Outmatched: A Novel

by Kristen Callihan

  Rhys’s head came up, and I caught a flash of undiluted desire in his eyes before he crushed his mouth down over mine again. He drank in my moans as his fingers played and pushed me toward climax. I’d never felt anything like it. Such desperate need.

  “Oh, Jesus Christ, sorry!”

  We froze at the unexpected voice, and Rhys lifted his head to meet my devastated gaze.

  No!

  I was so close!

  The muscle in his jaw flexed as he turned his head toward the doorway. I reluctantly followed suit and saw my sister standing there, lips trembling with laughter, eyes averted.

  Oh my God, someone kill me now.

  “Uh, your boss and Fairchild are looking for you. I’ll tell them”—laughter bubbled in her words—“you’ll be out in a few minutes.”

  The door closed behind her and with it a cold, hard splash of reality.

  I saw it on Rhys’s face.

  “Shit.” He pulled away from me in every way, and my body protested at the deeply empty, unfulfilled feeling. “Oh fuck.”

  Hurt by the raw regret on his face as he got off me, I scrambled to push the hem of my dress down. I lowered my gaze as I swung my legs off the sofa, unable to meet his eyes.

  “That shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry. I was pissed at Fairchild and you were acting—”

  He cut off when I scowled up at him. “Acting like what?” I said.

  Rhys glowered. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know how you were acting.”

  “I don’t know how I was acting. Enlighten me.” I stood and crossed my arms over my chest, feeling the burn of unsatisfied lust heat my temper.

  “You know how you were acting.” He dragged his gaze down my body and back up again in a way I did not like. “But you certainly forget all about that when I put my hands on you. Fuck, sweetheart, you light up so hot, I was just along for the ride. You like that for your society boys, or does slumming it get you off?”

  Pain flared in my chest, an ache so deep I stumbled back from him, ignoring his flinch.

  “Parker—”

  I held up a trembling hand, glaring at him so hard, it was a wonder his head didn’t explode from the power of my angry, angry mind. In fact, I was so furious and so hurt, I couldn’t speak. I strode past him, sliding my hands down my dress to smooth it, before turning my attention to combing my hair into some semblance of order.

  “Tinker Bell—”

  I whirled around just before I got to the door, not caring at the remorse I saw written all over his face. “Go fuck yourself, Rhys.”

  Instead of the surprise I thought I’d see on his face, I saw something else. A glitter of light in his eyes as he moved toward the steps that would lead him up to me. “I think we both know I’d rather fuck you.”

  Ignoring the thrill that shot through me, I held onto what he’d said, to the derision in his voice just a few seconds ago. “So you can add me to all the notches on your belt? I’m not a challenge. I’m not an opponent. And I—” Stupid tears burned my eyes that I determinedly tried to blink back.

  “Tink …” Rhys made to move toward me.

  “Don’t.” I lowered my gaze so he couldn’t see how much he’d hurt me. “This is done. I’ll pay you for the month, but this is done.” Tears successfully pushed back, I lifted my chin, my expression flat. “No job is worth someone making you feel this badly about yourself.”

  He scowled. “Yeah, you’re right, it isn’t. Pot meet fucking kettle.”

  Confusion momentarily subdued my anger. “What—”

  “But we have a deal, and you’re not getting out of that deal.” He strode toward me, and I braced. Thankfully, he reached past me to pull open the door. “Let’s go talk to your bosses, and try not to act like you’re dying of embarrassment to have me at your side.”

  What on earth?

  “Rhys—”

  Footsteps sounded in the hall outside, and my sister appeared. “Uh, seriously, if you don’t hurry up, Fairchild is going to come looking.”

  Sighing in frustration, feeling like I was missing something with Rhys, I hurried after my sister and heard my fake boyfriend fall into step behind us.

  “Is my hair okay?” I whispered to my sister.

  She smirked at me. “Your hair is fine.”

  I was just about to sigh with relief when she continued, “But your mouth is most definitely swollen.”

  Heat bloomed on my cheeks as I touched my fingers to my lips.

