by Anne Leigh
Copyright © 2016 Anne Leigh
This is an e-book property of Anne Leigh. All rights reserved, unless permitted by the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. This cannot be reproduced, stored, transmitted, or copied in any way, shape, or form, without the permission of the author.
All rights reserved.
This novel is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to peoples living or deceased is purely coincidental. Names, pigments, and characters are figments of the author’s imagination. The author is NOT affiliated with real life sports commissions/organizations, rules, regulations, and international governing bodies.
The author respectfully acknowledges all registered trademarks and owners of trademarked products that may have been included in this work of fiction.
Cover: Mae I Design
Interior Design: Allusion Graphics, LLC/Publishing & Book Formatting
Editing: KMS Editing
ISBN-13: 978-1533437259
ISBN-10: 1533437254
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Other Books by Anne Leigh
About the Author
“Mr. Lockheed, your ten o’ clock appointment is here,” Claire, my secretary, called from her desk. She’d been in my father’s accounting firm since I was thirteen, which would make her as old, maybe even older, than the vintage wine I’d been eyeing to swipe from my father’s wine room. She was his most trusted employee.
“Bring her in,” I replied, shaking my head at the amount of paperwork I had left to review. Everyone thought being the big boss was all about the business lunches, the travel, and the newsworthy mergers. To actually get through those lunches and mergers and be successful, I actually had to possess some intelligence. I knew how to work the deals and dole out stats and numbers; I’d been trained by the best – my father.
I heard the glass door to my right open, and the sound of the loud banging when it closed made me shoot to my feet.
What the hell?
“Xavier Lockheed, you jackass! You have to stop this!” Her screeching voice should have made my balls wither in shame, but in fact, they did just the opposite.
Not wasting another second to catch a glimpse of her murderous beauty, I loosened my blue silk tie and strode forward.
God, her lavender scent filled the room.
My mouth was watering, yearning for her to come closer so I could lick her from the top of her head, which barely reached my shoulders, to the bottom of her feet.
I wondered what her chosen color of nail polish was for the week.
Last week it had been orange with some white polka dots. I’d gone to bed dreaming I was sucking on those toes, and when I’d woken up I sent her a quick text. Shorty, your polka dotted toes undo me.
She’d responded quickly with, Stay away from me, jerk-off! And I did just that – jerked off to the images of her toes digging into my back and her fiesty mouth slapping hard against my own.
“This is harassment! Stalking to the extreme!” Those bow-shaped lips kept moving, her hazel eyes firing torpedoes at me, and her hands clung to the shapely hips I couldn’t wait to wrap my hands around.
When did she get taller?
Looking down, I eyed her red peep toe shoes. They had about three inches on the heels.
Oohh, were those yellow stars peeking at me from her tiny toes? When would she ever stop trying to seduce me?
The ringing on my desk interrupted her tirade; at least the phone’s volume was slightly louder than her raised voice. I ignored the ringing. Nothing was more important than the tiny woman in front of me, her chest heaving and the top buttons of her light cream blouse threatening to pop off at any minute because the gorgeous beauties should never be restrained by a bra. Well, for public safety - yes. But when it was just her and I, I could sleep in the comfort of those pillowy soft tits forever.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Claire’s approaching form. I already knew what she was going to tell me.
Reaching my screaming banshee’s side in less than a second, I gripped her at her waist and whispered, “Sweetie, I need to be in a meeting. Can we continue this foreplay later?”
She was about to say more when I locked her lips with my assaulting tongue. God, I missed her. Her taste. The way she responded to my – a loud smack on my cheek rattled me back to reality.
Claire’s eyes were round as saucers as she took in the scene before her. She’d been a witness to the number of times Nalee had been in my office, but Claire seemed like she was still shocked every single time.
Not meeting my eyes, Claire announced in between swallows, “Sir, the client’s waiting for you in Conference Room B.”
Nodding my head, I hugged Nalee’s waist closer to me as she refused to look at Claire; her face turning pinker, her body trying to get away from my hold, but my grip was tighter.
If I didn’t have pressing matters to attend to, she’d be flat on her back right now, behind my desk, in my other office, where we were hidden from prying eyes.
“I’ll be there, Claire. Please give Ms. Henderson my apologies,” I lightly ordered, and Claire rushed out the door. I’d bet the vintage wine that she couldn’t wait to get out of the room.
Nalee moved her hands up, reaching for my tie, fixing it for me.
See, my lioness cared for me.
Just then, I felt the tie getting tighter around my dress shirt, almost choking me. I had to inhale through my nose so I wouldn’t lose air.
Her voice lowered, the strawberry scent of those lollipops she loved so much lingered on her breath, her mouth straightening into a rigid line as she said harshly, “Stay away from me, Xavier. I mean it. Stop ruining my life. We are done.”
