by Anise Storm
The silence was deafening, as it had been since the moment she’d left. Sometimes while sitting alone in his office, he’d take a deep breath and swear he could still smell her perfume lingering in the room. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment that his feelings for her had changed, but now they consumed him.
Arthur Remington made sure to mention how pathetic his grandson was becoming each time Thaddeus saw him. Not wanting to be subjected to the questions and ridicule, he’d spent the Christmas holiday alone in New York City, instead of under constant scrutiny at the palatial Remington Estate.
Martin and Isaac no longer mentioned Hannah’s name around him like they had the first few weeks. Eventually they’d realized it was better to let sleeping dogs lie. Perhaps they were right.
At least he had been considering the validity of their advice until the night of the party. “Fuck.” That night was supposed to have been about business. Remington Industries had hoped to land the Anderson account, and he’d spent the better part of two days with Ronald Anderson. To cap off what Thaddeus had been sure would be a future sale, he’d attended the small party being hosted by Ronald.
Even before he’d come upon her, Thaddeus had sensed her presence. He’d almost dismissed it as a figment of his imagination, since he’d often thought he’d heard or seen her. So many women had reminded him of Hannah until they turned around. Each time the realization had sunk in that it wasn’t her, the pain in his chest had spread.
What the hell is happening to me? Thaddeus could never answer that question. Four months ago he had been an eligible bachelor with women hanging on his every word. He hadn’t given a single thought to settling down with one woman. He had been more like Arthur, charming women into his bed only to leave them alone the next morning. Maybe this was some sort of retribution for his man-whore ways.
Raking his hands though his hair, Thaddeus scowled. He had wanted her from the moment he’d first laid eyes on her. Hannah didn’t even know he’d purposely had her assigned to his floor, more specifically to him, after he’d watched her leave orientation. Because her experience was limited, she was initially supposed to have been assigned to a lower-level executive.
Something had drawn him to her, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out. Most secretaries were there on a purely temporary basis. After watching her from the corner of his eye, he’d figured that if so, she might as well spend her limited time with him.
Thaddeus hadn’t thought it would take much effort to seduce her, especially after he’d reviewed her employment application. She hadn’t been married, not that it would have mattered to him. Hannah had been ripe for the picking—or so he’d thought. He could still remember her first few days. He would sit in his office, gazing at her and picturing all the things he would do to her if given the chance.
‘Can I help you with something, Mr. Remington?’ she would turn in her chair and ask.
Thaddeus had been so fucking arrogant. While that to-do list had written itself in his mind, she’d turned back to her work. He even remembered the first time he’d made her blush. From that day forward, he’d known he was getting to her, even though she’d tried to act like she wasn’t affected.
Purposely toying with her, he had flirted and dropped innuendos throughout the day. It had become so common that he’d made sure to have time cleared on his schedule. Nothing had prepared him for the night he’d first seen her at Nirvana, though. Despite the fact she had been with another man—and a Dominant one at that—every sordid plan he’d had for her had started to fall into place. Thaddeus’ obsession with his sexy secretary had only grown.
Once he’d fucked her, it had been inevitable that he’d want to again and again. His thirst for her had been barely quenched. In hindsight, he’d realized he should have had Hannah reassigned in the days that followed. Keeping her there—in his view, mere steps away—had only fed his desire for her. Day after day at the office seeing her…unable to touch her…unable to fuck her…had been pure torture for him.
Thaddeus couldn’t erase the vision of her face as she’d climaxed for him or the feel of her mouth wrapped around his cock. In fact, his need for her had gotten so bad he’d ended a meeting with Isaac and Martin early and had taken her right there in his office. If being at Remington wasn’t reminder enough, the pair of ripped panties in his desk drawer was.
“Pull it together, man,” he muttered. She doesn’t fucking want you or what you have to offer.
She did, though. Hannah had responded to him that night in the elevator. She’d practically melted in his arms and, when he’d kissed her, she’d returned it. If she wanted me like I wanted her, then why did she walk away from me again? That was the million-dollar question and the reason he’d returned to Manhattan.
He had to find out why she had been there. Once he finally found her, he would think of some way to get through to her. His declaration of love hadn’t worked and neither had his proposition. Thaddeus figured the odds were there was just one more chance. He was determined to make sure the third time was the charm.
His phone rang, breaking the moment, and he answered. A few days earlier, Thaddeus had hired an investigator to help track down his girl.
“Hey, Bob, what did you find?”
There was a rustling sound then the investigator replied, “No one there seemed to know Hannah Brinkley. I’m sorry, Mr. Remington.”
Thaddeus felt a sense of dejection, but he wouldn’t let it deter him. “Were you at least able to determine where she’d run off to?”
“Now, that,” the man responded, “I was able to do. Seems she took an overnight flight to London. At the time she made her reservation, she included her cell phone number on the booking. I’ll send it to you in a few minutes.”
“Thanks, Bob.”
When the investigator asked if there was anything else he needed at the moment, Thaddeus told him there wasn’t, and he hung up the phone. It would be no trouble at all for him to trace her phone and get an address. As another advertisement for Dick Clark’s Rockin’ Eve came on, he smirked. It looked like he would be ringing in the new year five hours earlier than planned.
