Entrapped: A Billionaire Romance (The ROGUES Series Book 3)

by Tracie Delaney

  “No, you go. You line up and fetch pizza.”

  I caught on to her idea fast, a ready denial on my tongue. I couldn’t remember the last time I stood in line for anything, let alone food. But refusing to do as she asked was exactly what she expected me to do, and by falling into the trap she’d set, I’d hand victory to her.

  Not fucking likely.

  “Darryl, pull onto the next street please and park outside Gianni’s.”

  Darryl did as I requested.

  I unclipped my belt. “What would you like?”

  Her eyes flared, and she cast a sideways glance at the line of people waiting to order pizza-to-go. “You’re going to stand out there in the cold and buy me a pizza?”

  The disbelief in her tone brought a secretive smile to my lips. Busted, Miss Landry.

  “Absolutely.”

  She bit the inside of her cheek, frowning. “Okay. I’ll have a Quattro Formaggi. Grams likes a Pugliese, and Aiden’s favorite is a Margarita.”

  “Got it.” I climbed out of the car. “Be right back.”

  14

  Catriona

  I peered through the window as Garen’s tall, imposing figure joined the end of the line, surprise at his unexpected actions rolling through me. I didn’t know the guy at all, but it struck me as a highly irregular occurrence that he’d wait in line for anything. I bet he hadn’t done anything like this since college, if even then. He had that air about him reserved for the super-rich. A click of their fingers, and their heart’s desire landed at their feet.

  The privacy screen deactivated, and I turned to find Darryl smiling at me in the rear-view mirror.

  “What’s your secret?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He twisted in his seat. “I’ve worked for Mr. Gauthier for quite a while now, and I’ve never seen him do anything like this.”

  “Like what?”

  “Stand in line in the freezing cold to buy pizza for a woman.”

  I snorted. “Don’t tell me. He’d send you?”

  “No,” Darryl replied. “He just wouldn’t do it. He’s a very… particular man, and the idea of his car smelling of greasy pizza, not to mention if any spilled on the upholstery.” He made a faux shocked face, then laughed.

  I chewed over that piece of information, the threads of an idea forming. A childish one, maybe, but I couldn’t resist. This man had stolen something that meant the world to me.

  Time for a little revenge of my own.

  Twenty minutes later, he returned to the car holding three large boxes, all stacked one on top of another. He slid inside the cabin and slammed the door. Settling them in the space between us, he narrowed his eyes at the lowered privacy screen then shot a glance between Darryl and me.

  “Darryl, please drive to Miss Landry’s home.”

  His voice was cold and sharp as glass. He pressed a button on the central armrest, and the dark screen cut off the front of the car from the back once more. I withheld a wince. Poor Darryl.

  “How do you know where I live?” I queried.

  He gave me one of those trademark smug looks, the kind that had my fingers twitching to slap it off his face.

  “Oh, Catriona.”

  I raised my eyes, a curt shake of my head letting him know what I thought of his unwelcome intrusion into my private life. But as the smell of pizza wafted over, my mouth watered, and the plan I’d formed while waiting for him came to the forefront of my mind.

  “Which one is mine?” I asked, opening the first box.

  Garen placed his hand on top, forcing the box closed again. “It’ll stay warm until you get home.”

  I grinned. Darryl’s assessment was spot-on. Gauthier couldn’t bear the idea of the smell of greasy pizza lingering as he traveled in his over-priced limo. Time to push the limits.

  “It’s been almost twenty-four hours since I ate anything, and that’s your fault. I feel sick, and I have the beginnings of a headache, which always happens when I don’t eat regularly. One slice, just to take the edge off.”

  He shot me a scowl, his mask slipping for a fleeting moment before he schooled his expression.

  “You could have eaten breakfast before coming to my office, and you have a cell phone. You should have called me.”

  “I was about to cook breakfast when you phoned this morning, but since you stamped your foot and demanded I leave immediately without letting me know you intended to lock me in a basement, I stupidly imagined I’d be able to grab something to eat at some point during the day. And…” I held up my hand as he opened his mouth to interrupt. “There is no cell phone signal in the basement, so I couldn’t call you or anyone else.”

