Dirty Rich Obsession

by Lisa Renee Jones

  “Is that what you think I was doing?”

  “Isn’t it?” I challenge.

  “Because I told you I want you more than my hand?”

  I scowl. “Do you just say what comes to your mind or are you intentionally crass to me?”

  “If I said what was on my mind, you’d hear a whole lot more than that. Is that what you want? It can be arranged.”

  “Yes, please,” I say. “I prefer everything be on the table.”

  “Do you now?”

  “Yes. I do.”

  He’s silent for several beats that feel loaded for reasons that I am certain I do not understand any more than I understand my father’s recent decisions or even Reid himself. “I’ll be there in time for the meeting.” He disconnects, and I have no idea what just happened, but I know one thing. Reid knows more about me than I know about him and I already know that I can’t do that without help. I tried before the auction. He’s shielded himself and well, but I’m here. I am up close and personal, and I want to know who he is and what he really wants because it’s not what it seems. He said to trust my gut and that’s what my gut says.

  Chapter Nine

  Carrie

  I spend the rest of my afternoon preparing a report on the two projects I’ve been chasing and why. I feel like Reid might need this for the stockholder meeting tomorrow. For the staff, I prepare a speech that Reid may throw right out the door, but I practice delivering it with a positive presentation. I’m actually pacing my office, memorizing it when my door suddenly opens and Reid appears.

  “Did I hear a knock?” I ask, trying to cover up the way my damn heart races with his presence. He’s just so overwhelmingly male and so damn good looking.

  “No,” he says, stalking toward me. “You did not.”

  I resist the urge to take a step backward, standing my ground with Reid, knowing that I can’t allow myself to be his prey and survive this man. He stops in front of me, so close that anyone watching us would think we were intimate. We are intimate in ways I can’t escape and I’m not sure I want to when I should. He is not my friend. “You really want to hear what I think of you?” he asks, his voice a hard line that I cannot read.

  “Professionally,” I clarify. “Yes. If I knew you would really tell me the truth. I don’t like hidden agendas. I don’t like back-stabbing. It’s not who I am.”

  “And yet you want to be CEO of a company that thrives on back-stabbing and hidden agendas.” It’s not a question, but a statement.

  “You don’t have to win that way. You just have to be smarter and faster, and I would have been.”

  “When your father was not,” he supplies.

  I force myself to be direct. “When my father was not,” I concede. “And for the record, you were right. I should have known about Japan. I should have followed my own decision to see where it led.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Does it matter?” I challenge.

  “Yes,” he says, those blue eyes of his piercing. “It does.”

  “It was a book I thought was closed,” I say offering him the most unemotional answer possible.

  “It was painful,” he says his voice soft, but he doesn’t give me time to reject his assessment when I really can’t anyway. He sees the truth. “To be clear, I’ve told you what I think of you, but I get it. You don’t trust me.”

  “How can I? You took over my family business and now you control my entire life.”

  “You could walk away,” he points out.

  “But I don’t want to, and you know that which means you can use me and when this is over, I have nothing.”

  “I gave you a contract for a reason,” he counters. “So you don’t walk away with nothing.”

  “I get nothing if I fail.”

  “You won’t fail, but you want to feel my confidence in that statement. I’ll double your salary in back pay if this ends with you leaving, and yes, I’ll put that in writing. And as for trusting me. Use the instincts that made you see Japan for what it was. Wrong. Japan was a wrong move. I am not.”

  “I didn’t trust my instincts about Japan, remember?”

  “You should have. Your instincts were right, but if you need facts to back up why I’m the right move for you, you have them. The stockholder meeting is public record. You’ll know what I say in that meeting, and in the end, you’ll see that it comes down to one thing. In all things, we want the same thing.”

  In all things, we want the same thing.

  Those words land between us and hang in the thickening air, heat rushing over me that I don’t want to feel. “Do we?” I challenge, fighting this incredible urge to sway toward a man who is probably my enemy, a wolf who doesn’t bother with sheep’s clothing. “Because I want to trust you.”