Chapter Eleven
Christmastime had passed and, while thankful she hadn’t had to spend it alone, Hannah couldn’t quite shake the feeling something was off between her and Finley. On Christmas day, the two had woken up and exchanged gifts. She had given him a watch and was thrilled that he liked it. That relief was short-lived, however, after he gave her a pair of beautiful earrings. His entire mood had changed. Now she actually welcomed the housekeeper’s intrusions, if for no other reason than it gave her something to focus on other than the state of whatever it was she had with Finley.
Hannah returned to work at Tucker International and was pouring all of her attention into the Anderson account. She had learned a lot in her short time at Remington Industries and in the little bit that she’d helped Finley with Wetherall Communications. Both Brian Silverstein and Stanley Pritchard praised her for all her hard work on the project. It gave her a warm feeling to be needed again for something. Lord knew, Finley didn’t need her at home for anything but…
She stopped with that thought because she didn’t want to cheapen what they had. It wasn’t like she was an innocent party. Her thoughts immediately turned to that night in New York City. She had not yet told Finley she had not only seen her ex but had also kissed him. If she did, it would kill any chance she had of fixing whatever was wrong with Finley. The man was still a mystery to her after all these years. One minute he was waxing poetic on a carriage ride through the city and the next, he couldn’t even stand to be in the same room with her. Men, she thought wryly.
She wasn’t going to dwell on the negative. She had just heard this afternoon that Ronald Anderson had accepted Tucker International’s proposal, so there was a lot to celebrate. She stopped by a local pub on her way home, then sent a text message to Finley to tell him where she would be. Now, she was sitting at the bar, waiting
on him to arrive.
“What are you drinking, miss?” the bartender asked, stopping in front of her.
She intended to have a glass of champagne when Finley arrived but since he wasn’t here at the moment, she smiled and responded, “I’ll take an ice water for right now.”
The bartender nodded then filled up a glass with water. She thanked him then glanced down at her watch to check the time. Finley was late, which wasn’t like him at all. Hannah didn’t want to freak out over fifteen minutes, though, so she simply chalked up his absence to traffic. She would give him another ten or fifteen minutes before she went home.
Her cell phone chimed and she expected it to be Finley. Instead, it was Stanley Pritchard.
Great job on the Anderson account. We could’ve never landed it without you.
A wide grin spread across her face. It felt so good to finally be working again, and even better to have her efforts rewarded. It wasn’t that she hadn’t gotten praise for her performance at Remington Industries. She’d just always wondered how much of it had been attributed to her relationship with the CEO. At least at Tucker International, there was no chance of anything romantic happening with either of her bosses. She shuddered just thinking about it.
“Hey, baby girl. I’m sorry I’m late,” Finley said, coming up behind her. She turned just in time to get a kiss from him. “You could’ve gone ahead and ordered yourself a drink.”
Hannah smiled at him. “That’s okay. I just got here a few minutes ago myself. So how was your day?” she asked him. He growled low, and she grimaced. “That bad?”
“It wasn’t a bad day, just a hectic one,” he started to explain. Then the bartender arrived again. “I’ll take a water, also.”
“A water, Sir?” she asked. Something about Finley was definitely off. On one hand he had said he’d had a bad day, but, on the other hand, she didn’t feel right bragging about her accomplishment while he was so surly. Maybe he’d feel better after he relaxed. “So, do you want to tell me about it?”
He nodded at the bartender, grabbed the water then turned toward her. Hannah could see how distracted he looked, just being there. She felt like a tool for automatically assuming he wanted to go anywhere tonight. Flashing an apologetic smile at him, she opened her mouth to speak but stopped when his phone began to ring.
“Wetherall,” he snapped at whoever was on the other end of the line.
Hannah realized then that he was being much nicer to her. Maybe his current attitude was because of work, after all?
“How long did they say it would be until we know?” There was a moment of silence then he cursed. “Fuck. Just keep me posted.”
Finley hung up, and she placed her hand on his arm. “Would you rather just go home? I don’t—”
He cut her off before she could even finish her sentence. “No, you said a celebration was in order and some good news would be very welcomed right now.”
“Okay,” she said, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. “At work, I’ve been busy with—”
Interrupted once again, she sighed softly as he snatched his cell phone off the bar. Hannah winced, knowing whoever it was would be subjected to another verbal lashing. It reminded her of the few times Remington Industries would lose an account. Thaddeus would have been just as upset, if not more so, than Finley was now.
“Lay it on me,” he demanded into the phone.
Hannah sat there, watching the large vein on his forehead pop out. Finley was getting more upset by the minute, and she wished she understood what to do to make him feel better. Deciding it best to mind her own business, she took a sip of her water.
“Bloody hell. Okay, find out then let me know.”
Again, he smacked his cell phone onto the bar top. To her surprise, though, he pulled her close. When their mouths touched, she immediately parted her lips, allowing him entry inside. Finley deepened the kiss and she swayed toward him. Her hands went to the arms of his suit jacket just as his phone rang again.