  “Morgan, Parker, there you are!” Fairchild’s voice carried across the foyer. He gave Rhys a salacious smirk. “Those are private family rooms down there, but I’ll let you off since I know you’re a man with an appetite. I understand that.”

  Ugh.

  I shivered in revulsion and felt a comforting hand on my lower back. Glancing over my shoulder at Rhys, I wanted to move away. However, the unhappy look on his face stopped me. The man was a contradiction. I was completely discombobulated by him.

  No matter what he said, I had to end this deal. My feelings … well, my feelings were now involved, and after what just happened between us, I knew this man had the power to hurt me.

  Deeply.

  Nope.

  This game had to be over.

  “Jackson and I were talking, and I’ve decided to invite the Horus team and their partners to my lodge in Colorado Springs. I think”—his shrewd gaze landed on Rhys—“it’ll be a good way for us to bond as a team. And to make sure all team members feel like they’re an important cog in the wheel of Horus Renewable Energy. I’ll consider any team member who doesn’t decide to participate in this event a team member who doesn’t want to remain at Horus.”

  Rhys’s hand on my back pressed deeper, and I swallowed a howl of frustration. Fairchild’s words from earlier came back to me, words I’d forgotten when things heated up with Rhys.

  “Perhaps you can convince him not to be a fool and accept this invitation.”

  Oh my God. Fairchild was so goddamn determined to get Rhys to fight, he was going to force us to spend the weekend in Colorado so he could persuade him.

  My eyes flew to Jackson who did not look pleased about our current discussion.

  “Well?” Fairchild’s gaze came to me.

  I hated him.

  I had never hated anyone other than the person who had left Theo on the side of that road, but right then, I hated Franklin Fairchild.

  Was my job important enough to push Rhys into doing something I knew would harm him emotionally?

  Even after the horrible argument we’d just had, I couldn’t do it.

  “I don’t know if we’ll be able—”

  “We’ll be there,” Rhys cut me off.

  My gaze flew to his, but he was studiously avoiding it.

  “Good.” Fairchild clapped Rhys on the shoulder. “I’ll give Jackson the details.”

  The jerk stalked off, happy with his wicked machinations, and as soon as he was out of earshot, my sister said, “Why do I feel like I’m missing something?”

  Jackson and I shared a weary look.

  We were all just flies caught in Fairchild’s net. Trapped by his whims.

  My boss turned his attention to Rhys. “It looks like you’ve made quite an impression on Franklin.”

  Yes, Jackson knew exactly what this “team-bonding” trip was all about.

  “Lucky fucking me,” Rhys bit out.

  I winced. “Easton, Jackson, I need a word with Rhys.”

  My sister threw me a concerned look, her earlier amusement gone now that she’d been witness to the tension with Fairchild. However, like Jackson, she murmured her assent and they left us alone in the foyer.

  “You don’t have to do it,” I said. “My job is not worth it.”

  Rhys’s gaze softened. “You are a contradiction, you know that, Tinker Bell?”

  Uh, what did he say earlier? Pot meet kettle. “How am I the contradiction in this scenario?”

  He didn’t answer. His expression grew taut. “I sh
ouldn’t have acted how I did or said what I said. I’m apologizing. It won’t happen again. Now, you’re paying me to help you keep this job, so we’re going to that lodge. Fairchild can bug me all he wants while we’re there about getting in that ring. Doesn’t mean I’m going to.”

  “But—”

  “It’s cool, okay?” He sighed. Heavily. “Can we get the fuck out of here?”

  Yes. Although I did not look forward to the car ride home with Rhys, I really, really wanted to leave. “Let’s go.”

  He frowned. “We’re not saying goodbye to your parents?”

  I blanched at the thought of having to lie again to their faces. “Uh, no.”

  And just like that, Rhys’s expression shut down. “Right,” he muttered, as if he’d tasted something bad.

  Confused, I could do nothing but follow him as he marched out of the house to collect his car.

  He didn’t say a word to me the entire drive back to Boston.

  Not one word.

  His anger toward me was obvious.

  The reason for it, not so much.

  My irritation grew as we neared the city.

  And when I got out of his car, I slammed the door so hard, his car shuddered. I heard him cursing behind the wheel.

