with these tactics.”
Annalesa almost breathed a sigh of relief.
“Well, that’s a shame.” Rebuffed, the brunette slid off his lap, her movements stiff and annoyed. She stood next to the table, standing over him. “I didn’t want to have to go this route but... what would the ‘Big Man’ say if we told him that you were more interested in our tits than focusing on this deal?”
Annalesa’s fingernails dug into her palms and she clenched her fists to help keep her breathing quiet. She couldn’t believe he was putting up with this. Why? The only reason she could think of would be some sort of sting operation. He’d told her what these reps were like—maybe the ‘test’ he’d been talking about involved her being a witness to sexual harassment. If that was the case, Annalesa would have no problem recounting the details of his encounter with these two bitches. If they kept going the way they were, getting fired was going to be the least of their worries, and Annalesa might just end up in jail for assault and battery.
Ric got to his feet, buttoning his shirt, his face broadening into an irrepressible grin.
“What’s funny, big guy?” the redhead demanded, hands on her hips. She glared at him. No more kitten—all tiger now.
“I think you’d have a shock if you tried selling that story to my boss.” Ric chuckled.
“Really?” The brunette folded her arms, covering the cleavage that had previously been exposed in her low-cut blouse. “Well, I’ll let you in on a secret—I’ve known Ric Ryker for a very long time. I think I’m a better judge of his character than you are.”
“Is that so?” Ric smirked.
“He always
thinks the worst of people,” the brunette insisted. “And he’s weak. Trust me—if we push him, he’ll roll over.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. Literally.” The brunette gave a harsh little laugh. “I bet he’s five-hundred pounds by now.”
Red mist descended.
Annalesa burst into the room like a raging storm, making the redhead shriek and shrink back against the wall. Annalesa grabbed the brunette by her upper arm, whirling her around, almost flinging her across the room.
“Get away from him, you skinny slut!”
She put herself between the women and Ric, standing there like a barrier until it registered. These two had been talking about Ric as if he wasn’t there. It made no sense. Confusion numbed her. The brunette got her balance back and turned on her, furious—then astonished.
Annalesa could only stare, also speechless.
Skinny-slut was Jenny Goldman—if she still went by that name. She’d been blonde as a teenager. Brunette now, but still clearly an evil cow.
Annalesa looked up at Ric, whose delighted grin proved he was enjoying her display of total rage in his defense. The pieces that had been puzzling her clicked together.
This was no coincidence. This whole thing had been planned—staged. Had Ric introduced himself as someone else to these two? Had he played the part, knowing Jenny wouldn’t recognize him after his transformation?
The color drained from her face when she realized that they weren’t the only ones who’d been set up here. She’d been tricked too.
“Annalesa?” Jenny was the first to recover from her shock. “Since when are you involved in Ryker Arms?”
Annalesa gave Ric a scathing look. She wanted him to know that she knew. She understood exactly what was going on here. He’d orchestrated this little stunt because—why? Because he wanted to see her reaction? Make her jealous? Or was this what he’d been talking about when he said he might have to “test” their relationship.
She was tempted to slap his face and walk right out the door.