  I felt like shouting “Gotcha!” at the expression on his face. He actually appeared on the verge of contrition. It wouldn’t last long, but I reveled in the minor victory.

  He furrowed his brow, rubbed it with the tips of his fingers, then slipped the third box from underneath the other two and handed it to me.

  “Here. Just be caref—never mind. Go for it.”

  I opened the box and bent my head, breathing in that unique and oh-so-good pizza smell. Picking up a slice, I took a huge bite, the juices from the sauce and the melted cheese dripping down my chin.

  “God, that tastes so good.” I chewed, swallowed, then wiped across my mouth. Grease from the pizza coated my fingers and, completely on purpose, I lightly touched his pristine leather seat.

  “Watch it,” he barked, grabbing a handful of napkins to rub the offending mark.

  “Oops, sorry,” I said without an ounce of regret in my tone. “How clumsy of me.”

  Gray eyes met mine, a dangerous glint darkening his irises. He knew I’d smeared grease on his upholstery on purpose. I held his gaze, challenging him into an altercation. I wanted to rile him, show him he couldn’t intimidate me—even if that wasn’t entirely true.

  A muscle ticked in his jaw, and then he wiped his hands, tucked the used napkins in the side pocket of the car, and turned his attention to the speeding scenery outside.

  “Enjoy your pizza,” he murmured.

  He said pizza, but I knew he meant victory. Enjoy your victory.

  I grinned, reveling in the minor triumph. “Thanks, I will.”

  Darryl pulled up to the curb outside my tiny house. Garen handed me the other pizza boxes.

  “Thanks,” I reluctantly said. “For the ride and the pizza.”

  He nodded curtly. “My driver will pick you up on Wednesday and take you all to the airport. Your passports will be hand delivered tomorrow. I’ll be in touch if I need anything before then.”

  I hesitated, wondering whether I should make a small concession, then changed my mind. Balancing the three boxes on my hip, I walked to the house. The sound of Garen’s car pulling away reached me, and when I glanced over my shoulder, he’d gone.

  Relieved to see Aiden wolf down the pizza and drink an entire glass of orange juice, I answered Grams’ questions about my day, but rather than tell her the blunt truth, I said that Garen had put me to work on a very important archiving role of crucial legal documents, which placated her somewhat.

  I still hadn’t divulged that our flight to Switzerland would be aboard a private jet, nor that Garen had opened up his home for us to use as long as we needed. Grams was an old-fashioned woman, and she’d instantly grow suspicious of the hidden cost of accepting such a generous offer.

  As was I. But this cross was mine to bear, not hers or Aiden’s. And from what I knew about Garen Gauthier, I’d pay a heavy price.

  15

  Garen

  “James, get in here.”

  Five seconds later, my executive assistant scuttled into my office, iPad in hand. “What do you need?”

  “The foreman of Docherty’s just called.” Docherty’s was the company I’d chosen to begin the ground clearing before the building work on the hotel could begin. “Apparently, there’s some unforeseen issue with the demolition permit. One of those damned goody-goodies from
Development and Building Services has showed up on site and has put a stop to the whole thing. The foreman has asked me to go down and sort it out.”

  James tapped on his screen. “You have an appointment with the mayor at two this afternoon. It might be worth bringing up the issue with him?”

  I shook my head. “Last resort. I don’t like using my contacts for trivial matters. Experience has taught me they’re less likely to apply pressure when it’s really needed. Besides, that’s more wasted time.”

  “I’ll cancel your morning appointments then.”

  “Thanks. Oh, and can you call Miss Landry and tell her to meet me there? Maybe a little female persuasion might help the situation.”

  James grinned. “I’ll contact her right now.”

  A warm feeling circled in my gut at the thought of seeing Catriona. Tomorrow she’d head off to Switzerland, and I wouldn’t see her for six days. I didn’t like that idea one bit, hence my request to James.