Pulling away, she held back her sigh and motioned toward the iPhone. “Go ahead and take it, Sir. It’s okay.”
Chapter Twelve
Thaddeus had tracked her cell phone to a one-block radius in London. It was just his luck that it was a very populated city block. She could be at any number of establishments, and he decided to just walk around to see if he spotted her. They had spent quite a bit of time together in Atlanta before everything had blown up in his face. Surely she hadn’t changed that much since then.
The cab pulled up to the curb, and he rubbed his hands together as soon as he stepped outside. It was a cold evening, at least compared to what he was accustomed to in Georgia. He started to walk down the block, seeing his breath in front of him each time he exhaled. He just hoped when he did find Hannah, they would go somewhere warm afterward.
It was presumptuous to assume Hannah would willingly go anywhere with him because she hadn’t been too inclined to so far. It was just that he had to believe there was still some hope remaining for the two of them or else the trip was for nothing. He couldn’t accept their relationship was over. He wouldn’t accept it.
As he looked at the different businesses, the quaint pub caught his eye. A few fingers of scotch would be great right now. Debating on whether to stop inside or keep going, he chose the first option. A small bell rang as he stepped in. It was then he came to a stop.
“Hannah,” he uttered. His eyes went from her to the man she was sitting beside, one whose mouth was planted firmly against hers. It felt like a knife to the chest, and when the two separated and Thaddeus saw who the man was, it was like the blade was slowly being turned. “Wetherall?”
Things began to make sense as to why Hannah had run from him in New York City. While he had been pining away for her in Atlanta, she had obviously moved on with her life. Suddenly, Thaddeus felt like the fool his grandfather had accused him of being.
And to add insult to injury, she hadn’t moved on with just any man. She’d done so with his sworn enemy. When did she meet him? How long have they been a couple? All of a sudden, the pieces of the puzzle started coming together. This wasn’t a new relationship. After she’d left him the first time and arrived in London, then all traces of her had disappeared. Now he understood why. She had been with Finley all along.
A sickening feeling filled him and he almost turned to leave. Then anger replaced any other emotion and he stalked over to the two of them instead.
Hannah was the first one to notice him, and her gasp was so loud it could’ve probably been heard outside. Finley turned to see what had upset her and his eyes narrowed. Snarling, Thaddeus looked right past his nemesis to the girl he loved. “We should really stop meeting like this, sweetheart.”
All the color drained from her face, and he saw her quickly look between the two of them. She opened and shut her mouth a few times, but no words came out.
Finley wasn’t as speechless. “What the fuck do you want, Remington?”
He chuckled sarcastically but never took his eyes off Hannah. “It sure as hell isn’t you, Wetherall. My business is with Miss Brinkley. The charade is over for you both.”
“Thaddeus, please, can we—” Hannah started to say before the ringing of Finley’s cell phone stopped her midsentence.
Finley didn’t answer it, instead watching the two of them.
Thaddeus stepped closer to Hannah and, in that moment, all feelings of desire he had turned to disgust. “I should’ve been wary when you moved from Plano to Atlanta then immediately got hired on at Remington with next to no experience. I bet the fact you were working directly beside me was a stroke of luck from your perspective.” He dropped his voice a few tones lower before continuing. “Tell me, sweetheart. Did you get a bonus for fucking me?”
Smack!
It took a few seconds for him to realize she had slapped him. He tipped his lips in a feral grin and ignored the burning sensation on his cheek, turning to Finley.
“You’ve sunk to a new low this
time, Wetherall. I—” Thaddeus started in on him then his own cellphone started to ring. Recognizing the ring tone as Martin’s, he pulled it from his pocket. “What is it, Breaston? Now isn’t a good time.”
Martin’s response only made things worse. Remington Industries had lost the Anderson account.
“That can’t be,” he said and tried to strain to hear what else his partner was saying. Thaddeus finally moved toward the door, away from the sounds of the bar and nearby kitchen.
A few seconds later, Finley stormed past him and Thaddeus saw him pacing in front of the pub. He almost wondered whether Wetherall was receiving the same kind of call that he was. Finley grimaced and appeared angry. It looked like Wetherall had definitely received bad news, too.
As Martin continued to rattle on about determining who’d undercut their proposal, Thaddeus tried to take solace in the fact that it wasn’t Wetherall Communications this time, but he couldn’t. Glancing at the bar, he saw Hannah there with her head in her hands. He could tell she was crying. Being caught in the act sure did have a way of ruining an evening.
Knowing Wetherall the way he did, Thaddeus wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t kick Hannah to the proverbial curb now that her cover had been blown. Still disgusted, he put the phone back in his pocket once Martin had hung up, then he moved back to the bar.
He had hoped to get another few words in when Finley came back inside. The expression on his face mirrored how Thaddeus felt.
“The account I’ve busted my ass on for months fell through,” Finley said.
“I-I’m sorry,” Hannah managed to stammer. Tears streaked down her face while she looked between the two men. Then she stared directly at Thaddeus. “And I know how this appears, but I promise you—”