  Smirking with a small kind of satisfaction, I hurried into my apartment building. Yet my satisfaction died as soon as I got in the elevator and replayed the last few hours.

  Easton’s words from earlier rang in my ears.

  “Why do I feel like I’m missing something?” I murmured.

  Fifteen

  Rhys

  * * *

  There was nothing worse than being stuck on a plane next to a woman determined to give you the cold shoulder. Oh, I deserved it. There wasn’t any doubt. Yes, I’d been disappointed in Parker’s clear horror over her family thinking she was dating me. But instead of shutting down, I’d been a dick in return—a huge, massive dick. I was ashamed of myself.

  Thing was, I couldn’t actually say what I wanted to say while stuffed into a seat that was about ten sizes too small for my frame and surrounded by dozens of other passengers practically on top of me. I knew Parker well enough to realize she’d be mortified if I talked about her personal life in front of strangers.

  So, I waited, all the while acutely aware of Parker at my side. Aware of the way she smelled—like smoky roses and warm vanilla—of the way she made those constant little noises of discontent. Weirdly, they sounded a lot like the noises she made when she kissed me, and I didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. Regardless, the memory gave me wood. Which was uncomfortable as fuck.

  We maintained stiff silence all the way to Aspen, and again in the rental SUV. It was unnerving. I didn’t need to talk to people. I’d always been happy to keep to myself. And yet here I was, needing Parker to talk to me. I missed her spirit. I missed her voice.

  “We’re almost there,” I told her in a sad attempt to start a conversation.

  She hummed under her breath—a sound that could mean anything from “Yes, we are” to “Fuck off and die, Rhys.”

  Twitching in my seat, I drove us down a private road that seemed to stretch on forever. Despite the tension inside the car, the outside scenery was spectacular. Craggy, dark gray mountains with snowcapped peaks stretched toward a clear blue sky. Amidst the evergreens, aspen trees punctured the landscape with their ghost-white trunks and lacy golden leaves. It was all so beautiful, it turned a dumb-ass like me into a poet. I’d smile at that, but there was still the matter of Parker hating me.

  We crested a small hill and the house came into view.

  “Jesus,” I muttered under my breath.

  Parker leaned forward. “It’s quite impressive.”

  The first actual sentence she’d uttered in at least three hours. A downright gift. And she wasn’t wrong.

  Fairchild’s lodge was a low-slung modern ranch mix of stone, logs, and peaked roofs. The center house split off into two main wings on either side. Smoke drifted from six chimneys as sunlight glinted off wide picture windows. It was beautiful.

  Envy never did anybody any good. And yet, in that moment, I felt it like an acid wash in my gut. I fucking hated that a sleaze like Fairchild owned this place and got to retreat here whenever he wanted. If there was any justice in the world, Fairchild’s home would reflect his insides and we’d be staring at a dank and empty cell instead of this grandeur.

  I swallowed my bitter hate and envy down and put on my game face.

  The drive led straight to a massive front door, where a young guy wearing pressed dark jeans and a collared shirt/sweater combo stood waiting. We’d had to pass three security checkpoints before getting to the main house gate a mile back. Apparently, in places like this, the rich owned whole mountainsides, and they didn’t share.

  The guy trotted up and held open the door for Parker. Another valet came around to greet me and take my keys. If I didn’t know this was a private residence, I’d think we’d arrived at a resort. It was big enough.

  “Mr. Morgan, Ms. Brown,” said Mr. Sweater. “I’m Andrew, Mr. and Mrs. Fairchild’s house concierge.”

  House concierge? Who knew?

  “As guests are still arriving.” He smiled, tight as a drum. “I’ll see you to your room and get you settled before drinks on the terrace at five. Would you like a mulled-cider cocktail while we walk?”

  A waiter in the same sweater-jeans combo—which apparently was some sort of bizarre uniform—appeared with a tray holding two steaming glass mugs. I almost laughed, but I didn’t want to hurt their feelings. Jesus, if I had to cater to Fairchild and his friends, I’d want to launch one of those mugs into the nearest face.

  At my side, Parker gave what I was now calling her polite public smile. I hated that smile.