  I hankered to see her more than I ever had with any other woman. With my usual dates, I mildly looked forward to the evening, especially if we were on date one or two, but by date three, boredom would set in, and by date four, if they made it that far, I usually dumped them. I swore my growing obsession with Catriona was steeped in her hatred of me. For some unknown reason, that had jet-propelled my interest. Oliver would say that I found pleasure in the chase, not the capture. He had a point, but there was something more to my interest in Catriona that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. For now, I’d go along with it and have a little fun in the process.

  Gathering my things, I locked my computer and headed out. “Did you get hold of Miss Landry?” I asked James.

  “Yes. She didn’t sound too happy, but said she’d leave home now and meet you there.”

  A shiver of excitement trickled down my spine at the idea of being met with Catriona in a mood. Her anger turned me on.

  Darryl opened the car door as I approached, and I slipped inside. He set off smoothly into the traffic, and within thirty minutes, we’d arrived at the building site. Or what should be a building site by now, but thanks to Mr. Paper Pusher, the work hadn’t yet begun.

  I got out of the car and held up a hand in greeting to the foreman, then glanced around for Catriona. She was loitering outside her former ballet studio, her hand pressed to the front door.

  I strolled across. “Thanks for coming.”

  She met my smile with a glower. “I hope this is urgent. I have a lot to do before tomorrow.”

  My dick twitched at her cold response, and my smile grew. “I need you to break the habit of a lifetime and try to be charming.”

  Her scowl deepened. “What game are you playing now?”

  “No game. I got a call from my foreman. There’s a small issue with the demolition paperwork, and I want to see if your feminine wiles can unblock the impasse to allow the bulldozers to move in.”

  Her eyes widened, and her hands went to her hips. “Let me get this straight. You want me to help you so that you can flatten a business that my grandmother started forty years ago, working her fingers to the bone to afford the down payment?” She snorted. “Fix your own goddamn issues.”

  She barged past me. I snaked out a hand and caught her arm. “Hold up there, kitty cat. You agreed to do whatever I wanted in order to secure funding for your brother’s treatment. And I want you to do this.”

  “Why?” she whispered. “Why this? Do you have any idea how difficult it is just standing here knowing that soon, all this will be gone? Everything you see here, the blood, sweat, and tears that was put into these businesses, gone. And you want me to have a hand in that? You’re a monster.”

  I moved closer and loomed over her, my eyes narrowed in warning. “Call me what you like, but remember I’m also your boss. Now paint a smile on your face and come with me, or maybe I’ll recall the payment I made to that Swiss hospital.”

  Her mouth slackened, and she blanched. “You wouldn’t.”

  I smirked. “Try me.”

  Shifting my hand to her elbow, I drove her forward, each step feeling like a victory to me, and, undoubtedly, a penance to her. I didn’t understand why punishing Catriona brought me both pleasure and pain, or why I grew more addicted to that feeling every day, but I couldn’t seem to back away, even when I could see the hurt in her eyes and feel the sting of my demands flay her skin.

  The foreman saw us coming and removed his yellow hard-hat, ruffled his hand over the top of his head, and made his way over to meet us halfway.

  “Mr. Gauthier,” he said, thrusting out his large, calloused hand, evidence of the type of work he undertook.

  I shook it, then gestured to Catriona. “This is my associate, Miss Landry. Where’s the problem?”

  He jerked his chin in the direction where a guy in a suit holding a clipboard stood by a shop that had once been a hairdresser’s. I guided Catriona over to him. He straightened as we approached and smoothed a hand over his tie.

  “Mr. Gauthier?” he asked.

  I nodded curtly. “My foreman tells me we have a problem with the paperwork. Considering I oversaw that particular task, would you care to explain what that might be?”

  He removed a sheet of paper from his folder and handed it to me. “The date is smudged,” he said, pointing as if I needed help to see the fucking date. “You can’t make it out. Could be postdated for all I know.”

  Incredulous, I lifted my head and glowered at him. “Are you telling me that you’ve held up my men because of an ink smudge? Do you have any fucking idea how much a delay of an hour, let alone a half a day co—”

  “What Mr. Gauthier means to say,” Catriona said, cutting right across me, the unexpected interruption rendering me speechless—a damn rare occurrence. “Is that we’re very sorry about this error. Could we possibly cross that out and rewrite the date if Mr. Gauthier initials the change?”