And just like that, she loosened her hold on my tie, leaving me breathless. The look in her eyes was enough to render me speechless.
It took me a moment before I could say anything. “I can’t, Nales. I love you too much.”
A fleeting, longing emotion veiled her eyes, making them look darker, and softening her perfect features. It was as if she was in a battle with herself as her soft hand caressed my jaw. “We’re done.”
“Never,” I protested. Removing my hands from her waist, I grabbed her head and kissed her with all the emotions I’d stored for her. The fire that only she can stoke in me. Clinging to her mouth as my lifeline, I let my tongue caress her lips one more time. A harsh breath escaped her, and before I completely let go of her, I looked straight into her eyes. “You’re mine.”
Leaving her in my office was the last thing I wanted to do. But Lockheed and Associates didn’t thrive on its own without its head, so with as much muster as I could get, I fixed the short ends of her hair, the pixie cut that framed her face was getting longer and in a week she’d probably have it cut again. She hated her hair long. She’d said it was too much work. I’d merely said that
I liked her the way she was. And it was the truth.
“I’ll call you later,” I said. “The minute I get out of my meeting, I’ll call you.”
She lifted a shoulder and grabbed the purse that she’d set on my antique 19th century desk that was a complete contrast to my modern office. I loved that desk. It was her present to me when I’d formally been announced to replace my father’s position in the company. She’d looked embarrassed that it didn’t match the rest of the décor. She loved to shop vintage and she’d bought my desk on a whim.
“Xavier,” her voice cold, any warmth that I’d imagined from our kiss had completely faded away. “Please move on. I am…I have, for a while now.”
With those ice-glazed words, she ushered her way out of my office, and as her petite figure faded from my view, I felt the crushing beating that my heart took. She could slap me a hundred times, say “no” a thousand times, but I wouldn’t give up on her. Ever.
“We’ve gone over this for the third time. We need to centralize operations there so we can continue to lower the risk for our clients and adapt to the changing risk profiles,” Gary Corvez, Area Managing Partner for our U.S. firm and currently serving as the senior adviser to our biggest clients, stated his case.
He and Tori Birkhead have been sparring verbally over the video conference feed. Tori was based in London and it was obvious that she was not keen on Gary’s suggestions. She kept asking for the figures which brought us to now – the on and on, roundabout, endless cycle of going around the topic.
“I don’t necessarily disagree with you, Gary,” Tori shook her head. With a flick of her hand, instead of her image on the screen, graphs and percentages showed – this was going to be a long day. The rest of the Executive Board members were busy tapping away on their smartphones and computers. They knew that Tori and Gary were going to be sparring for a while.
Standing up from my leather reclining chair, I took in the view in front of me. Fisherman’s Wharf was always busy with tourists and locals alike. Nalee loved the clam chowder from one of the sidewalk stands. She’d finish the whole bread bowl filled with the creamy soup in one sitting and then she’d complain of a gut-ache an hour later. We would walk for almost two hours, going in and out of the stores, even if we’d been in them a handful of times. She always found something to buy at the store that sold products for left-handed people even when she was undoubtedly right-handed. She’d always say, “You never know when I will break my right hand, so I have to know how to manage with my left.”
That’s how Nalee was. Always thinking of what could happen so it’s best to prepare now. As an environmental scientist, it was her job to assess the threats to people and the environment. Always looking forward, finding solutions, and not giving up.
Why couldn’t you apply the same concepts to me, Nales?
I made one mistake.
One.
Somehow that one was equivalent to a thousand to her.
“Mr. Lockheed, what do you think?” Our managing partner in China, Xien Lao, asked. He sounded exhausted. I couldn’t begrudge that – he was working non-stop and he was great at what he did, but he never took vacations. His choice.
“I need a day to think this through,” I sighed and turned to face the 72-inch screen where five of my father’s most trusted partners awaited my verdict. They’ve seen me stand and pace during the meeting, but they knew I was listening.
“But –“ Gary objected as Tori said, “You have to decide soon.”
“I’ll let you know by close of business tomorrow,” I replied, feeling extremely tired. The meetings just never seemed to stop. But they were vital to the existence of this company. Jobs were at stake. People relied on me to not pull the company down the drain. Decisions had to be made.
Sensing a rebuttal from my Type A partners, I repeated, “Tomorrow. And have a good day, night, or afternoon, everyone.”
Turning off the video feed, my body sank back down to the chair, the burden of the responsibility thrusted upon me weighing heavily on my shoulders.
There was no room for error. Every single word that came out of my mouth affected someone. It was as plain as that.
This wasn’t the life I wanted. Far from it. So everything here – the massive building I was in, the millions of dollars entrusted to Lockheed Firm and Associates, the tug-of-war between partners and clients – they were not parts of my plan.