  “If we could just head to the room, that would be wonderful, thank you.”

  At least we were on the same page when it came to the drinks.

  “Of course,” Andrew said. “Right this way.”

  The house was as beautiful as expected. That is, if you overlooked Fairchild’s decorating tastes. We entered a grand hall with a wall of windows overlooking the valley and two massive stone fireplaces on either side of the room. Two suits of armor holding spears flanked the doorway. I refrained from rolling my eyes.

  Every wall had weaponry and tapestries, and more suits of armor guarded the halls, as though we were in a castle in England instead of a resort in Colorado.

  Andrew yammered on about the lake, the heated indoor and outdoor pools, nature walks, movie room … I tuned out and watched Parker instead. I couldn’t help it. She was wearing jeans, and they hugged her ass like a second skin.

  Unbidden thoughts crashed in. Parker’s mouth devouring mine. Parker arching her back, her thighs spreading. Parker moaning my name when I slid a finger inside her. God, she’d been so damn tight. Wet. Hot.

  Nope. Don’t go there. Not now.

  Andrew led us to our room. As far as guest rooms went, it was the nicest one I’d ever been in. Like the rest of the house, it was a study of rough stone and dark woods. We had a corner room with two walls of paneled windows and a set of doors that led to a wide stone terrace. A large iron canopy bed dominated the far side. I kept my eyes off it.

  I knew Parker dreaded staying here with me. It was evident in every tight and unhappy line in her body. She stood to the side, looking out the windows as Andrew explained about how to work the fireplace, the electric blackout curtains, where the minibar was hidden. When he started in on what kinds of soap our en suite had, I cut him off.

  “I think we got the gist. We’re good now.” I gestured toward the door in an unmistakable sign of “Get the hell out.”

  “Of course,” he said, straightening his sweater—the one with aspen leaves knitted into the threads. Poor guy.

  “Thanks, man,” I said easier. But as soon as he left, I let my shoulders sag and leaned against the door to look at Parker. She hadn’t moved from her spot by the win
dows.

  Remorse cut into my gut with sharp blades.

  “Parker—”

  “At least it’s a king bed.” She didn’t look at the bed, though. She kept her eyes away from the entire room. “I’d hoped for a little loveseat, but I don’t think I can curl up on those armchairs. I’m small but not that small.”

  There were two chairs set up by the French doors. She’d contemplated sleeping on them. It didn’t matter that she was ashamed of me meeting her family; I’d become something petty and small when I’d lashed out and made her feel this way. As for myself, I felt about two inches tall.

  “Parker,” I said again, this time sitting on the bench at the foot of the bed so we’d be eye to eye. “I’m sorry. All right?”

  Her gaze stayed unfocused as she nodded. “It’s fine. Things were said …”

  “No.” I took her hand and found it cold. Unacceptable. Holding it between both of mine, I softened my voice as best I could. “I was a fuc—a jerk. I shouldn’t have said those things, making you feel cheap. It wasn’t true and I didn’t mean them. It was a dic—It was wrong to do.”

  Parker’s lips wobbled with a smile. “Am I imagining things or are you attempting to refrain from cursing?”

  “Yeah, well …” I rubbed the back of my tense neck but kept hold of her hand with my other one. “It seemed like a good way to show my sincerity and respect for the situation.”

  Her smile finally bloomed, and I swear it was like the sun coming out of clouds. Hell. I was a fuck—freaking mess.

  “Just when I finally start cursing, you’ve gone and stopped.”

  It felt good to grin. “Well, that’s different.” I tugged her a little closer. “You letting go and cursing is sexy as he—heck.”

  Her laughter sparkled over my skin and lifted a weight off my heart. “As heck, huh?”

  “Heck, yeah.”

  Laughing softly, her gaze clashed with mine. Heat bloomed under my skin, and I drew in an unsteady breath. God, I wanted to hold onto her slim but curvy hips, cup her fine ass and give it a squeeze.

  No. I couldn’t do that. We had undeniable chemistry, but we’d never work in the real world. Not when she couldn’t even introduce me to her family without looking like she was about to throw up.