  “As I do you, Carrie, but you need to understand that I put my neck on the line for this deal. I cannot let you burn me. Don’t think about trying.”

  I give a bitter laugh. “I tell you that I need to be able to trust you, and you react by threatening me again? You’re such an asshole and you do it so well that you must have been perfecting this skill your entire life. Congratulations. You are the ultimate superior ass.” I try to walk around him but he catches my arm, and heat rocks through me, over my shoulder to do a slow spread across my chest. I can’t breathe with the impact, with the realization that this wicked hot connection between me and this man defies the hate and distrust between us.

  He pulls me in front of him, and he doesn’t let go of me, his long fingers wrapping around my arm, his gaze raking over my face. “If you burn me,” he says, his voice low, hard, “it burns you. I’m the best asset you have.”

  “And I’m the best you have, or I wouldn’t be here,” I counter. “You kept me for a reason. To make money.”

  His lips twitch ever-so-slightly. God, I hate how easily I remember those lips on my lips. “I kept you for many reasons, Carrie,” he says, his voice low, seductive, “but yes. Money was one of them. Did you call your father and your brother?”

  “No. I did not.”

  “Why?”

  “My father hasn’t returned my calls in twenty-four hours and I haven’t spoken to my brother in two years.”

  “Why two years?” he demands.

  “Not that it’s your business, but if you must know, even a sister can only take so much. I hit a wall.”

  His expression doesn’t change but there is a sharp punch of tension that radiates off of him. “If you lie to me, I’ll know.”

  I snap and grab his lapel. “Stop threatening me, and let me be clear, I’m working with you, Reid, and I’m doing so when you burned my family. I might not be cutthroat. I might not be devious, but I am smart. I am the woman who cuffed you and left you in a hotel room. In other words, I need to trust you, damn it. Be honest with me, Reid, even if it’s not what I want to hear. If you lie to me, I promise, I will fight back.”

  His hands come down on my arms. “What will you do to me, Carrie?”

  “It depends on what you to do me,” I say, and the air shifts, a whip of heat flaming around us and I’m suddenly not sure we’re talking about work anymore.

  “A sin for a sin,” he says softly. “I can live with that if you can.” His gaze lowers to my mouth, lingering, and I know he’s thinking about kissing me and Lord help me I want him to. I hate this man, and yet I want his mouth and his hands on my body.

  “What do you want from me, Carrie?” he asks softly.

  “I told you what I want. Honesty.”

  “Then you want to know what I’m thinking right this minute?”

  “Yes,” I dare. “I do.”

  “I’m thinking, that until I’m finally—”

  My phone buzzes and Sallie announces, “Your father is on the line. He says you aren’t answering your cellphone.”

  My body wants to scream at the timing and Reid’s jaw hardens a second before he sets me away from him. “Come to my office when you’re done and tell your father it’s really
fucking cozy.” He turns and walks out.

  I blink, shocked at his reaction that I need to understand. That I can only assume he believes my father will make me understand and this does not please him. “Carrie?” Sallie asks.

  “Put him through,” I say, rushing around my desk to grab the receiver, aware the call is likely being recorded. “Hello,” I say, preparing to manage this call with extreme caution.

  “Hey, honey. I—” The line crackles. “Horrible service.” There is more static. “Working the Montana land deal I told you about,” More static. He curses. “You okay?”

  “Yes. Yes, but—”

  “Good. Did you—” The line crackles. “Oh hell,” he murmurs. “I’ll try later, honey. I’ll call back soon. In case you can hear this, I’m in Montana. The land deal looks good. Our new future. Poor service. More soon.”

  Frustrated and uncertain about a new firm that starts with a land deal in Montana, I set down the receiver in the cradle, and decide I’ll get my answers from Reid. Just not now. Not when I have half an hour until I talk to the staff. I glance at my cellphone, which shows no call from my father. I don’t think he even tried to call before now. Frustrated, I snatch the folder I’ve prepared for Reid and round my desk, wasting no time exiting my office and making my way to his. I start to open the file again, but I can’t fight with him right before the meeting.