Sure, I’d watched my dad build his business from his home office to what now has become one of the premiere accounting firms in the world. I graduated with a Bachelors in Computer Design because that was what I loved to do.
The day I received the almost-pleading call from my father to take over the business was the day I both hated and loved. Hated because I knew I could run it without a doubt. I grew up training under him, all the summers I’d apprenticed under his wing, the endless hours I spent going through contracts only to have them glossed over by Dad and asked to be reworked again and again and again. He demanded perfection when all I wanted was to surf and ski. The part I loved about my dad calling me was that it was a solid recognition of his belief in me, of the possible decisions I was going to make which could make or break the firm.
An incoming text message from my phone alerted me back to the present.
It was from Danilo, the private investigator I’d hired to follow her.
She’s at Pauly’s.
Pauly’s? I loved the steak there.
Guess I know what I was having for dinner tonight.
“What do you like to do on your free time?” His brown gaze lingered on my chest for the hundredth time.
My boobs? They like to bounce around and be aired out on their free time.
Of course I couldn’t say that. If I did, he’d probably say, “Can you show me?”
“I like to spend time with my girlfriends whenever I can,” I replied, my eyes landing on the entrance of the restaurant was equal to the number of times my date’s eyes landed on my chest.
Bringing the wine glass to his lips, he said, “Cool.”
I was tempted to call Tanya in the middle of this date and ask her why she’d thought this guy was a good candidate. Tanya, my redhaired, over-the-top, looney girlfriend had been setting me up with guys since Xavier and I had broken up. I had no idea where she got these guys from, especially when they all looked like they came from the same catalog – model looks, pearly white teeth, and gym-hardened bodies.
“What is it that you do again?” I asked, silently hoping he would spend the next hour elaborating on his ambitions so I wouldn’t have to talk.
Why did I subject myself to this mental torture? Why did I go on date after date knowing that the only man who could satisfy me would be available at the drop of a hat if I said so? Why did I keep saying “no” when all I could think of was him?
As if on cue, the entrance to the restaurant opened and he walked in. At just over six feet, he was still wearing the dark blue suit from this morning, meaning he had come straight from work. He was the man who knocked the wind out of my lungs.
Xavier wasn’t bulky or muscular like Zander, John, and Dom. He was tall, lean in frame, and always looked carefree. And since he wore more suits nowadays, far from the t-shirts, board shorts and jeans from our college days, one couldn’t tell just how athletic and powerful his body was.
He didn’t skimp on his rigorous workouts. While my best friend, Sedona’s husband, was a reigning football champ, Xavier was committed to his sport – lacrosse. In college, he was one of the CSUF’s star players. His love for the sport was unblemished. He played because he loved it. A few months after we moved in together, I’d gone with him to watch him represent the U.S. International Lacrose Team in Canada and England. I had no idea what the hell lacrosse was until I dated him. It was important to him so I supported him in whatever he did.
If only he’d done the same for me.
It would only be a matter of seconds before he’d find me and my date, so I shifted my eyes b
ack to my date – a honey blonde-haired guy whose deep brown eyes matched the shirt he was wearing.
“…the best part about being a director is that I take command of the whole thing – the artistry, the pace, the way the story’s going to be depicted in front of the camera…so the viewers can connect with the characters.” A smile lifted from the corners of his mouth, his hand slowly grabbing another piece of the cheese focaccia bread that I ordered in dozens from this place because they were simply divine.
Holy shitskee! He’s a director?
“You’re a director?” I’d never met a director. Wow. I mean, he made movies happen. He yells “cut” to people and they obey. He made the magic of imagination come to life.
“Well, yeah…” he said, sounding confused, his brows slightly crinkled. “I thought I told you earlier.”
“I’m sorry, I had something on my mind.” More like someone.
Concedingly, I explained, “I truly apologize. I had a busy work day and I was trying to finish some things before meeting with you here –“
His gaze deepening, he raised a right hand and brought it to his chest. “I’m hurt. You haven’t been paying attention to me…”
“I, ahh, am so sorry. It’s been super crazy lately and I’m juggling a lot and…”
Without censure in his laughter, he waved his right hand. “It’s okay, Nalee. It’s really okay. I understand. I deal with a lot of noise too, and trust me, I would have probably been doing the same thing if you weren’t such a beautiful woman.”
My cheeks started feeling like heated butter; he was putting on the charm and boy, did I feel it this time.
Now I knew why Tanya had set me up with him. He was not only handsome, he was also charming – once I started actually paying attention to him.
Taking a sip from my champagne glass, I decided that today was the day I would open myself up to possibilities. Had I totally missed out on great guys like him because I was hung up on the one guy who only wanted me on a superficial level? Had I closed myself off to the opportunity of experiencing new things, because as much as I had been denying it, I wasn’t completely over him?