  She bestowed a smile on the guy, warm and friendly, the likes of which I’d never seen, and hadn’t actually thought her capable of.

  Peter the fucking Pen Pusher shifted from foot to foot. “It’s highly irregular.”

  “But not impossible?”

  Catriona briefly touched his arm, and I swore she fluttered her fucking eyelashes, too.

  “If you could see your way to allowing this, Mr.…?”

  “Trenton,” he replied. “Frank Trenton.”

  “You’d really be helping me out, Frank. The smudge is my fault, you see.” She flashed an apologetic smile that smacked of fakeness in my direction. “Mr. Gauthier trusted me with a very important task, but I’m still learning. I don’t want to lose my job. If there’s any way at all…”

  She let the words trail off, peering at Trenton with a coy expression.

  “Well, I suppose.” He cleared his throat. “I suppose on this one occasion, I could allow it.”

  Catriona beamed. “Excellent.” She turned to me, her face switching from pleasant to blind anger. “Crisis averted, Mr. Gauthier.”

  She strode off before I could stop her. I quickly rewrote the date, initialed it, and handed it back to Trenton.

  “We good?” I asked.

  He peered at it, then reluctantly nodded. “This will suffice.”

  I had to bite my tongue not to call him a fucking time-wasting prick. Instead, I yelled over to the foreman. “We’re a go,” then set off jogging in the same direction Catriona had gone. I caught up with her after a half a kilometer. Damn, the woman moved fast.

  “Where are you going?” I asked, marching alongside her.

  She slid to a halt and jabbed a finger right in my collarbone. “Don’t you ever do anything like that to me again.”

  I smirked. “Why would I not, when you’re so good at it? The flirting was a master stroke.”

  She stared at me, incredulous. “Fuck you. That place means more to me than mere bricks and mortar. It’s full of memories, of fun times and sad times. Of triumphs and tribulations. Of love and laughter. All the things a fre
ak like you wouldn’t understand. And yes, I know my beloved studio now belongs to you, and I know what your plans are, but to ask me to help you remove an obstruction that means in a matter of minutes, a bulldozer will smash through something that’s been a part of my life for as long as I can remember, is a new low, even for you.”

  My lips flattened. “And yet you did it anyway.”

  “Because you gave me no choice!” she exclaimed. “You threatened to withdraw financial support for my brother’s cancer treatment.”

  I expelled an irritated huff. “That was a joke. For Christ’s sake, I wouldn’t have actually done it.”

  She flexed her jaw, a nerve beating furiously in her cheek. “You are unbelievable.”

  “Thanks.” I flashed her a grin that I intended to double up as an apology.

  She opened her mouth, then closed it again, shook her head, and set off walking at a clip.

  “Wait, I’ll take you home.”

  “Don’t bother,” she threw back over her shoulder. “I’d rather crawl there on my hands and knees than spend one second in a car with you.”

  I watched as she rounded the corner and disappeared. Hmm. Not my finest hour. Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to ask her to help me with this particular issue, even if her reaction was completely over the top.

  I spun around and headed back to my car. She’d get over it.

  16

  Catriona

  By the time I reached home, I expected my anger to have receded, and my heart to beat in a normal rhythm, yet when I pushed open my front door and entered my sanctuary, anger had grown into blind rage. How dare he! And to act all innocent, as if he hadn’t done it on purpose. Pah! He’d known exactly what he was doing.

  Why did he enjoy punishing me? He made it pretty obvious he gained huge pleasure from my anguish, but other than originally refuse to sell my business to him, what had I done to deserve such harsh treatment?

  And then, like a pin stuck into a balloon, my wrath withered and died. I had so many other more important things to give my attention to over the coming weeks and months, not least of which was ensuring Aiden got through his upcoming treatment. I hadn’t underestimated how hard it would be for him. Leaving all his friends behind, moving to a foreign country for up to six months, being schooled by a tutor rather than in a classroom with teachers he was familiar with, not to mention the fear that the treatment might fail and leave him riddled with cancer.