  I knock. He actually opens the door and before I know his intent, he drags me into the office, shuts us inside, and presses me against the door, his big body once again crowding mine. His hands are on either side of me.

  “Stop shoving me against doors and walls. I’m not your property.”

  “And yet you are.”

  “Don’t go there, Reid,” I warn.

  “I already did. And you are mine. I own you. I know it and you know it. The question becomes, do you accept it or did your father convince you to run?”

  “As I remember it, you’re the one who got owned. That’s what’s going on. I owned you and now you have to own me.”

  “You’re pushing me, Carrie. Are you sure you really want to go where that leads?”

  “I’m pushing back and you aren’t used to it because you live to intimidate.”

  “What did your father say to you?”

  “We were disconnected. He’s in Montana trying to get in on some land development project. And what do you think he’s going to say when I do talk to him? He’ll say Reid Maxwell’s an asshole who’s stealing his company. He’ll want me out, but I’m not getting out because I need the money, love the company, and apparently, I’m also a glutton for your punishment.” I shove the folder at him. “I did up a speech for you to approve.”

  “My approval?” he asks, but he doesn’t reach for the folder. “Now you want my approval?”

  “Yes, Reid.” I yank the folder back. “I did. I do. I want the company back. That means I win with you. I get that. I spent all day thinking about that. It’s why I almost called you today. To tell you that I really am with you. Either give me a real chance or let me go to start fresh. It’s your turn. Can or can’t with me?”

  “That’s a loaded question right now,” he says. “One we don’t have time for me to answer properly, but I will and soon.” His gaze lowers to my mouth and lifts. “You can count on it.” And in that moment, his stare is hot simmering coals and pure unbridled lust, a cage of heat erupting around me that I cannot escape. I’m suffocating in the connection I have with this man until finally, he grabs the folder. “Come sit down.” He walks toward the desk, and the air is instantly thinner, my lungs filling easily.

  Reid claims his seat behind his desk and motions to the visitor’s chair.

  “I can’t sit,” I say, crossing to stand behind the chair he’s indicated, my hands settling at the back. “And it’s not a power play thing. I’m not looking forward to this meeting. Can you please just read the speech and tell me if it works, at least in premise, as a launching pad to start the conversation with the staff? If not, I need to know ideas.”

  He studies me several beats, his expression unreadable, before he opens the folder, reads a full minute by my estimate, and looks up at me. “You listed every reason us working together works and it’s spot on.”

  “I told you. I thought a lot about this today. I’m in, so can you please not be such an ass to me until after this meeting? I know this is just a conquest to you, and I’m the woman who cuffed you and left you in a hotel room, but this is my life, and this is not easy for me.”

  He’s staring at me again with that unreadable look, seconds passing like hours in which we both know that since I entered this office, I allowed myself to be vulnerable with him. I admitted that I need and want to be here, because that’s what I want to hear from those who work with me. I feel it’s what he needed to hear.

  He stands and walks around the desk to join me, and when I turn to face him, I find him close again. He is always so damn close. Power and arrogance radiate from this man, pieces of a puzzle that he is, and I can’t begin to understand. “If you’re with me,” he says, “I’m with you, Carrie. That’s how this works. I have every reason to make that clear in this meeting. Let’s go get it behind us.”

  It’s not the pushback I expect, and I don’t even know how to respond. I simply nod and when I would turn away, he catches my waist, more heat radiating up my arm. He pulls me a little closer, so near that I could lean into his hard body. “There’s nothing wrong with being a conquest if it feels good, and you did feel good.” He releases me and motions me forward.

  Stunned, I grab his lapels again. “Did you just suggest that I was your conquest in that hotel room?”

  “Right up until the moment you cuffed me and left.”

  “Which made you my conquest.”

  “And yet,” he says, “not only do I still remember how you taste, you’re standing in front of me now. I’m not sure how that makes me the loser.” He grabs my shoulders and turns me, placing me in front of him, his hands on my shoulders, and his lips at my ear. “We are not enemies, Carrie West,” he says softly. “Go into this meeting knowing that in all things, we want the same things.”

  There is a seductive gentleness to his words that I do not know as this man. I want to turn and search his face, to know I’ve not imagined it, but I have this sense that he’s turned me away from him for that very reason, to ensure that I cannot see him and read him. I am now certain that there is so much more to this man than meets the eye. I am also certain that he’s right again. He does own me, and you do not want to be owned by a man like Reid Maxwell anywhere but in bed.

  Chapter Ten

  Reid

  Carrie walks toward the door, and holy hell, I’m obsessed with this woman’s ass in that pink dress. I’m obsessed with everything about her; the sweet way she smells, those emerald green eyes, and my absolute fucking need to be inside her. All acceptable and expected after our half fuck that needs to be finished, because the obsession will end once we finally do fuck. What isn’t acceptable is the way I’d actually wanted to pull her to me and promise her everything was going to work out. I don’t comfort people. I don’t do tender and gentle, nor do those things help Carrie. She has to swim with the sharks, and that means people like me, to claim this company and the job she otherwise deserves.

  I follow her to the door and I’m just behind her when she exits, stepping to her side in time for my brother—impeccably dressed in a blue pinstriped suit, to saunter in our direction. “We need to tighten security,” I say, and not quietly.

  Gabe laughs. “True. They let you in.” He stops in front of us and gives Carrie a warm stare. “You must be Carrie West. I remember you from the auction. You looked stunning then and now.”

  “Thank you,” she says.

  “I’m Gabe, Reid’s brother. I’m only here to show added support in the meeting, without any planned participation, but if you need anything, I’m at your service.” He winks. “Reid and I do the good cop, bad cop routine well.
I’m always the bad cop, as I’m sure you can tell.”

  She laughs, a soft sweet laugh that has my cock twitching and my anger at Gabe for being so damn charming, spiking. “Obviously,” she replies, casting me a teasing look. “I can’t imagine why anyone would see Reid as the bad cop.” She scrapes her teeth on her lips, amusement dancing in her eyes, and I know she’s thinking about those damn cuffs. And so am I.

  Sallie rushes toward us. “Everyone is accounted for. We’re ready when you are.”

  Carrie sucks in air, a nervous reaction that wipes away her smile and I answer for her. “We’re on our way,” I say, lifting a hand.

  Carrie turns to me. “You didn’t tell me what you’re going to say.”

  I glance at Gabe, who nods and walks away. I step closer to Carrie and lower my voice. “I’ll follow your lead.”

  “You’ll follow my lead? We both know that isn’t how this goes.” She grabs my arm and closes one of the two steps left between us, the unexpected contact, along with those fierce green eyes locked on mine, tightening every muscle in my body. “Do not embarrass me in there. I’m sorry about the cuffs, okay? But that was private. Punish me in private. This is—”

  “If I want to punish you,” I say, wrapping my fingers around her arm and maneuvering us so that my back is to the door, blocking Carrie from prying eyes, “it will be in private and that pretty little backside of yours will be mine.”

  Her beautiful green eyes flash with defiance. “You will never own my backside, whatever that even means.”

  “Words that would mean so much more if I hadn’t already licked your—”

  She points at me. “Don’t even say what you were going to say,” she hisses, and it’s all I can do to not tangle my fingers in her hair and drag her mouth to mine before I demand, “What are you thinking right now?”

  “That you’re making me crazy.”

  “Then maybe I should amend my prior statement. Maybe you do need to think about me between your legs, instead of creating a problem that doesn’t exist. Yes, you left me in that hotel room, Carrie, and by doing so, you denied us both what we wanted in the name of misplaced revenge, but right now isn’t about that. Right now, we’re walking into that meeting and it’s about making money together. I’m not going to hurt your ability to make that money. We are not enemies.”